The Vampire's Accountant 2.2

       Fuck.

Roman took a cleansing breath to recover from the intoxication of Marcy's surrender. The breath backfired however, when a wave of Marcy's arousal slammed into him. It had been a century since he'd felt so overwhelmed by a woman's pleasure. Her passion didn't have the practiced quality of most of the human acolytes that came to him in search of pleasure in exchange for blood. He went through the motions of being the vampire as the women expected, endured their batting eyelashes and shallow screams of passion, drank what he needed to sustain himself and left without any real pleasure himself. Marcy was different. He had hardly tasted her blood enough to be called a snack and yet even now he could feel her blood rush through his veins like molten metal - hot and consuming - demanding he take more.

Her eyes were unfocused and half-lidded, her lips swollen from his kisses. The marks of his fangs on her lips were disappearing already with the healing properties of his saliva as she leaned heavily against the wall. He was sure if he released her she would crumple. He squeezed her arms tightly until she opened her eyes and gazed at him blinking several times he saw the moment her passion clouded eyes cleared.

She cleared her throat and stood away from the wall swaying only slightly as she patted her suit jacket and hair making sure everything was in place.

"Gentleman," he turned toward their audience, "I can't hear you if you all talk at once."

"Roman," Conrad, his head of security, continued, "there has been a security breech at Chicago club. They are on level one lock down and --"

Conrad's nostrils expanded causing his eyes to turn feral and his fangs to start to grow. He had caught a wiff of fresh blood.

"Ms. Allen got a small papercut. Try to remain civilized, Conrad." He saw Marcy glance down at her nearly healed wound and a look of shock registered on her face. She must not have expected the vampire's bite to also close her wound. She recovered quickly and platered on a too-bright smile.

"Yes, I..I wasn't paying attention." She laughed nervously. "I'll get out of your way now." She didn't look Roman in the face as she skirted around him to exit the room.

"Ms. Allen, I found our topic this morning most interesting." She paused at the doorway but did not turn. "We will definitely pick this up again later." He thought he saw her shiver as she scurried out the door.

The urge to tell everyone in the room to fuck off and chase her down to finish what they started was nearly overwhelming. His cock was still uncomfortably hard, pushing against his zipper painfully. He grit his teeth as he took the seat behind his desk and motioned for Conrad to continue.

"Chicago club went on level one lockdown. Their communications are down and the building is sealed - light-tight.

The Vampire's Accountant 2.1

       Before her mind could process the movement Roman was in front of her, leaning in with feral eyes and fangs so long they barely fit in his mouth.

Oh fuck. What did I do.

His arms braced on the wall behind her holding her captive. His big body crowded her but did not actually touch her. She could feel her heartbeat thudding loudly making her ears ring with a deafening hum as she struggled to drag breath into her aching lungs. Fear, like acid, burned up her spine causing her to shiver uncontrollably.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply bending down toward her trembling body. She realized she was holding her bleeding thumb with her uninjured hand and he was leaning down to ... to smell her.
"Ahh, so sweet." He opened his eyes and the glowing intensity she saw there had her holding her breath. He was so close to her she could feel his hot breath on her face as he spoke. "Good enough to eat Ms. Allen." His words hit her like a wave of velvet as if the words themselves were a physical touch that passed through her skin and into her belly causing hot lust to course directly to her pussy which clenched with need. Her knees nearly buckled.

Gently, he took her injured hand in his. His hand made hers look small and breakable but his hold was gentle - reverent. He gazed at the blood streaming lazily from her cut, running down her wrist and dropping on the pale cream carpet beneath her. She braced herself for Roman to suck the wound or lick the blood or something. The warring feelings of wanting his mouth on her and wanting to run far away from him made her head feel foggy. Instead he used his other hand to gather the rivulet of her blood on the pad of his index finger.

"I'm so clumsy," her mouth decided to join her and dispel her nervousness with a veneer of calm. "I'll just go wash that up." She commanded her body to step to the side and around Roman but her traitorous legs would not obey.

"Do you know how intoxicating the scent of your blood is? I want to taste you Ms. Allen. I want your blood on my tongue." His words were whispered feverishly and sent spasms to her now-moist pussy that nearly pulled her over the edge into orgasm.

Instead of licking the blood off his index finger, he gently rubbed the pad of his finger and her blood on her bottom lip. Her breathing accelerated to a shallow pant and even she now could smell the coppery sweetness of her own blood coating her lip.

"Taste it," he demanded.

Without questioning the order her tongue darted out and sampled the blood there. He groaned in response.

"Open your mouth for me, let me taste your blood on your tongue." His hypnotic voice held her captive as his lips descended slowly enough to giver her time to protest or turn away but her body was rooted in place fearful and wanting of what would come next.

His touch was feather light. First his lips and then his tongue lightly licked along her bottom lip tasting the blood he had deposited there. The moment suspended in time as he seemed to savor the flavor before deepening the kiss. His mouth molded to hers and his tongue swept in to claim her mouth and devour any remnant of the blood on her tongue. He wasn't rough but thorough and fearing her knees would give way she clutched at his shirt with both hands and a small gasp of pleasure escaped her mouth. The small sound or the touch of her hands she wasn't sure but the kiss changed immediately. He gripped her chin, using his thumb to open her mouth wider and tip her head back further so his tongue could plunder the deepest recesses of her mouth. She felt his fangs scrape her tongue and fresh blood mingled in her mouth which only served to inflame him further. His lips were bruising and the grasp of his hand bit into her chin painfully. She yelped wordlessly into his mouth but he didn't even pause in his assault. And Marcy didn't want him too. She reveled in the roughness of his possession and her tongue joined his stroke for stroke, matching his intensity. This is what she had wanted - needed - the taste of him, the feel of him. This kiss alone was worth her self injury.

Abruptly he pulled back, ending the kiss. She was panting loudly now like she had run a marathon. His chest also rose and fell telling her he too had enjoyed the kiss. His gaze bored into hers as if plumbing the depths of them for answers to some unasked question.

"Ms. Allen, did you think you needed to cut your finger to gain my attention?"

Marcy felt panic race along her spine. How did he know?

"With your blood in me I can hear your thoughts," he said inside her head. "And I can talk to your without speech."

Holy shit! He was reading her mind. Marcy leaned back into the wall trying to move as far away from him as possible. He looked angry, or maybe hungry. She couldn't tell.

"Oh yes," he said out loud this time, "I am hungry but you need not have cut yourself for me to want to devour you, my sweet. Every time you enter my office I can smell your luscious scent." He bent close to her ear, continuing, "I can hear your heartbeat and the rush of blood through your veins. I hear your breath accelerate and I can smell your arousal."

Marcy blushed furiously and tried to look away. He would not allow it grabbing her chin and forcing her to look up at him.

"Yes, your sweet wetness when you think carnal thoughts about me. Restraining myself from throwing you on my desk, spreading those supple thighs and lapping up all that cream has been a Herculean effort for six months." He kept her eyes locked on his but pressed his lower body into her, his hard body causing sparks of friction. His erection pressed into her belly and she gasped at the size of him. The hardness of him.

"I've been dreaming for months about burying my cock inside you. Stretching you to fullness as you whimper and beg beneath me. Slamming into your hot pussy until you cry my name and only then tasting your blood." He grabbed her right wrist again and shifted his gaze to the cut on her thumb. "You drive me crazy with your body for months and then add to my misery with the scent of your fresh blood?"

His eyes captured hers again and his voice grew harsher, accusing. "A man can only resist so much and I'm no man."

With inhuman swiftness her thumb was in his mouth and he was pulling on her blood with his strong suck. He didn't use his fangs to bite her but drew blood hungrily from the wound. Marcy whimpered in combined pleasure/pain as she felt the pull in every cell in her body. It was like the blood he drew from her was attached to her skin and every pull yanked tight with tension on his indraw of blood and then snapped back like a rubberband when he paused to swallow. It happened again and again and Marcy began to feel the sensation of pulling and snapping back concentrate on her clit. With each pull it was like he was pinching her most sensitive spot to the point of pain and then when he released the pressure it bounced back and thrummed with electrical energy causing a surge of wetness in her pussy. Every draw became more intense than the last and Marcy threw back her head moaning incoherently.

He began to press his hips into her with each pull of blood he took. He ground his hard cock into her and the rhythm combined with the pulse in her clit took her over the edge. The orgasm that slammed into her was the most intense of her life. Her ears rang and her vision went black around the edges. Come for me , my sweet. She thought she heard his voice say in her head which launched her into a second orgasm that amplified the first until she was sure she would pass out from the intensity of her pleasure.

Her knees buckled as every bone in her body turned to liquid and she would have fallen to the ground save for his hips holding her up. Here breathing was ragged and her thumb was still in his mouth where he was now lapping at it gently. As her mind came back into focus she couldn't believe what had happened. She had no idea one could have an orgasm without being touched there or at least be naked. If just his sucking of her blood caused unimaginable, brain-numbing orgasm what would an actual bit do? What would actual sex do to her? What about both at the same time? She shivered in fear/anticipation/desire.

The door burst open and Marggie ran in frantic.  

The Vampire's Accountant 1.3

       Her confidence was failing her. She was removing some files from Roman's filing cabinet behind his desk. Roman was on the phone as he had been since she arrived 20 minutes ago.

His eyes had traveled from her shoes to her hair, lingering on her cleavage peeking out of the deep v of her suit jacket, and he seemed stunned momentarily. Then he'd motioned her in and indicated with a swish of his hand for her to go about her business as he swiveled his chair away from her and continued his telephone conversation. And that's how he'd remained. If she moved to the file cabinet he swiveled forward to his desk and when she moved back to the credenza at the front of the office he swiveled his back to her again.

[add crap about the conversation. foreshadow the problem.]

Damnit! How was she supposed to seduce him with a sway of her hips, a flip of her hair, and a strategically placed bend-over if he wasn't even looking her way? She needed to get his attention somehow. His scent in her nostrils was intoxicating - he smelled like leather and something spicy and magic that made her lick her lips with the need to get a taste. He was dressed as he usually was in black leather pants that she knew if he stood up would be hugging his perfect back side and making her mouth water. His back t-shirt stretched across his biceps and the rippled muscles of his chest and stomach. She had nearly memorized his hard lines in her mind. His black hair as always looked like he had just rolled out of bed and wanted to retreat there again soon. Right now she could see his hand resting on his leather-clad thigh clenching and stretching out as if to restrain himself from saying what he really thought to the speaker on the other end of the line. His hand was huge and tanned and she wanted so badly to feel that hand sliding over her body and between her legs. She stiffled a moan as she felt her sex clench in response to her thoughts. If she didn't find something to make him turn around soon she'd be on his lap begging him to fuck her like a desperate crack addict.

She was staring blindly into the open cabinet drawer when she saw that the metal on the corner of the drawer was mangled like it had been hit with a hammer. A small piece of the metal was jutting out into a sharp point. Well that was dangerous, someone could cut themselves and --

She stared at the sharp point as her mind raced. She couldn't do that it was so...obvious, desperate...dangerous. She glanced once more at his chair turned from her his fingers now thrumming on his knee in a hypnotic pattern.

Now or never, turning back to the drawer she took a deep breath and held it as she pushed the pad of her thumb into the sharp metal of the drawer. A quick prick of pain shot through her thumb as the metal breached her skin. Marcy closed her eyes, sent a quick prayer to the universe and quickly pulled her thumb across the length of the jagged metal.     

The Vampire's Accountant 1.2

       Sometimes he just wanted to fucking kill someone.

Not that he would. He was a vampire not a barbarian. But damned if he wasn't surrounded by complete idiots some times. Javier Villa, the manager of his Chicago club, Club name, was on the phone trying to explain why the club's computerized accounts were offline for the third day in a row.

"Enough Javier!" Roman slammed his hand on his desk for emphasis. "Fix it. Now. If you can't make it happen I'll send someone who will." He slammed down the phone before Javier could protest and rubbed his temples in frustration. Why had he hired the fire demon anyway? They were infamous for being hot headed and not taking orders. Roman ran a tight ship on all his properties. That's how he'd gotten so successful and how he planned to keep it. Javier had been recommended by a mutual friend for his high-end connections and impeccable taste. None of that mattered, however, when he couldn't follow through or give a straight answer to a question.

Hi picked up the phone and punched the button for his secretary, Marggie. "Marggie, please get Roland on the line." Roland was Roman's IT guy and all around genius.

"Yes, one moment sir." There was a pause while Marggie dialed Roland. "Mr. Roman, I have Roland on line 1 and Ms. Allen is here to see you."

Roman groaned inside. Marcy Allen was his accountant and a sexy ball of distraction. He could hardly think when she was around. Probably because all the blood left his head and filled his cock near to bursting. She had been working for him for six months now and had kept it very professional so even though he wanted nothing more than to tear off her conservative suit and bury himself deep inside her, with his cock and his fangs, he kept it professional too.

"Very good Marg, send her in." He punched line one on his phone and addressed Roland. "Rol, we have a problem. Javier at the Chicago property has been --"

Roman froze as Marcy walked into his office. The sway of her hips was captivating as always and she carried in a wave of her alluring scent - cinnamon and sweetness. He instantly went hard. He could hear her heart beat and the rhythm of her breathing - both elevated as they always were around him. She undoubtably wanted him just as he wanted her. But what made him nearly expire from shock was how she was dressed. She looked like an old Hollywood sex symbol, Mae West incarnate. Roman had loved that age. Women today were so scrawny. Not Marcy, she was voluptuous, filled out with curves and bountiful breasts peeking from the top of her suit jacket. Her normal neck-high blouse was missing today and he was beckoned by several inches of creamy white skin dotted with a sprinkling freckles disappearing between her breasts. Her belt accentuated the curve of her hips in a much tighter and much shorter skirt than he'd ever seen her in. Her legs were incased in stockings as usual but just seeing his first glimpse of her thighs made his palms itch to run his hands up them and wrap them around his waist, her ass in his hands, as he plunged into her.

Roman registered that Roland was still talking and that he was starring. He mentally shook himself and willed his blood - at least some of it for fuck's sake - to leave his groin and send a little to operate his body. He managed to motion her in and with only self-preservation in mind (his or hers he wasn't sure) he turned his chair away from her. It didn't rid him of her delicious smell or the knowledge that she was right behind him looking like a pink confection begging to be eaten. He felt a growl rise in his throat as the blood that deigned to leave his crotch decided to make his fangs stretch.

"I'm sorry, did you say something sir?" Roland was enough cold water to at least make the fangs retract. He wasn't sure anything would make his rock hard erection retract.

"No. I just need you to bottom line it for me Roland. Can you access the data files or not?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. I can't access his servers at all not even to get a log file. Something has happened physically at the server site this can't just be a malfunction."

Roman pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve his quickly approaching headache. This was the last thing he needed right now. Marcy suddenly appeared to his right at the file cabinet. Her back was to him. Her delectable, plump ass was just an arm's reach away. He grit his teeth and swiveled his chair out of temptation's path. "Well, what can we do from here?"

"I can access the past three months' log files and data dumps to see if anything was wrong leading up to the blackout but the thing is Roman, the Chicago server is behind a five foot thick steel door and no one has access to it but the two of us. This can't possibly be a hack job from the Chicago side because the system there consists of dummy terminals. Even the best black hat hacker couldn't access the server from one of those computers. And just in case it is designed to alert me when any unusual activity occurs. It is like --"

Marcy yelped behind him. It was a quiet and short sound and he wondered if --

Blood. Marcy's blood. The sweet tang hit his senses and his fangs instantly extended to a painful length. His vision narrowed and turned crimson as his body called out demanding he taste her.  

The Vampire's Accountant 1.1

You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.

Marcy whipped her clammy hands down the sides of her pale pink skirt and looked into the mirror for the millionth time that morning. Her brand-new, crisp business suit was fitted, much more so than her average black work suits, and had a white patent leather belt cinching in her waist and (hopefully) making her curvy and alluring. Her sandy blonde hair was in its usual tight french twist and her tortoise shell glasses perched on the bridge of her nose obscuring her blue eyes.

I should lose the glasses. She thought, abysmally. Glasses weren't sexy were they? She sighed with resignation and her shoulders fell. What did she know about sexy? Especially sexy-to-lure-a-powerful-vampire sexy. She grabbed her new white leather shoulder bag which included all her needed client files for the day and her laptop, took a steading breath, and set out the door to the waiting taxi.

Focus on the prize, she reminded herself. She brought to her mind the image of him. Marcus Roman. Client. Owner of the country's most successful line of Others-friendly night clubs - catering to all sorts of supernatural beings and the humans who accepted them in society. He was a millionaire several times over. Owned four houses, two porches, and a hotel.

She knew all of his assets of course because for the last six months she'd had the privilege of being his accountant. Winning Roman Enterprises had been a major coup for Marcy Allen CPA and his account was paying her mortgage but more importantly with him as a high profile client she was in demand with other members of the Others Business Association. The OBA was comprised of business owners that required bizarre work hours. She had several vampires she did the books for at night. Most of the weres and shape-shifters preferred night time hours as well. She even had a demon client who would only meet with her during the new moon.

The problem was most Others were highly suspicious of humans and who could blame them? With groups like For All Mankind implicated in bombings of Others establishments it was no wonder the Others were wary of humans. Marcy had always been in favor of the Equality for Others Act and thought peaceful coexistence was more than possible with all species. Landing a client like Marcus Roman opened doors for her business that she couldn't open on her own.

Which made what she was about to do even more stupid. If she jeopardized her professional relationship with Roman she could lose all of her business. She didn't really want to go back to working for boring accounting firms. She loved the thrill of being around the powerful and sexy world of Others. Especially her main client - the sexiest, most powerful vampire she'd ever met.
Marcus Roman seemed to radiate a magnetic field. She felt drawn to him when he entered the room. He was an imposing figure, nearly six nine and built like an old-world warrior. He always seemed to her to look out of place in the plush settings of the Roman Enterprises headquarters. He looked like he should be wearing a Viking helmet or a Spartan shield or at least be carrying a big broadsword like from Conan. He just exuded raw male power. But that wasn't what effected her the most. The knee-buckling sexuality that poured from him made a rush of dampness wet her panties just thinking about it. When he looked at her it was like he was inside her. Inside her body. Inside her soul. His smile had a knowing slant to it that said if you were a good girl he'd tell you a secret and if you were a bad girl he just might show you.

And oh how Marcy wanted him to show her the secret of passion in a vampire's arms.
Unfortunately, although he flirted a little he had been strictly business with her. She saw the other women, humans and vampires, that worked for him and the way they talked to him like they knew him - carnally. They nearly tripped over themselves to please him and looked perpetually on the verge of a swoon around him. Marcy tried to have a little more dignity than that. However, dignity wasn't getting her anywhere - at least not anywhere under, over, or wrapped around Marcus Roman. And that's where she planned to be. Today.

You can do this, she continued to repeat in a mumble as the taxi pulled up to the swanky Club Le Chez where the main offices of Roman Enterprises were housed. It was a little after 10 and the club didn't open until midnight. In a day job this would be considered a morning meeting.

"What'd ya say?" the cabbie addressed her through the rearview mirror.

"Oh nothing. Just talking to myself." She tried hard to will herself not to blush but she felt heat rise in her cheeks.

"You be careful in there ma'am. Them freaks are dangerous if you ask me. Better off before they got all hoity-toity wanting rights an all that." She didn't recall asking for his opinion on Beings Rights. This wasn't a conversation she wished to have right now. She had bigger issues on her mind than a cabbie biggot.

"How much?" She said curtly curtailing any further pontificating by the cabbie. He pointed to the meter and she paid and got out of the taxi as quickly as she could.

It was only once she was on the sidewalk that she hesitated. More like her legs wouldn't move, so, not hesitated but frozen in fear? God, you're such a baby! Get in there and make him notice you! Her inner wanton was serving as her backbone today, apparently. You can do this. You need to do this. Yes, need. Six months of dreaming - both night and day - about Roman had addled her brain. She couldn't think or relax and was in a nearly constant state of arousal. She was afraid she'd jump on him like a needy animal or become like the other women in the office with the worst case of googoo eyes if she didn't touch him soon.

Touch and taste and explore. She shivered as a jolt of hot desire ricocheted through her body settling in her womb with a warm tingle. She needed Marcus Roman and she needed him now.
Let's do this. She opened the door and swept in with a confidence she was only partially feeling.