La Luxure: Discover Your Blood Lust (34 page)

Still, the more he thought about it, the more
he wanted to call Nikki and tell her not to come. She was his only
Donor right now, and that was a lot for one person to bear. His
cravings weren't as strong as some Sang's, but they were strong
enough it meant she had to get stuck with a needle a few times a
week. It'd be easier if they were lovers. Blood and sex mixed
naturally.

He had her number pulled up and was about to
push
talk
when she stepped through the front door. "Hey,"
she said by way of greeting. Wearing a soft smile on her dark red
lips, she gave him a quick hug before sitting on one of the
barstools. She glanced around the empty bar.

"Where's Armand?"

"On his honeymoon."

"Still?" Nikki's surprise wasn't unwarranted.
Armand had been out for three weeks.

"Until the end of the month."

She laughed. "That's some honeymoon."

"Yeah, well, they deserve it."

She leveled her blue gaze on him. "So, you're
okay with Julia now?"

"I am. She's a good girl." Nikki gave him a
hard look. Slade shrugged. "So I had my doubts at first. But she's
cool."
Doubts
was an understatement. When Julia had first
stumbled into
Luxure
, practically one year ago to the date,
he'd hated everything about her. As a perpetual outsider that
thrived on the fringes of society, Slade was naturally wary of
seemingly
normal
people. And Julia had represented
everything he distrusted about those that walk a traditional path.
The judging, the fear, the misunderstanding...Initially, she'd
proven him right. But she redeemed herself, and now, Slade was
actually quite fond of her. In the end, it didn't matter two shits
how he felt. Julia made Armand happier than Slade had ever seen
him, and that was the important thing.

"Well, I have a hard time trusting someone
with zero tattoos. There's something completely unnatural about
it," Nikki said with a laugh. A tattoo artist, Nikki was covered in
ink. There wasn't a bare spot of skin on her back, chest, or either
arm. She was an incredible artist, and had done most of Slade's
ink.

She hopped off the barstool. "You ready to
get this party started? You look like shit." She headed towards the
blood room. "I'm not going to lie. I'm a little disappointed Armand
isn't here. He's a damn magician with a needle. Never even feel the
thing go in." She stopped at the locked door to the blood room and
waited for Slade.

Key in hand, he paused. "If this is ever too
much for you-"

She cut him off. "I'm just giving you
shit."

"I know. I'm just sayin'. If it gets to be
too much..." He didn't care for the pangs of guilt that were
building in his gut.

"I'll let you know," she assured. "But it
isn't an issue. This is the least I can do. I owe you everything.
If it wasn't for you and Armand, I'd be dead. I haven't forgotten
that."

Neither had Slade. Nikki's ex was a
douche-bag heroine addict that liked to knock her around. For
years, she endured numerous black eyes, broken ribs, and bruises no
amount of makeup could cover, before finally finding the courage to
end the relationship. When the restraining order only got her a
trip to the emergency room with a ruptured spleen, Slade and Armand
took matters into their own hands. They left the guy alive, barely.
He split town immediately after, and no one had seen him since,
which was best for his health.

"And Jenn's okay with this," Slade probed on.
One abusive penis had been enough man for Nikki's lifetime. She was
now a lesbian.

"I'm not going to say she gets it, but she's
cool. Are you going to unlock the door or not?"

He hesitated and Nikki sighed. "Jesus Christ!
Don't pussy out on me, Scott Corelli. Open the door, draw some
blood, and let's go! I love you baby, but I don't have all
night."

Hearing his real name was an affront to his
senses. She obviously meant business. He pushed opened the door.
"Fair enough."

Pulling a tourniquet off one the neatly
organized shelves, Nikki tied off her left arm, flexing her hand
until the vein at the crook of her elbow bulged. She leaned against
a stainless steel table. "Look, I know this isn't ideal for you,"
she said as she scrubbed the injection site with an alcohol swab.
"And I understand you feel like your imposing. But honestly, I'm
happy to help." Catching his gaze, she touched his arm. "As long as
you need me. As. Long."

He nodded. "Thank you." He didn't know what
else to add, so he moved to the sink and washed his hands. After
pulling on a pair of latex gloves, he grabbed a fresh needle and
three, and then after a second thought, four Vacutainers. He
usually only needed about an ounce of blood at a time, 30mL or
three Vacutainers. But this craving was stronger than normal. An
extra 10mL certainly wouldn't hurt, and might possibly delay the
next urge a little longer.

Setting the glass tubes on the table next to
Nikki, he gently steadied her left arm and prepared to pierce the
vein. The shaking hadn't subsiding, and he realized very quickly
that there was no way he'd be able to stick a needle anywhere, let
alone into Nikki's fragile vein.

"Wow," she said, her eyes on his trembling
hand. "You really did need me to come over."

"I don't get it. I didn't wait any longer
than normal." The situation was a little frightening. If his
cravings were getting stronger, he needed to find a second Donor
ASAP.

Nikki took the needle from him, slipping it
quickly and smoothly into the swollen vein on her arm. She smiled
sheepishly at Slade's surprised expression and shrugged her
tattooed shoulders. "From my heroine days," she explained.

There was no room for judging in Slade's
world. He grabbed one of the red glass tubes and clicked it in the
holder. Blood immediately began to spill into the tube. He withdrew
and replaced them in rapid succession until all four tubes were
filled, and then he gently removed the tourniquet and needle. He
handed Nikki a Betadine soaked cotton swab, which she pressed
against the needle hole.

She rose from the table. "I'm going to take
off," she said, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. "I'll see you
in a few?"

Slade's nod was small, weak.

"Cool." She gave him a brief, rigid hug.
"Don't stress, man. I meant what I said."

She slipped out of the room, and Slade heard
the front door open and then shut. He took her place leaning on the
table. As he peeled the red rubber cap from one of the filled
Vacutainers and swallowed the thick, red liquid in one smooth gulp,
he thought about how far from ideal the situation was. It wasn't
that he didn't appreciate Nikki and everything she did for him.
Shit, he was eternally grateful. But sucking blood out of test
tubes gathered in some uber sterile environment, well, it left
something to be desired to say the least.

Blood might be a necessity for him, but it
was meant to be shared and savored in an intimate exchange, not
traded in a
tit-for-tat you saved my ass now I save yours
exchange.

Slade sighed as the last 10mL shot hit his
tongue and slid smoothly down his throat. Ideally, this would be
shared with a lover. Maybe in his younger days he'd been happy to
graze off whatever tail presented itself, but now he was ready for
something more substantial, more meaningful. There was more to this
blood exchange than lust, fetish or even basic necessity. He'd seen
it with Armand and Julia. Now, he was ready to experience it.

About the Author

When not writing, CD Hussey enjoys a career
as a professional engineer in the Midwest. A chronic hobbyist, her
hobbies range from aerial silks to mountain biking and include
everything in between. With an ongoing love affair with New
Orleans, expect to see her in the Crescent City at least twice a
year.