tagNovels and NovellasA Taste of Blood

A Taste of Blood


Violet Smythe stepped into the women's only lingerie shop, A Kitten's Dream. This was no big deal as Violet was, in fact, a woman. Nineteen and gorgeous, she was also one of the most recognizable women in the world, having been the face of Sexy and Sultry, her father's cosmetics company for three years. No, she was not the problem. The problem was the giant of a man that came in with her.

His name was Tyler Mangum. Bodyguard by trade, he was a babysitter in his own mind. He casually took his place right inside the door, watching the store as instructed by Thomas Smythe, Violet's father.

"Excuse me, sir," said a store employee, the word 'sir' falling off of her tongue like a ton of bricks. "You are not allowed in here. See the sign? 'No Men Allowed.' I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Tyler looked down at his verbal assailant from his six and a half foot height. She was maybe five foot two, but he honestly had a hard time telling the heights of people that were that much shorter than he was. "I'm afraid I can't do that," he replied in his soothing baritone. "I'm here to protect Ms. Smythe."

He continued to look her over. She was petite, probably not weighing more than a hundred pounds. One ten at the outside, he guessed. She was of Asian decent, Chinese by her features. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail with a pen behind her right ear, her red shirt bearing a nametag that read 'Grace.' She had on a black skirt and stockings with white running shoes that were more trendy than athletic. Despite her size, she projected an air of competence and authority.

"I know why you're here, big fella, but you are not allowed in here all the same. Now, will you leave or do I have to call security?" She had put her hands on her hips and was staring up at him. The pose made him think of a five-year old pouting at an adult. He resisted the urge to smile.

"I'm sorry, Miss," he said. "But I am only to be dismissed by the person I am protecting. In this case, that is Ms. Smythe."

Grace nodded and walked down the aisle, speaking to Violet in quiet tones. Violet looked at him and waved her hand, dismissing him. He nodded and stepped outside. Once out there, he grabbed his cellphone and called Violet's father. Tyler was to call and tell him every time this happened. He hated calling Smythe. Thomas Smythe was one of the wealthiest men in the world and acted like it, at least he did when it came to protecting his daughter. However, he paid well and Violet was his only child, so Tyler received a great deal of money to baby-sit her and keep her safe. It didn't matter that she was the world's oldest terrible two-year old. As he slid the phone back into his pocket, the front door of the store opened and Grace walked out. His half-pint adversary spotted him immediately.

"Hey," she said, leaning against the wall next to him. "Sorry about the fuss in there."

"No problem," he replied with a shrug. "We're both just trying to do our jobs."

She nodded and stood silently for a moment and then spoke. "I'm on my lunch break. You want to go get something to eat?"

He smiled down at her and shook his head. "I can't. I have to stay here and wait for Ms. Smythe. I appreciate the offer, though."

"Sure," she said with a smile of her own. "Do you want me to bring you anything? She is going to be in there for a while."

He thought it over and asked where she was going and asked her to bring him back a grilled chicken sandwich. When he reached for his wallet, she put up her hand.

"No. I'm not taking your money. I have to make up for being a hardass earlier."

Tyler laughed and said that was fine and Grace left, leaving him with his thoughts. She was back very quickly, explaining that the fast food place was only a couple of blocks away. She handed him his bag and he inhaled his chicken sandwich. Her eyes bugged as she had taken two bites of her salad and his sandwich was gone.

"I don't have time to eat slowly," he explained. "Except breakfast. I always have to be ready." He stood and looked in the window, seeing Violet take what looked like twenty items into one of the fitting rooms. He sighed and sat back down on the nearby bench next to Grace. She took a drink of her soda and smirked at him.

"I hope you don't eat everything that fast and move onto something else."

He turned and looked at her, a broad grin crossing his face. He didn't say anything, which made her laugh. She held out her hand. "Grace Chan."

"Tyler Mangum," he replied, taking her small hand in his large one. "My friends call me Ty."

"Nice to meet you, Ty. Here's my card," she said, pulling a business card out of her skirt pocket. She pulled the pen from behind her ear and scribbled a number on the back. "Some night when you're not playing superhero, give me a call." Tyler looked over the number, trying to see if it was fake. It looked legit. He tucked the card into his pants pocket. Grace looked at her watch.

"Sorry, big man, but my lunch is over. I have to get back to work." She stood up and started walking back toward the door.

Tyler stood up as well. "What? No goodbye kiss," he asked with a chuckle.

Grace stopped with her hand on the door and walked back to him, the picture of seduction. She grabbed his shirt and pulled the front of it out of his pants and pressed her lips to his belly, above the navel and just below the ribcage, her tongue brushing his skin. It was a kiss that held promises and whispers of things to come. Tyler could only stand there stunned as Grace smirked up at him and turned, walking away, a little extra swing in her hips.

Once she was gone, he snapped back to reality, tucking in his shirt, wincing when his fingers brushed his now hard and aching penis. He knew he was going to call Grace that night. He had just gotten himself back together when Violet walked out of the store with four large bags, which she handed to him.

"Come on, Ty. Daddy called and said he wants me to come home. He said that have the night off, by the way. Something about a dinner party."

He followed her, knowing what she meant. A dinner party was always held at the Smythe mansion where their own security staff could handle everything. This particular party was for a merger between Sexy and Sultry Inc. and Cosmetix, Inc. He had gone over the security plans with Mr. Smythe the day before, so he knew everything would be safe and got the night off. Tyler was glad he was only on retainer when Violet left the house.

Violet got to the car and sighed a princessly sigh as she waited for him to unlock the car. He hit the remote and she still stood there, waiting for Tyler to open the door for her. He rolled his eyes and loaded the bags into the truck and moved to the rear passenger door, taking her outstretched hand and helping her in. He muttered to himself and walked to the driver's side door of his Interlagos Blue Metallic BMW M5 Sedan. Granted, the car wasn't extremely prevalent in the States, but Smythe had those kinds of connections. After Tyler's suggested modifications to protect Smythe's 'one and only,' the car weighed in at almost five thousand pounds and had cost Smythe in the neighborhood of two hundred thousand dollars. That kind of money was chump change to the multi-billionaire but Tyler figured if he was going to take this spoiled little rich girl around, he was going to do it in style. He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, preparing himself for the forty-five minute drive back to Violet's house.

"Ty, put on some music," Violet whined from the back seat. "And not that depressing crap you always listen to. Turn on something fun."

He was tempted to start lecturing her on how the 'depressing crap' he listened to was some of the greatest classical music ever written, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. He pushed button six on the six disc CD changer and 'So Far, So Bad' by Violet's favorite band, Dog Day After Lunch, came blaring through the speakers. Tyler sighed. He didn't hate the music, though he had definitely heard better. It was Violet singing along in the backseat. She was a good kid, mostly, but her singing was horrible. Drunken karaoke night with William Hung was better than supermodel Violet Smythe.

They were about halfway home when Tyler's cellphone vibrated in his coat pocket. He pulled it out and was confused when the Caller ID read 'Violet.' He checked the rear view mirror and saw Violet still bopping to the music. He quickly adjusted the audio so that he would be able to hear the phone.


"Tyler. It is you."

"Grace," he said, surprise in his voice.

"Yes," she laughed. "Ms. Smythe left her phone here at the store when she was looking for 'daddy's credit card.'" Tyler tried, and failed, to hide his grin. He could hear the quotation marks in her voice. "Maybe you could come back after you drop her off and pick it up?"

Tyler looked in the mirror again, seeing Violet paying him not an ounce of attention. "And would that be all I was picking up?"

She laughed again. "We'll see when you get here, big boy."

The call ended and Tyler slipped the phone into its cradle on the dashboard. He hit pause on the CD player and silenced reigned in the car for half a second before Violet spoke up.

"Hey, you jerk! I was enjoying that!"

"You know," he sighed. "One of these days, I'm going to turn you over my knee and give you the spanking you deserve."

Violet grinned at him in the mirror. "You never know, Ty. I might enjoy that, too."

He shook his head and winced when she started her high-pitched giggle. "Anyway," he continued. "That was someone from A Kitten's Dream. You left your cellphone there."

Violet immediately started digging through her purse, almost crying when she couldn't find it. "Ty, I need that phone! My life is in there! We need to go back and get it!"

"I'm going back after I take you home. I'll keep it safe and give it back to you tomorrow." Before she could say anything else, he started the music again, for once thankful that he couldn't hear.


Chapter Two

Tyler cut the music as he pulled up to the gate of Smythe Manor and swiped his key card, waiting for the gates to swing open. Once they were out of the way, he pulled into the large circular drive, stopping in front of the house. Violet bounded out, rushing inside as Tyler got her bags out of the trunk and eventually followed her inside. He hated the Smythe place. It was too gaudy for him. He didn't like ostentatious displays of wealth and this place was loaded with them. Little did he know that this place would become his sanctuary and his home.

Tyler came from a lower middle class family and money had never been in great supply, but they managed. He had made a decent living playing second-tier football in Canada, but never lived up to his potential coming out of college. The money he had made was invested well and now he lived comfortably. He sighed and walked into the house. Isabella, the maid, was there waiting for him so that she could take the bags.

"Buenos dias, Señorita Isabella," he said, knowing full when that 'señorita' did not apply to the fifty-something matron. It was just a game they played, Tyler enjoying watching her blush.

"Buenos dias, Señor Tyler," she replied, the blush creeping into her light brown cheeks. "You keep up with that 'señorita' stuff," she laughed, "and I'm going to make you marry me." She winked at him and laughed, walking up the stairs to Violet's room.


Tyler turned and saw Thomas Smythe walking toward him like a ship under full sail: starting slowly but speeding up, definitely with a purpose. Smythe was in his early forties, with dark hair and bright blue-green eyes. He wasn't what you would call handsome so much as striking. He had been military at one point and still kept himself in military shape. Today, he was wearing a charcoal gray suit with a white shirt and black tie.

"Yes, Mr. Smythe?"

"What's this Violet says about you refusing to go back for her cellphone?" Thomas ran his hand through his hair, something he did when he was either thinking or concerned.

Tyler cleared his throat. "Yes, sir. The dinner party, in my mind, took precedence. Besides, we were almost here and turning around to go back might have put her in danger." He added this to play off of his employer's paranoia. "I have already made arrangements to retrieve the phone and I will bring it with me when I report tomorrow."

Smythe clapped him on the shoulder. "Good thinking, Tyler. I don't want my baby getting hurt. Just make sure you bring it with you tomorrow. You have tonight off. Enjoy yourself."

"Yes, sir. I will."

Smythe turned on his heel and headed to his office, showing he still had a bit of the military in him, even though he had left the service ages ago. Tyler turned and left, starting his car and heading back to the store, Beethoven playing all the way back. He pulled up outside the store and walked to the door. He looked through the window and saw Grace at the counter, Violet's phone sitting there next to her. He smiled and pulled out his cellphone, dialing Violet's number. He watched as Grace jumped and answered it.


"Is Violet there?"

Grace smiled and looked at him through the window. "No, sorry. Some big hunk got to take her home. He probably showed her what a real man looked like, not like these wussy wannabe studs that keep calling this phone." She hung up and walked to the door, opening it and motioning Tyler to come inside.

"Wait," he said. "I thought I wasn't allowed inside."

"Only during business hours," she explained. "Besides, I'm the manager, so I say you can come in."

He ducked his head out of habit and stepped in, taking Violet's cellphone and putting in the inside pocket of his brown leather jacket. He folded his hands and simply waited. Grace turned to look at him.

"Is there something else you need," she asked.

"When I asked if the cellphone was the only thing I was picking up, you said that we would see. So, I'm waiting to see." He smiled at her, expecting her to toss him out. At least figuratively.

"I don't know yet, Ty. You haven't exactly charmed my pants off yet," she answered, writing figures down on a pad of paper.

"Apparently, I have," he answered, grinning when she looked up at him. "You're not wearing any pants."

Grace looked down and started laughing, as she was still wearing her skirt. "Fine," she said. "Let me finish up and you can take me out to dinner. How's that?"

Tyler agreed and wandered around in the store as he waited for her, looking at various pieces of lingerie. He was trying to imagine Violet in any of the things he saw and couldn't. It may have been because he didn't find her attractive. Sure, she had a nice body, but once he had gotten to know her, that didn't matter. She was demanding and whiny, not to mention vain and petulant when she didn't get what she wanted. That was not appealing. Grace, on the other hand, he could easily see in a few of these items, but that was probably wishful thinking on his part. He was looking at a set of lingerie that included a bra and panty set, black with small pink flowers on them, as well as a garter belt and garters. Matching stockings were also available. Grace walked up and touched his arm.

"One of our best sellers," she said, in her best sales person voice. "Generally retails for about one hundred and fifty dollars but this week, it's on sale for one fifteen. You, my friend, are very lucky."

"Why's that?"

She moved closer to him and whispered, "Because that's what I'm wearing and you may get a chance to see it later." Tyler blinked a couple of times and turned to look at her, but she was had walked behind the counter again, picking up the last of her things. "Come on, big guy. Let's get out of here."

Tyler led her out to his car and opened the door for her, purely out of habit. Grace stood and looked at the car for a moment before climbing in.

"It's a perk, courtesy of my boss," he explained, vaguely self-conscious. He turned the key and the ten-valve engine purred to life.

"Mmmm," she moaned softly. "I do so love something large purring between my legs."

Tyler smirked. "When I get between your legs, you'll be the one purring." Grace laughed loudly and Tyler pulled out of the lot and drove to the restaurant. They got there and were seated quickly, Tyler not even glancing at the menu. After drinks were delivered and their orders taken, they settled in to get to know each other.

Grace was born in the States to Chinese immigrant parents. Her first name was really Lai but her family had started calling her Grace so that she would have an 'American name.' She didn't tell Tyler how old she was; only that she was older than she looked. She had gone to school and graduated with a degree in business and now was the owner, as well as the manager, of A Kitten's Dream.

Tyler told her about his growing up, his parents divorce when he was seven, living in a small house in the city and his short-lived career football career. He talked about the parts of his job that weren't confidential up to the current one, Violet Smythe. He was twenty-six and lived in a small apartment in the city, near where his house used to be.

Dinner arrived, steak for Grace, more grilled chicken for Tyler, this time in honey mustard sauce with vegetables. They talked and joked, Tyler laughing at her dry humor, Grace reacting favorably to his subtle advances. He paid for the check when it arrived and then went back to his car.

"So, tell me about your family, Tyler. I like knowing how people were brought up."

Tyler blinked at her and shrugged. "Okay. I was born in Ohio and like I said, my parents got divorced when I was seven. Once I was old enough to understand it all, I basically broke ties with my dad's side of the family. I never met my mum's side, except one aunt and her husband. My mum died about five years ago in a car crash. Drunk driver. I have an older sister, but we don't talk that much. I'm single and have no kids. I moved out here six years ago and started working for the Smythe's two years ago.

"So," Tyler said, trying not to get his hopes up. "Should I take you back to get your car?"

"No, I want you to take me home," Grace said, her voice lowering to a husky whisper. "And once we're there, you can take me again." She gave him directions back to her house, Tyler driving very quickly. He pulled into the driveway and Grace hopped out and headed for the front door.

"What's the matter, slow poke? Are you coming or what," she called, pushing open the front door. Tyler crossed the distance easily, Grace having already disappeared inside. All of the lights were out and Grace was nowhere to be seen. He took a couple of tentative steps inside and saw something lying on the floor. Grace's red shirt lay there, looking like a pool of blood in the moonlight. To his right on the stairs, he saw her skirt, an inky blackness in the dark. He hung his coat onto the coat rack and followed the continuing trail of clothing up the stairs.

He passed her left shoe and then her right, finding the last piece, her nametag, in front of the bedroom door. He pushed the door open and saw her, still in her black lingerie, kneeling on the bed, waiting for him.

"You sure took your time," she said, her voice soft. Tyler grinned and stepped into the room, pulling his shirt off over his head and tossing it on the floor. He looked her up and down, her body looking even better than he would have thought. Her smallish breasts were still in her bra, being pushed up high on her chest. Her flat stomach led down to her garter belt and panties. He could just make out the smallest bit of her dark pubic hair sticking out of the sides of her panties. The garters flowed to her firm thighs, the stocking turning her caramel colored skin black. She looked delicious.

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