How to Discipline Your Vampire (23 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Cerise

For a while, I couldn’t move.

My heart was angry at my mind, and so my body simply shut down, revolting against my poor decision.

I pushed him away. There was part of me that knew it was inevitable, since I was a confirmed self-saboteur. Then there was the part of me that tried to save me from myself.

But she failed.

I did tell William I was going to change—and trust me, I planned on it. Just, every time I got around to checking for full-time jobs, I just wussed out. I assumed they’d hire some alum who just got out of school, or some friend of a friend who was owed a favor.

I didn’t think I was worthy. Technically, I was right about that. I wasn’t worthy of what William wanted me to be.

I was chickenshit about changing my life, and he was right to leave.

My body nearly convulsed at the realization. He was gone. He had sped out my door so fast I couldn’t chase him. I was left breathless, stunned, and heartbroken.

What do I even do now? I can’t imagine sceneing with anyone else. Nobody will have the kind of attention to detail William possesses. And as for physicality, God, the idea of someone soft and warm touching me made my stomach curdle.

William had ruined me for other men.

It’s not that I thought he was bluffing about the importance of changing my life; I just thought I had time to get used to the idea. Sometimes I was a bit of a procrastinator.

Fuck, after seeing my detailed plans for the next ten years, I’d imagine he got it in his head that I was always that thorough. I headed over to the pile of planbooks and thumbed through my sexual future. Lifelong best friends who finally fell for each other—William would have been fantastic at that one. A fashion designer and a model—I couldn’t begin to imagine the kind of outfits he’d have Harvey whip up for that.

I put the books back down with a sad thump. Those scenes would remain in those books forever, and never get checked off. They would never get a recipe card.

And then, an idea dawned on me.

I could win William back. I just had to prove myself to him.

I threw on some workout clothes and headed to the gym.

As I hopped onto the elliptical, I opened my phone’s little electronic notepad and started jotting down ideas. I bobbed up and down on the machine and took inventory of my life.

Job: I needed a steady one. I downloaded an app that showed only teacher positions. Fantastic. When I got home, I’d send out as many applications as I could find.

Relationships: I needed to tie up some loose ends. One thing I remembered about my mother was that she loved recipe books but she never cooked. Maybe I’d hit the bookstore and mail her one with a note, and maybe bake some cookies and send those along, too.

Mental health: I needed to talk to a professional. My forays into psychiatrists’ offices usually ended with an angry doctor telling me my fetish was destructive. So as the elliptical cranked up to level three, I logged on to the Flog Blog and researched kink-friendly therapists. Found four names before I stepped off the machine.

I wiped my sweaty brow with a towel and opened up my calendar. I was going to give myself a month to get my shit together. For William, and for me. We were worth the work.

“What is your approach to discipline?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and examining my reaction. It was one month to the day of my decision, and from where I sat, things looked pretty good.

I folded my hands placidly in front of me and went on about my philosophy. “I’m a strong believer in the firm-but-fair approach. I will not tolerate disobedience of any kind, but in return, I reciprocate with enthusiastic approval. I prefer solving problems together on the spot. I also think that this approach requires mutual respect, so I give as much as I receive.”

He tapped his pen against the table. “Good. How do you feel about planning? Are you very structured, or do you improvise?”

Another answer I was confident about. “I think there is room for both, but I’m a planner. It actually, to me at least, makes improvisation easier. If you have detailed short-term plans, and a little looser long-term goals, it’s easy to see the direction you’re headed. This way also lends itself to troubleshooting any problems along the way.” I smiled brightly, and my smile was reciprocated.

“I like that.” He shuffled the papers in front of him, stacking them neatly to his side. “Miss Norrel, I think you are perfect for the position. All we really need is for the superintendent to approve it, but since he was such good friends with your father, I’m assuming we can move forward soon. Congratulations, Cerise. I’m proud to have you on my staff.”

I positively beamed. I tucked my hair behind my ear and tried to maintain composure as I asked him about my schedule. “What classes and levels would I be picking up?”

“Looks like two sections of junior honors trigonometry, one class of senior college prep calculus, and two groups of elective personal finance.”

“Perfect.”

He handed me some paperwork. “You don’t have to fill this out now, just get it to me by September. We’ll have a new staff orientation the week before classes begin, but I’m assuming you know most of the staff by now. You’re everyone’s favorite sub, Miss Norrel.”

My throat tightened at the words
favorite sub
,
but the feeling actually empowered me. I was doing this for William. “Thank you, sir.”

“Enjoy the rest of your summer,” the principal said, shaking my hand vigorously and politely seeing me out.

All the steps of project “Win Back the Vamp” were complete.

I rifled through some old Christmas cards and found my mom’s address. Then I mailed her some cookies and a recipe book, and she called as soon as she got it, gushing. I booked a flight to go see her next month, a week before school started.

The third therapist I called, Joan Macintosh, sounded perfect for me—she was a teacher for years, lived in a D/s relationship as a full-time sub with her husband, and she had availabilities once a week. I was finally ready for William.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Cerise

The box of supplies was packed and I carried it carefully out to my car. The gesture was so symbolic, and I truly hoped that William would understand the gravity of my sacrifices.

All for him. I would do anything to win back his approval and his love.

The drive to Strawbery Banke was short, but it took forever. The sun was going down, creating an ungodly glare that stalled traffic and caused at least two small fender benders. The air was overly warm, pushing people out of their comfort zone. It wasn’t the nicest night in Portsmouth, which cranked my anxiety further up the emotional Richter scale. I perfected the bow in back of my halter sundress and smoothed the skirt nervously. I hoped I looked good.

I had been to William’s town house only once before. One night shortly after we moved in together, he brought me there to introduce me to Breanna, Steven, and Harvey. They were playing Scrabble. I don’t know what I expected—some dark ritual that involved the married couple mutually feeding on their human host, perhaps? Instead, I saw three normal folks sitting around a coffee table, listening to jazz, and playing board games.

“You must be Cerise,” a tall brunette had said, approaching me with a warm smile. “I’m Breanna. This is my husband, Steven,” she said, gesturing to the stocky blond man seated on the right. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

“I’m thrilled to finally meet you all,” I had said after shaking everyone’s hands. Now that I knew what vampires were like, it wasn’t hard to discern Breanna and Steven’s supernatural nature. They both had eye colors that were slightly more interesting than a human’s—Breanna with her dark-green eyes and Steven with his steely gray ones. Their handshakes were also firm and cool.

And then there was Harvey. He didn’t shake my hand—he took me into a warm embrace, rubbing my back like an old friend. “Oh, honey,” he said, pulling back and looking at me, “you have done so much for our boy.” He shot a devilish look at William, and returned his gaze to me. He was around forty years old and dressed to the laces. I had a feeling he had coached William with his denim selection on more than one occasion.

“Harvey, you are destined for greatness,” I said, in awe of my new favorite designer. “Every single item of clothing William has given me has been absolutely stunning and unique. Do you have plans to open a store, or maybe start your own line?”

He nodded. “Once I’m a vamp and don’t have to sleep, I’ll be cranking it out, sweetheart. Don’t worry, you can have first dibs on anything you like.”

I chuckled. “Thanks.”

We were originally going to be there for an hour, just so I could officially meet the family, but we ended up staying until two
AM
. When Harvey had passed out on the couch, we decided to finally leave.

Now, pulling up to that place, I felt even more apprehensive than I had the first time I went. I wasn’t necessarily going to be welcomed. I was an ex. Hopefully, I would just be talking to William, but how would I be able to explain things to him if his niece was glaring at me for being a horrible girlfriend?

I pulled in and noticed one car—William’s SUV. The four surrounding parking spots were completely empty. I inhaled deeply; it was go time.

I had an elaborate display planned for William. To win back someone like him—a once-in-an-eternity kind of guy—it had to be a grand gesture.

I stacked the planbooks together and tied them with a bow.

Inside the bow, I tucked a book of matches. In my other hand was my recipe box, full of entries ready to be perused.

The last item, which I tied on to a ribbon, was the key to my toy box. It was locked at home and there were no duplicates.

I steeled myself and knocked confidently on his door.

He appeared within a fraction of a second. At seeing his face again, my body nearly went slack with relief. It had been a long month of deprivation. My ears perked, desperate for the sound of his voice, and my hands twitched with the need for his touch.

“Cerise,” he said simply. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” While his words were bland and straightforward, his expression looked relieved. Almost pleased, but not quite.

“I have—” I stumbled, “I have some things for you.”

“Come in,” he said, holding the door for me.

I walked back into his home, stunned at the sight. It was barren.

“Are you moving?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer. What if he was leaving New England?

“No. I just have no need for . . . anything right now.” And there it was. His voice betrayed his loneliness, but I heard something else there that worried me. Hurt. He was wounded by the experience.

“I have what you need.” I placed the items on his table and began to explain.

He looked at me quizzically, but did not push. He simply listened.

“Here are my planbooks, and that’s a book of matches. I want you to burn them.” I pointed toward his fireplace. “Would you like to do the honors?”

“Cerise,” he sighed, “you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” I stepped closer to him. “No, I
need
to.”

“Show me what else you have first,” he said warily. I could tell he needed more than just the act of burning my books to see that I had changed.

I picked up the recipe box and opened it wide, exposing the hundreds of entries inside. “All yours. You could read them, or burn them, too. They are yours to do with as you please.”

He took it graciously, nodded, and shut the lid. “This is a big deal, Cerise. Are you sure?”

“Positive.” I finally worked up the nerve to touch him. I took his free hand in mine and squeezed it tight. I felt an exhalation of relief in my body, thrilled to be touching him again. I could see his posture relax as well.

“There’s more, William.” I handed him the key. He knew what it was. He held it between his fingers gently, as though it were precious.

“Too much,” he whispered. “You don’t have to do all this.”

I took the ribbon and draped it around his neck. “I don’t have to, I need to. For you, and for me.”

He tucked the key into his shirt and held his hand over it. “Cerise.”

“And the final piece,” I said, gushing with pride as I reached into my purse, “is this.”

He opened the folded paper. “A contract?”

“I’ve been hired by the Newmarket school district. I’ll be teaching trig, calc, and personal finance in the fall.”

“A permanent position?” he asked with wonder.

I nodded, grinning widely. “Yes. I’m officially faculty.”

It was only then he swept me into his arms with a flourish. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered into my hair. His cool breath ruffled the strands I had tucked behind my ear and they fell into my face. He brushed my hair aside and kissed me on the cheek.

“So is my mom.”

“Your mom?”

I nodded with a grin. “I’m flying out to see her next month. My therapist thinks it’s a good idea, too.”

“Therapist?” William asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I’m working on myself,” I answered.

“You certainly are. Let’s light that fire,” he said, prepping the logs and tinder. “But I’ll put on the air conditioner for you,” he said, noting the hot weather. We sat down cross-legged on the rug and began to tear the pages out of my planbooks.

“Do you want to keep a few of these?” he asked. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy them, it’s just—”

“Burn, baby, burn,” I said, tossing my contents into the budding flame. “If we want to scene, we can improvise.”

He ran his finger across my palm. “Anything you desire.”

I caught his hand in mine. “So does this mean you’ll take me back?”

He made a half-gasping, half-choking sound. “I’m shocked you’re taking
me
back,” he said. “The fact that I broke your rules, and disrespected you like that. I mean, the fact alone that you even wanted to make up shows me your commitment. You truly have changed, and not just for me.”

I smiled, and felt pride for the first time in a while.

“You were right. I needed to change my life for myself. And it feels good,” I said, throwing more sheets into the fire. “I’m happy I have a permanent job. I am actually relieved to be getting rid of some obsessions.” My eyes fell on the recipe box and my stomach turned cold. “Are you going to read them? They’re yours.”

He looked at the box carefully and my body stiffened. I didn’t like the idea of him reading my sexual exploits, but I knew that I couldn’t keep these trophies if I truly wanted to be comfortable in my life. They would always be reminding me of my baggage, and right now I wanted to be free.

He shook his head. “They’re going in the fire.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

He dumped the box into the flames, and the cards scattered and quickly ignited. “Trust, Cerise. I never wanted to read them out of jealousy, I just wanted your trust. Now I have that.”

We clasped hands for a moment and looked into the fire. “Will you move back in with me?”

He nodded. “I don’t even have to pack.”

I curled up in his lap and just looked at him for a few minutes. Firelight flickered on his ageless face, and his eyes glowed with an intensity all their own. “I love you.”

He took my chin in his hand. “I love you.”

William rubbed my shoulders and back, easing the tension that had been present in my muscles since his absence.

“I love you so much,” I gushed.

He smiled unashamedly, positively grinning. “I’m so glad you said that,” he said, sweeping me closer to him, into his full embrace, and placing a ferocious kiss on my mouth. “The only thing is,” he said with a devilish expression, “can moving wait until tomorrow? I need you desperately, Cerise.”

I grunted my assent, language abandoning me in place of raw instinct.

He slinked his hands up my sundress and pulled my panties off in one grand swipe. We kissed deeply, tongues desperate to find home in each other’s mouths after being apart so long. It was magnetic. Closer and closer our bodies propelled themselves at each other.

Greedy.

I groped for his zipper, undoing his fly as fast as my human fingers would allow. He strained to get out of his pants, and as soon as he was free from their constraints, he wasted no time lifting me into the air and lowering me onto him.

I straddled his lap in front of the fire, luxuriating in the moment, feeling him pulse beneath me. He took control of our rhythm, grabbing my hips and pushing me up and down. Sliding, crashing. I ground against him, possessed. I had missed his body with the most primal of urges. We were made for each other and, until now, my flesh was in withdrawal.

But I had him now, and I took full advantage. I let myself go completely, screaming his name, pushing myself onto him harder and faster.

And he showed me what he wanted as well, instead of acquiescing to my needs like we usually did. He undid the halter of my dress and pulled it down rapturously, freeing my breasts from the fabric. William grabbed them both in his hands and groped me lustily. He pinched, he kneaded, he pulled back and caressed them. He removed his hands and stared as they bounced. He leaned in and licked, tongued, and sucked forcefully. He took what he wanted and I loved every minute of it.

“William,
fuck,
” I grunted, coming hard and fast and long. He gripped me tighter and orgasmed with me, letting out a low whine as he clenched his eyes and shook between my legs.

He lifted me off him and carried me to his couch, one of the only items in his almost barren living room.

“The décor here is almost as bare as our apocalypse house,” I joked.

“Well, it was the end of the world, for me.”

“Me, too.”

I lay my head against the pillow and closed my eyes happily, sighing.

He settled behind me, arms clutching me gently but with conviction. “Just tell me when you’re ready to go home,” he said softly. I could tell that despite coming down from our high, he was anxious to settle in.

He couldn’t wait to be a couple again.