On a scale of one to fucked, how bad is this idea? I smile at myself, knowing this is a rhetorical question. Vampire city is not exactly tourist material, but I can’t help but leave Donatello’s place to explore. With Apollo at my side, I’m fearless.
We exit the building through the front door, a concierge raising his brows at us. We sneak outside like teenagers running from our curfews, and I chuckle as we descend the stairs onto the sidewalk. Apollo captures my hand in his and takes the lead, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
“What are you feeling like, mate?”
I smile at him, our fingers intertwining. This almost feels like a date, minus the gun he still has holstered. “A club. I wonder what vampires drink. What do they listen to?”
He stretches the side of his lip into a half-smile. “Are you making a documentary?”
I nudge him with my shoulder or try to because the man is a rock. “No. Just curious. I’d never had much contact with supes. This is all very new.”
Apollo tightens his hold. “Let’s get you some clothes first.”
“Before we go to the club?”
“Before we go to the club,” he agrees with a nod. “This dress looks amazing on you, I won’t lie. But it smells of powerful magic. It might have rubbed off against the Chosen One.”
“He rubbed against me,” I mutter, and that dark organ that is my heart is content he is dead.
Apollo’s hold tightens again, but he releases it before my fingers turn purple. “I want to keep you as anonymous as it can get. Let me get you new clothes. With me next to you and the vampire’s jacket, your scent will go unnoticed. Or the closest we can get to it.”
I nod and follow his lead to a boutique store. Apollo tells me to choose whatever and sits back in one of the lounging chairs. The price tag surprises me. The materials are well done, and the tags reflect that. I chew on my lower lip. No one ever paid for my stuff, and it makes me feel vulnerable to let it happen now.
It’s not like I have a choice. Without ID or money, I’m at their mercy.
The first thing that has to go are the shoes. They’ve been killing me. I choose a nice pair of leather boots that won’t let me trip like an idiot the next time I run. I can’t go in a dress either. If something happens and I need to escape, the dress won’t help. I pick up some pants, both leggings and jeans, and several shirts to try on. As I’m making my way to the dressing room, the lingerie section catches my eye.
I should change them too, right? I’ve been wearing this underwear for almost two days. Ew. I pick up a cute pair of red lace panties and bra and put them onto my pile. A smile makes my lips tremble. The idea blooming in my head is not what I’m used to, but nothing is the way I’m used to, so I give it a shot.
A girl in a dark pencil skirt comes up to me when I approach the dressing room. “Hi,” she starts with a smile that turns painfully doubtful as she must recognize I’m human. “My name is Elanor. I’m here to help if you need anything.”
I smile back, pointing at the panties. “Can I try them on?”
Elanor nods. “Everything is spelled clean after a customer tries it. We have a resident witch.” She finishes with a proud grin. I’m betting she’s the witch. Donatello also mentioned a mage. It’s funny to imagine mages and witches living in a vampire city. Why are they immune?
“Amazing, thank you!” And I lock myself in with a pile of clothes.
Half-opening the dressing room door moments later, I clear my throat. “Apollo? Can you help me out with something?”
Elanor shoots me a questioning look, but I wave her away with a smile. She walks off, and I tell myself I’ll ask Apollo to tip her later. His heavy steps creak the floorboards closer. I turn around, holding the clasps of the bra between my fingers, and wait for his reaction. He opens the door, then nothing. Just silence.
I peek over my shoulder. “Clasp it for me, please?” I say with my best coy voice.
His face is... the perfect portrait of control. He takes the clasps in his fingers and closes the bra. That well-known rumble starts deep in his chest. I turn around to find him shaking his head in disbelief.
“Don’t you like it?” I bite my lip, hoping I look sexy, standing in front of a semi-stranger in red lingerie.
He releases a shuddering breath, and his eyes are molten gold when they meet mine. “You want me to fuck you against this wall, mate? Where everyone could hear us?” His voice is pure gravel, rasping against my ears. “Because I’m about to do that.”
The words should sound like a threat, but it’s more like a sweet, sweet promise. I prompt my hands to my waist. “I was just wondering if you liked it.”
“Of course I like it.” He bares his teeth in a smile. “And I’ll like it even more when they’re gone.” He takes a step, and I see how obvious it is he’s a predator. Though so big and heavy, he corners me like a big cat, hands on the wall to each side of my head. “I’ll like it even more when I rip them with my teeth and part these pretty thighs of yours to sink my cock between them.”
Another shudder races through me, this one much bigger. My nipples peak through the bra, too thin to hide them. Apollo’s eyes zero in on them, and his tongue comes out to lick at his full lips. Wetness rushes out of me, and I have to clamp my thighs together, air escaping my mouth in shallow breaths.
He lowers his head until his lips brush my ear. “It doesn’t matter how hard you press your legs together, mate. I can still smell how wet you are.”
I breathe out, moving my head to meet his gaze. His lips brush my nose, his warmth soaking into my bones. “And what are you going to do about that?”