Chapter 1:4 Sucking Dracula’s Face Like a Starved Sex Demon, Xoxo Nyx 

---

 

"Jonathan!" My shocked gasp may sound as dramatic and excitable as the man’s greeting to me.

However, I assure you, I am not in any way shape or form happy to see the young Hispanic twenty-something year old with perfect caramel skin.

So young in fact that he cannot even grow a proper mustache. Proven by the fact the one he’s currently sporting is penciled on to his face.

‘Jonathan’ seemed normal at first. All psychopaths do, according to my psych rotation. Anyway, I felt bad for the tiny man. Easily falling into a pity conversation with a thousand apologies for Nicky doing this when I’m not ready to date.

I’d been through enough rounds with the Witch that I instantly picked up on the fact that the name switch at the corner bistro was an intentional request.

Poor guy was so nervous, and by the way that he was sneezing at the green tea we both ordered, I’m fairly certain he was allergic to it.

The pity conversation turned into our love of the supernatural, and how Bram Stoker’s Dracula was one of my favorite Romances.

Not that I can claim it now, but my birth name was Ilona Lee. Between being Transylvania, and some fated soul mate being the only real chance someone like me had......

Well anyway, it’s ruined now.

After about an hour, our scintillating debate and recant of the book versus movie fantasy, gets entirely too real. Where Jonathan is actually Jonathan Harker, and has been hunting the fictional vampire Dracula to spare me. Miss Mina Murray, his long-time fiancé’.

There was also the balding teacher grading term papers at the table next to us. Who Jonathan believed to be Renfield, eating flies rather than M&Ms.

Of course, Jonathan and I just had to leave before ‘Renfield’ reported back to Dracula on where to find me.

With quick thinking, and that kick in the gut I don’t want to die today feeling, I told Jonathan I’d stay with Lucy in a secret Estate.

When I made it back to the apartment I’d just managed to get. Finally able to find an affordable place rather than stay at Alex’s. None other than the tiny man was at the complex, nailing large crucifixes to each entry in the five-story walk-up.

That was after he’d slung wreaths of garlic cloves all over the staircases and door frames.

Odd as Jonathan was being, it all seemed like it was from a good place. He was going to really extreme lengths to protect me, and it was clear the poor man had fallen into some fantastical place in his head.

Still, with my past I was not taking any chances, and relented to something I hate.

Favors.

The whole point of moving to the city, was to prove that I was capable of standing on my own two feet.

Either way, I called Ryan, the woman who’d offered me a room to rent after meeting her at an incident at the corner store. Thankfully, before Nicky had arranged my first meet-cute in the city.

Otherwise, I doubt I’d have had the courage.

Once Ryan and her room-mates had a hoot and a half in me explaining the situation, I called Dr. Harting. One of the few people I don’t have an issue with in Crest.

Not a proper city, but a very small town that only has a state-of-the-art medical facility due to the King’s mandate. With the Division Wars, it was essential that every city, town, and or province have a true hospital with a full medical staff.

Given that medicine and education are funded by taxes, it’s not like they have any excuses not to follow through with that.

It’s just sad that it didn’t happen, until after the bombings and lives lost from the lack of them.

Anyway, Doctor Harting agreed that bombarding ‘Jonathan’, would only confuse him. Possibly, even worsen the mental break he was having.

Something I’m very sympathetic with since my unexpected recovery.

So with the plan of him reaching out to a few colleagues in the area, I left it to the respected psychiatrist. Crossing my fingers praying that there was not a Doctor Abraham Van Helsing anywhere in our version of the yellow pages.

Rather than sleep, I spent the night formulating my own strategy as to how to get Nicky to stop, and here we are.

While I truly don’t believe Jonathan means to harm me, I can’t help but lurch back into the small metal box away from his thin hand reaching out for mine.

The scene has the formerly quiet blonde in one corner, all but howling in laughter.

In that moment of embarrassment, fear, dread, and what Alex refers to as my big feelings that are simply too large to express, I do the unthinkable……..

I jump into the black clad stranger’s arms of the opposing corner and kiss him with all the drama of a soap opera.

I’m so pent-up and freaked out. All the ‘big’ feelings I can’t really express in any other way come out in the shape of me sucking the non-laughing passenger’s face like a starved sex demon.

Feeling how hot his body is and how soft his lips are, I moan into his cinnamon spiced mouth when his tongue meets mine. Making it a question of who is assaulting whom.

From me pulling him down by the tie, to him crushing me against the elevator corner, I relent to perhaps the most ravenous kiss I’ve ever experienced.

Yes, I meant it to be for show, but with my neglected engine firing on all cylinders…. feeling his hard body meeting every demand..... If I could spread my legs in this get up, they’d be around him.

I’m not an exhibitionist.

Being watched is really the last thing that I find attractive. However, the thrill of easy access quickies in public places was one thing my ex proved is a total hot spot for me.

So much so that I almost forget about the show I’m putting on.

Painfully aware of the instant wet spot on my thankfully black skirt. I can’t deny how good it feels. Not to mention how long it’s been since I was handled like this.

With the black clad stranger between me and my stalker, I can imagine when I break away that it looks like he’s sucking my neck. At least from Jonathan’s point of view.

I’ve already come this far, why not?