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I shut the door quickly and set the locks, sighing when I’m safe behind the door. Logically, if someone wanted to break in, they could find a way, but it makes me feel like I am at least trying not to be attacked in my sleep.
I go into my bathroom, start the water, and strip. My bathroom is not fancy either, but the water works, and most of the time, it’s warm. I hurry through my shower and dry off. I can’t afford the smelly shampoos and lotion some women love. It’s basic soap for me.
I’ve been thinking of getting a new tattoo, but I don’t know where to put it. One arm is a full sleeve of flowers, bright and beautiful. My other arm is a sleeve of different books stacked in black and grey. I love the art on my hip that runs down the side of my leg. It’s ornamental, made up of angles, in black and deep blue. It looks like diamonds. I continued with that theme on my chest. It looks like beads and jewels are dripping in my cleavage, down to my belly button. I have others on my shoulder blades, my back, and the front of my legs. Some have meaning; others are just because of their beauty.
That is one of my biggest secrets. I decorate my body, and the only ones that know are the few men I’ve allowed to be in my bed. I’ve added so many more since the last time I slept with anyone.
Ava asked if there was a reason I dressed as I did. At the time, I didn’t think so, other than the fact that I just like comfort. Now, I think I hide what I believe is mine to give. My skin is my story. You have to have my trust to read it.
I slip into a new set of pretty lingerie in purple, my only splurge, and get into bed. My sheets are basic cotton, but the feeling of silk on my skin makes up for it.
I lay in silence, and a fantasy floats through my head of a strong man who appreciates my little scraps of silk and lace. My hand drifts under the blanket and glides down my chest. I imagine my hand is not my own as it travels the valleys of my body. When my hand is not enough, I reach for my toy.
Batteries. Batteries are my other splurge.
Chapter Two
Bash
I roll my eyes when my phone vibrates for the tenth time in my pocket. I know who it is, and I wished he would get the hint. Ryker, my friend and the vampire that made me, won’t leave me the fuck alone.
I grab the duct tape off the table, rip off a piece, and tape it on the mouth of the sick fuck I have hanging in the basement. I grab a rag and clean the blood off my hands before answering.
“What?” I bark.
“Why haven’t you answered?” Ryker asks.
“I didn’t want to,” I say simply.
“Jesus, what if it was an emergency?” he asks, frustrated.
“It’s not.” I walk further away. He’s yelling through the tape.
“What is that?” Ryker asks, suspicious.
“Nothing important,” I say. I forgot for a moment that as vampires, we can hear the slightest noise from long distances.
“Right. Are you coming out tonight?” he asks. The music blaring in the background means he’s at the club.
“I think I’ll pass.” I look back at the shirtless man, bleeding steadily.
“You don’t have to live in the dark.”
“I love the dark,” I say. It’s one of my favorite pastimes.
“Bash, don’t be an asshole. Come and join the party,” he growls.
“I love being an asshole.” Another favorite pastime.
“Fuck, fine. Are you going to tell me what you’ve been up to?” he asks.
“No.”
“Are you coming to the club tomorrow?”
“I will. Have fun with the party,” I say generously.
“Asshole,” he mutters and hangs up.
