The Art of Seduction

The Art of Seduction

 

The art of seduction had never really changed.

 

He smiled now, thinking about it. A little grin that only moved his bottom lip. In all this time he had never changed his technique of pursuing women. And why should he? He was good at it.

 

Standing out in the rain, the water cooled his skin but did nothing to cool his inner warmth. From his vantage point on the roof, he could see clearly into her apartment.

She was expecting him, but he could not resist the temptation to appreciate her from afar, as he had many nights before. After he went to her, things would change. Forever.

 

Her windows were open. She was wearing a little black dress. Shorter than anything he’d seen her wear before. He could see her legs and a bit of her thighs.

She turned towards the window, looking out into the downpour. He could see the cleavage between her breasts, and the slight movement there when she sighed. Just a little breath.

It made something in his chest thud.

 

Her brown eyes looked out into the darkness. For a moment he could swear that her eyes connected with his. He felt it like a touch.

 

No, he almost said the word aloud. She couldn’t possibly see him from this far.

 

She turned from the glass and walked away.

He crossed his arms.

They had been talking for a while, and he’d carefully laid out the ground rules. No attachments, no commitments, nothing heavy. She’d hesitated , but now she was coming around. Her invitation tonight was a clear sign of that.

It was true that most of his relationships with women ended badly. But he couldn’t let her know that his reasons for keeping some distance was more complicated than just that.

But, it worked out to everyone’s advantage, didn’t it?

 

 

He rang her doorbell.

It took a moment. Was she hesitating? Surely she must know it was him. She’d said 9:00. And it was that time now.

 

When she opened the door, she was holding a black cat in her arms. The animal batted his big yellow eyes and lifted his chin as if to say, hey, who are you?

 

He put his hand on the cat’s head, eliciting a deep purr. Part of his hand grazed her breast as he did so, and he didn’t mind leaving it there a moment longer than he had to.

 

She smiled. “Honey, come in. You’re soaked.”

“Yes, well,” he muttered. He was at a loss for words. She put her cat down, and the feline scurried away to one of the rooms in the back.

She put her hands on his shoulders, and for a moment his mind went blank. She was trying to take his coat and he was just standing there. Once she had it he snatched it from her hands and tossed it aside. This put her just where he wanted her. Close enough to wrap his arms around her waist.

He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling his scent. Feeling how warm and impossibly alive she was.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered, his lips touching her earlobe. Did her pulse skip?

Yes, it did! He felt that.

 

It made something inside him hurt. He knew that once he took her lifeblood into him all of this warmth and sweetness would be gone.

And her blood did call to him. It made him dizzy. It made him sick.

He realized how tight he was holding her. She pulled away, abruptly.

It felt like a slap in the face.

 

She went to her stereo and fumbled around, looking for a CD. It was something to do to busy her hands. It took a moment before he realized it, but she was trying to calm her breathing. She kept her eyes averted.

When she did turn back around, he noticed for the first time the little silver crucifix that she wore around her neck. It shined bright against her brown skin.

“Are you a Christian?” he asked.

“I was raised one.”

He smiled. “So was I. In one of my former lives.”

“And how many lives have you had?” she asked softly. “Being what you are, you must have seen a lot of things.”

He cocked his head to the side. She knew.

“Come again?” he said.

He walked towards her. She touched his face, and he turned her hand and kissed her palm.

“If you know what I am, surely you didn’t think that little cross would stop me, did you?” And with that he leaned down and kissed the crucifix where it lay on her collar bone.

“No, I didn’t.” she said. Her words came out in a little giggle. He stopped what he was doing and looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“I know very well what you are. You’re a vampire.” she said.

She took his hand now and pressed it against her chest. He felt her heart there, beating. It filled his ears. It felt like it pounded in his own chest.

“I want you,” she whispered, “to make me what you are.”

 

He looked into her eyes.

 

There would be consequences, he knew. This had never worked before. And the last woman that he’d made a vampire…. That had become such a complete disaster that he didn’t want to think about it.

But, he was also aware that it was too late to go back now. He knew it. Even if it didn’t happen tonight, this was going to happen. What would be the use in delaying for a few more hours or days what would work out to the same conclusion?

And he did not want to turn away. There was nothing waiting on the other side he door but more rain.

She held him. And he kissed her, taking his time about it. He kissed her cheeks and closed eyelids, and finally her mouth. He stroked her neck with his fingertips. His lips paused there. So close now he could almost taste her blood. He felt her shivering. They both knew that this was the moment.

“Are you sure?” he whispered. The side of his face was against hers. There were tears building in his eyes, but she could not see.

“Yes,” she said in one quick breath. And she held onto him a little closer.

He gave one more little kiss against her neck, and a touch of his tongue. And then he broke through her flesh with his fangs.

There was a little cry that escaped her lips, and she held her body still against him.

He drank her blood, her heat, took it in in a blinding flash, all her memories, happiness and pain flooding through him. He didn’t stop until he felt her crossing the divide to him.

When he could hear her voice in his head he knew she was there.

Oh, I have him now, she thought. He is mine.

It was as clear as if she’d spoken aloud.

He smiled despite himself.

Maybe he was not the only one who knew something about seduction.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Copyright, 2008  Lori Titus

 

 

 

 

 

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