The Mafia Vampire's Mistress

Chapter 11: A Delectable Discussion, Pt. 3

Layla

My friends had left hours ago.

I watched them stand and look over towards where I sat, their faces covered in confusion and conflicted- should they try to approach our table so I could leave with them? Should they leave me to fend for myself?

In the end, they simply stood awkwardly at the outskirts of the line until one of the bouncers ushered them to the door. It was only after they had left that I realized Jesamen was not with them, and that she had abandoned her place in line.

Lucy lingered the longest, her eyes darting between mine and Charles’ face, before landing on Sebastian’s hand tracing chilling lines of heat across my skin. The sight of his hand there made her smile and wink in my direction before casting one last look of longing towards Charles, then stepping out of the club and into the car waiting to take them home.

It was clear Charles was disappointed by Lucy’s departure, though he hid it well. Whatever moment they had shared together now seemed like a distant memory, but it was painfully obvious to me that he was eager to experience it again. It was obvious from the way his eyes always seemed to make their way back to find her sitting at my old table, it was clear in the way his body stiffened when she stood up to leave, though he didn’t say another word to her.

Sebastian, unsurprisingly, seemed indifferent to their departure. I am suddenly certain that even if my friends were still here, standing right in front of him with the car and driver in hand, he would have denied them simply to show that he could.

In the brief time I’ve spent with him, it's easy to see what kind of man he is.

He’s cold. Domineering. Controlling. A master of his universe, expecting those around him to be at his beck and call. I should not want to be one of those people. I should want to stay as far away from him as possible.

But I can’t. Worse, I don’t know that I want to.

He may be cold, but I can’t ignore the heat that has been humming under my skin ever since I saw him, and has only grown hotter the closer I get. He’s domineering, but I find myself wanting to be dominated, wanting to feel the full intensity of his stare on me, wanting to taste that intensity on my lips. He’s controlling, but I can’t seem to shake the images of him commanding me to my knees, of his strong hands demanding my submission and obedience to his every whim and pleasure…

He may be the master of his universe, but my dark fantasies have begun to run wild, whispered temptations in my mind promising that I could one day be his universe, his everything, could hold the entirety of his heart and soul in my hands.

I had been doing such a good job pretending to not notice him, ignoring the impulses of my body and heart that threatened to overwhelm me the moment I sat down next to him. I had managed to answer Sebastian’s questions without making a total fool of myself, had even mustered up the courage to ask Charles if they had any need for a singer in one of their clubs.

Until Sebastian interrupted his business meeting to set me up with an audition. And then, without word or warning, his hand touched my knee. His fingers began tracing strange and random patterns along my skin.

I was a goner.

My entire body was on fire, fed a steady supply of fuel from the graceful yet strong fingers that grazed my thigh. My mind was wiped completely clean of any thought or emotions. Charles continued to speak with me, but I could hardly force out a complete sentence without letting a heady moan slip through my lips. Eventually, he took pity on me and our conversation ceased.

Sebastian seemed to be completely unaware of the effect he was having on my body, carrying out his business as if it was any other night. The wild fantasies that were running rampant through my mind were somewhat tempered with this realization.

It is difficult to hold a man’s heart and soul in your hands when you become completely undone under his touch and he remains completely steady.

Unchanged.

Controlled.

By the time the night comes to an end, it is a miracle that I noticed my friend’s departure, let alone that my way home rests in the delicious hands that have spent the night taunting me.

The tone with which he commands his staff to finish closing and order my ride home is never cruel or loud, it is not angry or unhinged. Through every interaction, he is firm, his words spoken like a force of nature- there is no question of whether or not it will be done, it simply is.

I am ushered through a crowd of employees towards a back wall covered in drapery and decorations. I slow as we reach the wall, confused why our direction has not yet changed, when Charles grabs hold of a piece of cloth, pulling it aside to reveal a previously hidden hall.

I hear Otis and Sebastian whispering behind me, but my ears are still ringing from the music that has pounded into them mercilessly all night, making it impossible to hear what is said. Instead, I focus on trying to figure out where we are walking, swallowing back my growing apprehension when I quickly become lost in the maze that Charles leads me down effortlessly.

It has only just dawned on me as I walk these dark halls that I am a woman, drunk and severely outnumbered by three large men I have only just met tonight. My only comforts were that Sebastian’s last words to me strongly implied I would be going home, and that they had treated me with nothing but dismissive respect all night.

Whenever Charles touched me, it was gentle but firm, and only to help guide me in the darkness or stop me from making a wrong turn. Sebastian and Charles walked behind us, but their distance was respectful, their pace matching mine perfectly.

As a young woman who grew up in the foster system and frequented plenty of bars and clubs with her friends, I was used to men feeling entitled to my time, my personal space, my body. Nothing about this felt anything like those times, but its hard not to allow my fears to run away with me considering how completely under their control I am.

Just as I start to panic and question my own poor judgment and every decision that led to me walking these dark and twisted halls with three total strangers, Charles steps in front of me, opening a large door made of thick metal, the contraption gliding open on silent hinges and revealing an empty loading dock beyond.

The cool night air greets me like an old friend, banishing my panic and soothing my sweat-slick skin. I take a deep breath in, filling my lungs with the taste of freedom as I step through the door and onto the concrete ramp. A sleek car has pulled up, its windows tinted impossibly dark. Charles has followed me down the ramp, opening the door to the back seat and offering me his hand and a soft smile that actually reaches his eyes.

I return his smile and take his hand, sliding clumsily across the soft leather seat and taking in the interior of the car, noting the ample space, the chilled bottles of water and privacy glass separating me from the driver. A gentle squeeze on my hand pulls my attention back to Charles, whose face is suddenly a strange mix of contradictions- vulnerable yet guarded, embarrassed yet determined, but more than all of them, he is conflicted, his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip to stop him from spitting out the words rattling around in his mind.

The moment he sees me looking, his emotions are tucked away behind an emotional mask of indifference. It is not perfect and fails to reach his eyes.

“Your friends seemed to enjoy their night. I hope they’ll forgive us for stealing you away,” he says while still holding onto my hand.

“I’m certain they will. We’re all single, it tends to happen to at least one of us when we go out,” I reply, suspecting that his interest lies less with the quality time I spent with my friends and more with steering the conversation towards Lucy.

Casually mentioning her relationship status seems to do the trick, with his face breaking out into the most genuine and sincere smile I have seen yet. He closes my door with a smooth wink and I let myself relax into the seat, cracking open a bottle of chilled water to chase away the hangover I know will find me soon.

I have just opened a second bottle when the other door opens. Sebastian slides into the seat next to me without a look or a word, the previously ample space evaporating in the wake of his broad shoulders and intoxicating scent.