Adduné - the Vampire's Game (50 page)

“
Cat got your tongue?” he whispered in her ear as he slithered to the other side of her.

Miranda shuddered from his breath upon her. He had invaded her space and was way too close. She pulled down the corners of her mouth and clasped her arms across her chest. She was giving clear signals that she wanted to be left alone. He ignored her body language and moved Tiffany’s purse off the seat placing it on the top of the bar. She supposed someone that had enough nerve to talk to the person they horridly insulted would ignore boundaries. He probably had never heard of the concept of “personal space.” Even if he had, she doubted he’d respect it.

“
That’s better,” he said as he seated himself in Tiffany’s empty chair. His knee banged into Miranda’s leg. She quickly swiveled her seat so that there would be no more physical contact.

“
Better for whom?” Miranda shot back. She grabbed Tiff’s purse off the bar and put it in her lap. She didn’t want anyone running off with it. She saw that Peter was unflappable and let her remarks slide off of him. He was enjoying himself way too much. She wondered if he got pleasure from causing turmoil and pain. Most likely he did. It was why he was unperturbed and carrying on as if nothing unpleasant had transpired between them. He was acting as if they were the best of friends.

“
My, you do hold grudges don’t you? I’ve heard that desirable women can get by with that kind of rude behavior.”

Rude? He was calling her rude? He was playing games with her. Sick, twisted head games that Miranda was not in the mood for. She was here to have fun and not to be incrementally infuriated by this idiot. Miranda likened this fool’s conversation with a kind of perverse water torture. Every word out of his caustic mouth was a drop of water hitting her in her forehead. She’d had enough.

“
Then why don’t you leave? I’m sure some woman out there is stupid enough to put up with your nonsense.”

“
You don’t understand. I want you,” he said leaning forward. Even in this dim light, she could see his eyes burning with desire.

“
What?”

“
You heard me. I said I want you. You fascinate me. You and your feisty replies and pugnacious attitude. You’re a fighter, Miranda. A goddess and a hellion rolled up into one very neat, attractive little package. I hate pushovers and weak-minded mules, and you’re neither. You stand up for what you believe in and that’s what I find so irresistible. You’re what I want and I’m hoping you give me a chance to redeem myself.”

“
Really?” was Miranda’s lukewarm reply. She sat unmoved by his passionate pleas. She didn’t have a clue as to what this man was about. If he expected her to rollover just because he’d given her a scratch on her belly, he was sadly mistaken.

Miranda crossed her legs and grabbed her knee with her hands. She pulled it towards her. She wondered why she was even letting him talk. While she told herself she was merely holding their spots at the bar and allowing him to waste his time, she knew there was more. There was something in her that was pulled to this sarcastic, bombastic personality. It was like a fly to honey. She felt that peculiar sexual energy within the pit of her stomach. It was telling her to let go and kiss him. Surrender and fall into his arms so he could ravish her in the women’s bathroom.

She turned and took a sip of her drink. She wouldn’t let thoughts like that get the best of her. She’d been reading too many of those lurid romance novels. They were turning her brain to mush, encouraging her delusional fantasies. She’d have to devote her spare time to reading a decidedly different kind of story – fiction that meted out punitive damage to women dumb enough to fall for an arrogant man’s line of bull. Or one where the feisty heroine wouldn’t have the wool pulled over her eyes just because of the lust running up her loins and buttocks – buttocks that were barely covered by a too short taffeta skirt. She heard him continue.

“
I know what you think of me, but I’m not the merciless bastard you think I am. Everyone is entitled to one bad moment. Unfortunately, you were with me when I had mine, but doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?”

Miranda had been so positive about her response to his BS – that’s all it was. He had admirably delivered an elaborate woven cheesecloth of half-truths to cover his atrocious, boorish behavior. Miranda followed the same philosophy of her father – and her mother – and that was to be kind to those less fortunate and be good to those who are good to you. There was no room in this basic tenet to treat a stranger with disdain and outright malice. However, this beast had revealed a wickedness within him that surpassed anyone or anything she’d encountered before. Yes, people had been mean, but there had been a reason. They hadn’t torn someone apart for the very depraved reason of seeing what it was like. Even animals have a reason to bare fangs and attack. It was either to protect territory, to eat, or to survive. This man was human – it made things even worse for he should be able to think through his actions and not act viscerally. Further, Miranda was not even a perceived threat to this man. There was nothing about her that conveyed she was. Nothing that he could have been misinterpreted … then she remembered her father and what he allegedly had done.

Maybe there had been a reason. A very good reason. People often took things out on members of families. It was how feuds and vendettas spanned centuries. She pulled up short. Was she making excuses for him? She wondered, but taken in this context, what he had said maybe wasn’t that bad. True, he had hit a bull’s eye, but she’d had others take potshots. Perhaps she was punishing him just because he had a better aim. Insulting someone was just that. By pure chance, he’d put his finger right on her sore spot.

His eyes never left hers. They didn’t even seem to blink. His face was intent and he seemed so sincere, but how could she trust him? All the signs and indications were that he was telling her the truth, but he had hurt her. She was still smarting from him pressing that button. Was it that action alone that had unnerved her? Or the fact that she valued his opinion? It was an interesting thought and one she should pursue, but right now she had to make up her mind about what she should say. Was she going to take the high road? Or tell him to hit the road and leave her alone?

Before she had the chance to do either, he put his long elegant fingers over her hands. He wrapped them underneath his palms and held her tightly. She responded to the feeling of her flesh against his. There was a delicious coolness to him. It was very much the way sheets felt in the summer. Everything in the room could be hot, but the first moment you slid into bed, there was an unruffled chill to them that soothed the heat and stifled it with an icy touch.

He turned her hands over and began scratching her open palms. It was as if he were following an intricate roadmap that turned ordinary hands into erogenous zones. She looked down at her wrist and saw her soft blue veins pulsing with erotic delight.

She was enjoying the fondling. She found herself loving the feel of his skin against hers. Before she knew it, she was back in one of her trashy novels – longing to explore his skin on a wider scale. Her mind caved in to what he offered – he was a source of sheer bliss. He was offering her sex – pure unadulterated, heartstopping, mind boggling sex.

Even the thought of it caused her breath to become more rapid and for perspiration to bead up on her hairline and brow. She was physically responding to him. Yes, she knew she should push him away – all the way out of her life and yet she sat there, letting him run his fingers over her hands – and up the inside of her arms. She considered that it was the bad boy in him that made him so damned attractive to her, but there was more. Miranda sensed something amoral and uninhibited in him. An untamed, fierce, fiery force. It beckoned to Miranda to discover it. To see if she could quench its thirst. She found herself desiring to lay down with the filthy beast. She craved physical gratification and what better place to find it than in the craven hands of someone that was out of control.

“
Hey, chickie!”

Tiffany had returned in the nick of time. She was back. She’d effectively broken Miranda’s fixation on the inordinately desirable Peter. The Peter that she feared would only end up breaking her heart.

“
Hello,” he said rising up to meet the out-of-breath Tiffany “My name is Peter and I believe this is yours,” he said indicating the newly vacated chair. He turned and caught Miranda’s eye. “I, at least, return things that don’t belong to me.”

Tiffany sat – Alex took his place behind her. Tiffany grabbed her drink and took a few deep mouthfuls. She looked from Peter to Miranda trying to discern what was going on between them. It was strange, but she couldn’t tell if they were friends or enemies. She shrugged her shoulders giving up trying to tell. She’d find out later. She held out her hand.

“
Hi, Peter. I’m Tiffany and this is Alex.”

Peter took Tiffany’s hand and kissed it. Tiffany beamed and winked at Miranda. Alex shifted his feet not appearing as thrilled with Peter’s courtliness. Peter smoothed things over by giving him a firm pat on the back.

“
If you’ll excuse me,” Peter said as he turned and walked away, assimilating into the abundant mass until he was indistinguishable from the partygoers and club kids.

“
Who the hell was that?” Tiffany whispered to Miranda.

“
No one. Just someone I unfortunately met.”

“
Yeah, well he can slip his shoes under my bed anytime he wants,” she said giggling and out of earshot of Alex.

“
Hello,” said the tall, Mediterranean looking man Miranda had spotted earlier – the one with the white shirt. He was making his move. He had dark brown eyes and a ready smile. “My name is Matt. Mind if I join you?”

He had manners, he was polite and moreover, he hadn’t insulted her. It was on.

“
Not at all provided you’re not as sullen and self-absorbed as the last person that occupied that chair,” she said pointing to where Tiffany was now seated. Now that Peter had left, her mind had returned to normal. She found it so easy to resist him. She made a mental note to keep it that way.

Matt chuckled a bit and rubbed his eyebrows.

“
Yes, so I saw. I was wondering when he would leave.”

“
I wished a lot sooner. Maybe when he grows up he’ll learn to take the hint,” she lashed out, extending her hand for Matt to take.

“
I’m Miranda. I can do this now that I snatched it back from the tall, needy stranger.” She looked and saw that Peter had returned to staring at her from across the room. She amped up her smile so he couldn’t miss it. It felt good to make him the brunt of a joke even if he weren’t around to hear it.

Matt laughed again. Miranda liked the sound. Matt was genuine – real. Not like certain stuck-up, self-consumed, pernicious egotists. She was glad that the insults flowed from her tongue like wine. Her confusion was over – her decision to pass on Peter was being instantly validated. He was like some heavy dark cloud moving on to be oppressive somewhere else. She was surprised at the influence he’d exerted over her. He had an almost hypnotic presence and lascivious appeal. When she was with him, she was reduced to being a gypsy moth about to self-immolate in his destructive flame.

“
I promise to leave you the use of your hands. May need to fend me off or something.”

Swarthy, handsome, and with a sense of humor to boot. Miranda was liking this new man that entered her life.

“
Doubt it would be you that needed thwarting. It’s very nice to meet you, Matt. This is my very best friend in the world, Tiffany, and her man of the hour, Alex.”

“
Are you English? There seems to be a trace of an accent.”

“
Yes, jolly right you are, Matt! Knock me up anytime.”

“
Fortunately, I know what that means or I might get my first slap across the jaw,” he remarked good-naturedly. He seemed to be enjoying the company and taking the ribbing in stride.

“
I doubt I’d find anything you do offensive.”

“
Oh, I love this song!” Tiff interrupted. She popped up from her seat and began gently rocking to the music.

“
Then let’s do it!” Miranda cried out. She put her drink down and hopped down from her chair. Matt put his hands around her waist and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She responded by kissing him squarely on the mouth. She always liked to get a full kiss out the way. No sense wasting time on someone that couldn’t kiss. Matt could. He was quickly scoring points on Miranda’s scorecard.

Tiffany put two fingers in the front of her mouth and whistled at the bartender. He looked up.

“
Hey, Dex! Could you be a doll and watch these for us.”

Tiffany handed him the two evenings bags. Dex immediately put them behind the bar.