Felicia stood at parade-rest, mistress of all she surveyed when Lady Aislynn was otherwise occupied. Tonight, Aislynn’s Dominant mate had to work on a stakeout, but her submissive mate, Detective Chayse Wolffe, patrolled the Underground with her, part bodyguard, part sevite, a servant held with highest regard. That meant his partner, Detective Jamison, would be off work tonight as well.
Despite her lack of humanity, being one of the Noctivenitori more commonly called vampires, the thought of him being in Eve’s Paradise made her heart thunder with anticipation. Don’t be ridiculous. She shouldn’t want him. He knew nothing about the Elder Races. Hellfire, he didn’t even know that his partner was a werewolf. But she still couldn’t get him off her mind.
Tonight, the strip club off the main Strip in Las Vegas, beat with the living heart of erotic intrigue and sex, and she was sure Aislynn reveled in it. Though now that she’s mated, she doesn’t need it. No, she’d found her one-and-only – more like two-and-only – and they supplied sustenance to her without dying. Unusual for a succubus to find even one perfect mate, let alone two.
She deserves it.
Felicia scanned the costumed crowd in Eve’s as she made her rounds, keeping overly drunk humans in line and making sure the strippers had all they needed, whether it was protection or water. But she also looked for Jamison. Edgar. They’d been dating, an old-fashioned term that still amused her, for six months ever since he and his partner had helped solve the murder in the Underground, the BDSM pleasure club they ran.
And we’ve been totally vanilla.
Despite being a sexual Dominant, she hadn’t felt the need to play with Jamison. Or rather, she didn’t want to rush it. She didn’t even know if he had an interest in the lifestyle, though he never came across as anything other than quietly alpha.
He reminded her of another quietly alpha male she’d known two hundred years earlier. Her step faltered as the memory filled the screen of her mind’s eye. Handsome, dashing, and the most perfect sub, he’d broken her heart on the night she’d planned to collar him, walking away to save apperances. The pain still cut her as deeply as it had two centuries earlier, and she’d vowed never to open herself like that again.
I’m going to go out with him like ordinary people. No D/s games. Just plain vanilla.
She waved away the ghost of the warlock who’d broken her heart and straightened her spine. She’d been stronger than him, less afraid of what people would think, and more willing to move into the future. She’d missed him for a time, but after a while the ghost of him had dissipated like the scent of his cologne.
Pausing beside the bar, she took one last look over the crowd and her breath froze in her throat.
The spitting image of the man she remembered stood at the threshold of the strip club, complete with leather pants, tuxedo coat, shirt, and cummerbund, and a blood-red bow tie. A tall silk top hat rested on his head and a short, hip-length cloak with high collar hugged his shoulders.
Sweet Goddess, could it be him?
She took a step forward and her motion caught his attention. Intense whiskey-colored eyes stole the rest of her breath and warmed her from the inside out. Not him. No, someone better. Detective Jamison, in the perfect costume, complete with tight, form-fitting leather pants. The ghost of her past disappeared as he sauntered over to her and took her hand, kissing her knuckles.
“Gracious evening to you, Mistress Felicia.”
Her breath caught once more, and her throat closed. Oh, how she wished he truly meant those words.
There you have it. Stop by the following other flash fiction authors below and happy reading.