a vampire.”
“Yes.”
“Why can’t we be together?”
“I told you before. You’re too good. Too pure. Too innocent. You don’t belong with one such as me.”
“That’s for me to decide.”
He shakes his head. “I… can’t. Not again.”
“You don’t want to fall in love.”
“It might already be too late for that, pet,” he says sadly.
He looms over me, big and dark and powerful. I didn’t realize how powerful, until now.
I have so many questions. Vampires exist? He’s a vampire? How did it happen? What is it like?
But most of all: is he serious? Is this the end of us?
I cling to the white ribbon. He tugs it from my fingers and hushes me before I protest. I relax when he doesn’t discard it, but carefully ties it around my wrist. “Something to remember me by.” He touches my lips. I open my mouth and tease the tip of his finger with my tongue. His breath catches, but he doesn’t take the bait.
“Come. I’ll hold you until morning.”
I don’t ask what happens after morning. He’s going to make sure we never see each other again. I slide between the expensive sheets and immediately curl into him to cuddle. Dimitri is the best cuddler. He’s also the best dom and best lover. I don't need to have a lot of experience or a ton of partners to know we were made for each other. We were meant to be.
“Go to sleep, little one.” He sounds so sad, I want to comfort him. I wriggle closer. His little kitten, cuddling for the last time.
“Forget me,” he murmurs, catching my gaze. “When you wake, you will remember this only as a beautiful dream. You left Club Toxic with a man, and he drove you home. The rest, you dreamed.”
I slip into a dream-like state.
“You will never go back to Club Toxic again.”
Chapter 6
Gwen
I wake to my phone buzzing. I’m at home, in my bed. My body is both supple and sore—like I danced all night in the arms of a stranger, working muscles I didn't know I had.
What happened last night? Something pricks the side of my neck. I reach up and touch the skin, but it’s unbroken. There’s no blood, no twin pinpricks, no tears. Why do I feel like something should be there?
I roll and grab the phone, and pause. There’s a white ribbon around my wrist.
The phone buzzes angrily, demanding I ignore it no longer. It’s Aurelia.
“Oh, thank God,” she says as soon as I answer. “I was freaking out.”
I remember texting her that I was hooking up with someone. But… did I change my mind? No; I remember his face. Or at least the way I felt with him.
God, why do I feel so sad? It’s like someone took an icepick to my heart.
I want to go back to the dream I was having. To my mysterious stranger.
“It’s okay. Thanks for following up.” I try to force a smile.
“Gwen? Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” My voice cracks a little. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine.” There’s a sound like she’s moving around her apartment. “What happened?”
“Um…”
“I’m on my way,” she says. I hear the clink of keys.
“No,” I say. “Don't come. I’m all good.”
“Keep talking,” she demands. “I’m not convinced. Why are you crying?”
“I’m crying because I’m happy,” I lie. I fiddle with the white ribbon on my wrist.
She makes a sound like an angry buzzer on Jeopardy. “Wrong, try again.”
“I’m crying because I had the best night of my life, two nights in a row. It was so wonderful, it seems like a dream.” The memories are blurred impressions. They keep sliding away, like I only imagined it all happened.
But the feelings, the sweetness and ecstasy, they were real.
“He was wonderful,” I say. “He was my first, and he was so good to me.”
There’s a long pause. “You were a virgin?” Aurelia sounds shocked.
And I break. I tell her everything. My engagement with Chad, how he’s actually gay. How our relationship was fake. “Deep down, I knew. But I never let myself leave. I thought it was true love. I thought we were meant to be.”
“Oh, Gwen,” she says. She doesn’t argue with me. She didn't believe in true love, but over a year ago, she met the love of her life and is living with him. The way she talks about her beau, Charlie, makes me ache. I want what she has.
“I know you think I’m ridiculous. It’s just always been my dream to find the one,” I say.
“It’s not that I don't believe