Roman (The Clutch 1) - Page 8

“Far more delicious, Selene. I can tell there’s something in her that I need to know. And while yes, it’ll help me get my casino, she’s a mystery. Not only to someone like me but her friends as well. I watched her interact with them this evening; they haven’t a clue who she truly is. And neither do I, but I want to find out.”

Selene looks at me thoughtfully for a moment before she replies. “Roman, I have been your friend for hundreds of years. I’ve never once heard you say something like this about a human.”

Surprising even myself with what I said, I nod. “I know.”

“Well, then you should invest some time in it. Explore what draws you in. But you need to be careful. You don’t need any trouble from the human government. That only causes trouble in ours. There’s no happily ever after for humans and vampires; that’s a fairy tale, so don’t forget it.”

As I consider what she’s said, I realize that while she may be right, I don’t care. Even just a few moments I’d spent in her bedroom, inhaling her scent, listening to her heartbeat, left me wanting more.

6

Fiona

The bags under my eyes have bags under theirs. No amount of lifting, pulling or tugging seems to negate any of the swellings. “Stupid vampire,” I mutter to the mirror. I apply a heavy dose of the cream I had the bellhop bring up, and fan my face, hoping it dries quickly and works like magic. This is going to be a sunglass day, and I’ll have to pretend I’m hungover, even though I barely had one glass of champagne.

I blame the stupid vampire. If it weren’t for him, my party would’ve been a hit. Oh, who am I kidding, the party was still a success, minus the few minutes the one known as Roman made his presence known.

Actually, he didn’t do anything to make himself stand out. He minded his own business, and truthfully, if I hadn’t met him the other day at the café, I probably wouldn’t have even noticed him. Nevertheless, he was in my home, holding a glass of bourbon, which I now know he didn’t drink, watching me as if I were his prey. The thought makes me shudder, except not in the way it should. I should be disgusted, repulsed and feeling violated. This… thing entered my home, uninvited, and followed me to the safe haven of my bedroom. Yet, all I can think about is what Lana so graciously divulged about her locker room happenings, and how being with a vampire was the best sex she’s ever had, and well… let me just say it’s been a while and I found myself turned on by his bravado.

I didn’t handle myself professionally at all. It’s not like he’ll call my father and file a complaint, but it’s still unsettling to me. My friends, without my consent, could do business with him, and he could tarnish my name. If he did, I’d deserve it. After all, I’m the hostess. It’s my job to bring the investors together, even if they have no right buying property.

My cross rests right at the peak of my breast. I pick it up, twisting it a few times before letting it fall on my bare skin. As far as I know, it’s never failed me before, but again, I could be completely naïve. I’ve been told I’m not the most observant, which is evident by the fact I let this Roman speak to me yesterday. Where was his mark the other day in the coffee shop? Had he hidden it from me or was I not looking?

“You weren’t looking,” I say to myself. I wasn’t because I was so taken by how handsome he is and how distinguished he presented himself. Most often, the men who hit on me are college-aged preppy boys looking for a good time. But then again, all vampires are gorgeous, and it’s clear I can’t make a decision between fact and fiction.

Fact, I didn’t sleep well last night because each time I closed my eyes, Roman was there, hovering over me, making me feel things I have never felt. He was soft, nothing like the rock hard façade we’re led to believe these creatures have.

Fiction, I imagined he called his penis Vlad the Impaler before he jabbed me with it. Yes, jabbed!

Fact, I had my first wet dream. I soaked my panties, dreaming about Roman.

Fiction, when he opened his mouth, his fangs fell out, stabbing me in the heart.

Fact, Roman smells divine, and if I inhale deeply, I can still smell his lingering scent. I don’t know if all vamps smell the same or if the warm sand fragrance is from his cologne.

Rifling through my jewelry box, I find the last gift my mother gave me, diamond cross earrings. I used to think they were gaudy, but right now I could use all the extra help I can muster. The cross is supposed to keep them away, prevent them from compelling us. It’s supposed to be a bright red beacon letting every one of them know we’re off limits.

Once again, my hand reaches for my cross, only this time it ghosts over my breast. I close my eyes, only to picture Roman’s hand doing the work, tweaking my nipples until they’re hard and ready. My eyes flash open, and I tear my hand away from my body. I shudder at the thought of a vampire bringing me this much pleasure.

Right now, I hate Lana. If it weren’t for her and her gym hook-up, I’d never have these fantasies. I blame her and her big mouth. What she does in private should stay there. She doesn’t need to be a tabloid and share every detail with her friends.

Except, it’s what we do. Well, Leslie doesn’t.

And I hate the fact that I need another pair of clean underwear. Stupid vampire.

As luck would have it, Lana and Leslie want to meet at the spa. I agreed, only because I couldn’t think of a lie strong enough to keep them away from my penthouse. If I were to say I was sick, they’d both show up with soup. If I told them I was

meeting someone else, they’d hound me until I came clean or searched all over Las Vegas until they found me. My friends may be a little unhinged. It was only after I agreed to meet them, under the strict stipulation they weren’t to fight about anything, did they say we had a full day of spa services ahead of us. Truthfully, I need this, but answering questions as to why luggage tagged eyes read international, isn’t going to be fun.

Yet, here I am waiting in the lobby wearing my biggest pair of sunglasses with the lifeguard staring at me. I peg him to be about seventeen or eighteen, and he’s finding some reason to continue to come to the front desk. Each time, he stands there, as if he’s waiting for a client to come in.

Luckily for me, he can’t see the eye roll I give him each time he spreads his arms out along the counter. I mean, the kid is openly gawking, and I feel like I’m about to vomit. I look down at my watch to see the time. Lana and Leslie are both late, which is unlike them. After the other day, I can’t imagine they would arrive together, but for all I know they kissed and made up, which would be ideal. I don’t want my two best friends not getting along. It doesn’t bode well for me.

Finally, they walk in. Leslie is yammering away on her phone, while Lana looks happy as can be. She kisses me on both cheeks because rich people have to act European.

“How was your party?”

“Good, great turn out as usual. I’m sure Daddy will be very happy. Oh, Shan was there. He brought a stripper.”

Tags: Heidi McLaughlin The Clutch Fantasy
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