staring at him. Okay, he’d said that a little loud.
“I’ve got a room at the Dauphine,” he tried again, softer. “We could go there—”
“My place is closer,” she interrupted him, taking his hand. Firm grip, too. “Come with me.”
She led him down the street, weaving past people and throwing those fuck-me smiles over her shoulder at him every so often. Eric was excited. He’d been here three days and hadn’t gotten laid yet. It was about time he got some strange on this trip.
The girl took him down an alley, walking just as quickly as before, even though he had a hard time seeing where they were going. He tripped on something—a bottle, probably—but she just tugged on his arm at the same moment, keeping him upright.
“Hey.” He grinned. “Nice reflexes.”
She muttered something he didn’t understand, and not just because he was drunk.
“Is that French?” Eric asked.
Her dark hair swung as she glanced back at him. “
Oui.
Yes.”
“Cool.”
She led him up a fire escape at the end of the alley, opened an unlocked door at the landing, and propelled him inside. The lights were off, wherever they were, but this must be her place. She locked it behind him and then her smile grew wider.
“I am going to eat you,” she said in a sexy, accented purr that made him even harder.
Eric grabbed her, squeezing that beautiful ass while he kissed her. She opened her mouth, letting his tongue explore inside while he ground himself against her.
Rubber’s in my back pocket,
Eric reminded himself.
A chick this easy might have something.
She put her arms around his neck, holding on to him like she was desperate for it. Eric fumbled with the front of his pants.
Right here, right now
worked for him, too.
He’d gotten his pants unzipped and his hands up her short skirt, when she clamped down on his tongue with her teeth. And yanked her head back.
Eric screamed, staring in horror at the blood around her mouth when she smiled at him again. His tongue throbbed like it was on fire.
“Crazy bitch,” he tried to say, but it came out sounding like “’aaazy ’itch.” Blood was still pouring from his tongue, and when he felt the tip of it…there wasn’t one anymore.
“You fucking whore!” Eric spat, not caring if she understood the garbled words or not. His fist came up—and then he was falling end over end, until he reached the bottom with a thud that made his head feel like it had split.
For a stunned second, Eric lay there.
Stairs,
it occurred to him.
Bitch pushed me down a flight of stairs.
He felt the first stirrings of fear mixing with his anger.
A light flicked on in the room and Eric jerked, blinking for a minute at the brightness before the images focused.
There was a tall, thin man standing over a mannequin. He looked like he was assembling it, since its leg was on the ground next to the man and its arm was in two pieces farther away. Then the mannequin’s head turned. Its eyes blinked, mouth opened…
Eric screamed, trying to scramble to his feet, but a scalding pain in his leg prevented him. The tall man ignored Eric’s screams and frantic attempts to back away as he gave an inquiring glance up the stairs.
“
Mon amour
, I was getting worried.”
The girl appeared at the top of the stairs. “Why? No one knows we’re here.”
Eric managed to stand. Agony shot up his leg even though he had most of his weight on the other one.
“Don’t either of you fuckin’ touch me,” he gasped, looking around for something, anything, to use to fight them off.
The girl smiled as she came down the stairs. With his blood still around her mouth, it looked more like a hideous leer.
“Touch you?
Mon cher
, I already told you—I am going to eat you.”
1
B ones didn’t spare a glance around as he strode rapidly up the streets of the French Quarter. Scents assailed him; countless perfumes, body odor from all manners of hygiene, food cooking—or rotting in the trash. Centuries of decadence
“I’ve got a room at the Dauphine,” he tried again, softer. “We could go there—”
“My place is closer,” she interrupted him, taking his hand. Firm grip, too. “Come with me.”
She led him down the street, weaving past people and throwing those fuck-me smiles over her shoulder at him every so often. Eric was excited. He’d been here three days and hadn’t gotten laid yet. It was about time he got some strange on this trip.
The girl took him down an alley, walking just as quickly as before, even though he had a hard time seeing where they were going. He tripped on something—a bottle, probably—but she just tugged on his arm at the same moment, keeping him upright.
“Hey.” He grinned. “Nice reflexes.”
She muttered something he didn’t understand, and not just because he was drunk.
“Is that French?” Eric asked.
Her dark hair swung as she glanced back at him. “
Oui.
Yes.”
“Cool.”
She led him up a fire escape at the end of the alley, opened an unlocked door at the landing, and propelled him inside. The lights were off, wherever they were, but this must be her place. She locked it behind him and then her smile grew wider.
“I am going to eat you,” she said in a sexy, accented purr that made him even harder.
Eric grabbed her, squeezing that beautiful ass while he kissed her. She opened her mouth, letting his tongue explore inside while he ground himself against her.
Rubber’s in my back pocket,
Eric reminded himself.
A chick this easy might have something.
She put her arms around his neck, holding on to him like she was desperate for it. Eric fumbled with the front of his pants.
Right here, right now
worked for him, too.
He’d gotten his pants unzipped and his hands up her short skirt, when she clamped down on his tongue with her teeth. And yanked her head back.
Eric screamed, staring in horror at the blood around her mouth when she smiled at him again. His tongue throbbed like it was on fire.
“Crazy bitch,” he tried to say, but it came out sounding like “’aaazy ’itch.” Blood was still pouring from his tongue, and when he felt the tip of it…there wasn’t one anymore.
“You fucking whore!” Eric spat, not caring if she understood the garbled words or not. His fist came up—and then he was falling end over end, until he reached the bottom with a thud that made his head feel like it had split.
For a stunned second, Eric lay there.
Stairs,
it occurred to him.
Bitch pushed me down a flight of stairs.
He felt the first stirrings of fear mixing with his anger.
A light flicked on in the room and Eric jerked, blinking for a minute at the brightness before the images focused.
There was a tall, thin man standing over a mannequin. He looked like he was assembling it, since its leg was on the ground next to the man and its arm was in two pieces farther away. Then the mannequin’s head turned. Its eyes blinked, mouth opened…
Eric screamed, trying to scramble to his feet, but a scalding pain in his leg prevented him. The tall man ignored Eric’s screams and frantic attempts to back away as he gave an inquiring glance up the stairs.
“
Mon amour
, I was getting worried.”
The girl appeared at the top of the stairs. “Why? No one knows we’re here.”
Eric managed to stand. Agony shot up his leg even though he had most of his weight on the other one.
“Don’t either of you fuckin’ touch me,” he gasped, looking around for something, anything, to use to fight them off.
The girl smiled as she came down the stairs. With his blood still around her mouth, it looked more like a hideous leer.
“Touch you?
Mon cher
, I already told you—I am going to eat you.”
1
B ones didn’t spare a glance around as he strode rapidly up the streets of the French Quarter. Scents assailed him; countless perfumes, body odor from all manners of hygiene, food cooking—or rotting in the trash. Centuries of decadence
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