The Taste Of Youp

The Taste of You

By Sara Bell

"I can't believe you're actually considering this," my brother said for no less than the sixth time. He was sitting on the closed toilet seat, harassing me while I shaved. I said a little prayer of thanks that I'd at least finished my shower before he'd gotten to my apartment or he'd probably be standing beside the tub right about now, preaching to me while I lathered up. Kirk wasn't big on personal boundaries. I sighed, toweling a glob of shaving gel off my bare chest before it made its way onto my last pair of clean jeans. I'd been so busy this week, laundry hadn't been high on my to-do list. "I can't

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believe Mom told you." I picked my razor back up and removed the final stripe of foam and stubble. "Strike that. Yes, I can." "She's worried about you, for God's sake." He lowered his voice, eyes the same color brown as mine narrowing to slits. "We shouldn't even be tolerating these bastards, and now you want to go and offer--" That last statement smacked of so much prejudice I practically choked on it. I wiped the remnants of shaving cream off my face and turned a glare on Kirk. "Define we." Kirk crossed his arms over his chest. We were both tall and lanky like our dad, but he was more muscular than I was, and seeing those pecs of his reminded me I needed to squeeze some gym time onto the same to-do list as my laundry. "Are you even going to pretend to listen to me?" Kirk jumped off the toilet and stamped his foot like a two-year old. "Sorry." I splashed aftershave on my cheeks and chin, whistled through my teeth at the burn, and then said, "What did you say?" "I said I'm talking about us versus them." Kirk's face flushed red with anger. "I don't care what kind of hype the media spins, they aren't human." Okay. He had me on that one. Ten years ago, facing reality meant working to end the economic crisis, trying to bring peace to the Middle East, and vying to stop global warming. That was before vampires, werefolk, selkies, the fey, and all other manner of supernatural creatures had decided to come out of the closet and take their rightful places in society. The term "reality" had taken on a new meaning since then. "Just because they aren't technically human doesn't mean they aren't afforded the same rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness as the rest of us." Since the great revelation, more than one supe, as they were commonly known, had gone to court -- and won -- to protect those very rights. I stalked out of the bathroom and made for my closet. Since I wasn't exactly sure what one wore to a meeting like this, I grabbed a clean black T-shirt and pulled it over my head. I should've known Kirk wasn't going to give up. He came out of the bathroom and plopped down on my bed. "They don’t want equal rights. They want to take over." I shook my head in disbelief. "You can't honestly believe that." He rolled his eyes in disgust. "When did you become so naive?" I wasn't backing down, not on this. "Probably about the same time you became a bigot."

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"Call me names if you want," Kirk said stiffly as he rose from the bed, "but at least I know where my priorities are." He was almost to the bedroom door when he stopped to give me the evil eye. "You think you know so much about the world, think you're better than me 'cause you went to college and I make my money with my hands." "That's not true." It was all I intended to say on the subject. We'd had this conversation so many times I was sick of it. Nothing I said was going to convince Kirk I didn't look down on him, anyway. He'd started at the Press Works gasket plant right out of high school. He made good money, was a great provider for his wife and kids. I admired him for that, but because I'd committed the cardinal sin of going to college and getting my engineering degree, Kirk was convinced I thought I was better than him. Once he got something in his head, there was no changing his mind. "You think you know so much," Kirk said again, "but you're stupid if you think what you're doing is brave, or noble, or even right. I'll work with these supes, do business with them -- be as polite to them as the government says I have to -- but I draw the line at offering myself up like a ribeye in the choice cuts section at Winn-Dixie." With that parting shot, my brother hit on the main bone of contention between us, the reason my mother was upset, the reason Kirk had come over here and acted like a complete and utter asshole. I was thirty minutes away from feeding a vampire, and nobody in my family liked it worth a hot damn. *** I have to admit, I'd never given much thought to how vampires fed. I mean, I knew they drank blood, but I just assumed they went to a blood bank or had the stuff bottled or something. It wasn't until I got a call from our local ASC chapter -- Advancement for Supernatural Citizens -informing me my blood type, B positive, was especially nutritious to vampires, that I realized it was a little more complex than that. Many vampires fed straight from the vein, and I was being asked to be a live, willing donor. I said yes. Why not? I'd been giving to the Red Cross since I turned eighteen. The lady from the ASC gave me some instructions -- drink lots of fluids before I come, wear comfortable clothes, plan to stay about an hour after my donation -- and we set up the appointment. Now, though, as I pulled my Infiniti onto the highway, my nerve was beginning to desert me. I'd been instructed to go not to the ASC headquarters, but to a local supe hangout called Sable. The ASC lady explained the atmosphere there was more relaxed and it would give me and my recipient a chance to get to know each other in a non-threatening environment. When I parked my car in front of Sable and saw the assortment of creatures standing outside, I decided that woman needed to rework her definition of "non-threatening."

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A lot of the folks milling around the parking lot looked human. Maybe a few were, but judging from the near-translucent skin of some, I took them for vamps. A few had the petite builds, sharp features, and pointed ears that marked them as fey, and there were some animals darting in between parked cars that I seriously doubted were purely animals. Before I had the chance to wuss out completely, I got out of the car. I didn't even bother to lock the thing. I figured anybody in this group who wanted inside wasn't going to be deterred by some paltry, factory-installed anti-theft device. I approached the club's door slowly, my head held high. The prejudice my brother had shown went both ways. A lot of supes wouldn't spit on a human if his guts were on fire, but I was here to help somebody out and damned if I was going to show fear. The tallest man I'd ever seen -- I'm six-even but he had to have at least eight inches on me -- was working the door. I took him for a vampire with his white skin and dark eyes. He was respectful but wary as he said, "Can I help you?" I translated that to mean, What are you doing here, human? "I'm Wyatt Shelton." I reached into my back pocket for my wallet in case he needed my ID. I was twenty-six and still looked young enough that I got carded every now and then. "The lady at the ASC told me to come here." "You're a donor?" Door guy's eyes went wide. "Trying to be," I said. "This is my first time." Immediately, my hand was engulfed in his warm grip. "Welcome. I... welcome, Wyatt Shelton. Please, come inside. And put your wallet away. Your money is no good here." Not sure what to make of that, I did as I was told. Door Guy hollered, "Jason, watch the door," and then he ushered me into the club. "I am Carson," he said as we walked. I had no trouble understanding him because the music at Sable wasn't loud like at most other clubs. When I said as much to Carson, he smiled and tapped his ear. "Our hearing is better than yours." He led me to the bar where a hairy-faced guy with a mullet gone haywire was drying glasses with a bar towel. "Martin, this is Wyatt. Give him anything he wants. He's a donor." He'd said it with a tone of reverence, like we were in church or something. Before I could ask him about it, a fight broke out between what looked like a big dog and a coyote on the other side of the dance floor. "Excuse me," Carson said, "but I must take care of this." He touched my arm. "Be well, Wyatt Shelton." "So what'll it be?" Martin's grin was wide and toothy. "You want a beer or something stronger?" "A Coke would be good. Maybe some answers." I took the canned Coke he gave me in one hand and the glass of ice in the other. "Why did Carson start acting like I was the next best thing to shrink-wrapped cheese the minute he found out I was a donor?"

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"You mean they didn't tell you?" Martin went back to drying glasses. "Man, those ASC reps need to get their acts together. See, us weres, we got no problems finding a good meal. What we can't get at the grocery store, we can just go out into the woods and run down." I was proud of myself for not shuddering at that image. "For vampires, it ain't so easy. Some of them can live off the bagged stuff but some can't. The ones who can't have two choices." He lowered his voice and leaned in. "Either get a willing donor to offer up a vein, or feed from some poor sucker without his permission and wipe his memory once it's over." I was starting to get it. Feeding from an unwilling host was illegal these days. Any vamp found guilty could not only be jailed, but could also be sued by the injured party for big-time bucks. "No wonder the ASC is looking for donors." "Yeah, well, not so many of your kind are lining up for the job." He pointed to my unopened can. "You gonna drink that or hold it all night?" I popped the top and poured the Coke over the ice. I'd only taken a sip before I felt a soft tap on my shoulder. I turned to find a slender woman in a white blouse and pencil skirt standing behind me with a clipboard and a pen. "Mr. Shelton? Wyatt Shelton?" I wondered if this was how Alice felt after she fell down the rabbit hole. "Yes, that's me." "I'm Angela Ashmore, Donor/Client liaison for the ASC. Welcome, and thank you so much for coming." She shook my hand. Hers was warm, just like Carson's had been. "If you'll follow me, I'll take you upstairs to one of the private meeting suites." I left my Coke on the bar and trailed after her. She led me up the club's central staircase to a hallway flanked by a wall of doors. Opening the third door on the right, she said, "If you'll wait inside, your potential recipient will be here in a moment." She smiled, flashing just a hint of fang. "I'm sure you must have a lot of questions. He'll be able to explain them all." He? I swallowed. This could be awkward. "Ms. Ashmore--" "Angela, please." "Okay, Angela then. See, here's the thing." I'd been out since I was nineteen -- much to my mother's horror and my dad's shame. Having lived through that whole process, I wasn't usually shy about my sexuality. Then again, I'd never had to out myself in a supe bar before. I had no idea if supes had as many hang-ups about orientation as humans did. I wet my lips. "I'm, uh, I sort of thought I was going to be feeding a woman." She cocked her head to the side. "You have an objection to feeding another man?"

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"No, but he might." Sharing your blood with somebody sounded pretty intimate to me. "I'm gay." "Oh." She broke out in a smile that was thick with relief. "Oh. No, that won't be a problem. In our community, that's not an issue like it is for humans." She patted my arm. "This will be fine. You'll see." Damn, but I hopped she was right. The room was nice. It had a TV, a comfortably shabby couch with a couple of matching chairs, and a coffee table thick with magazines that were actually current. A mini-fridge sat in the corner and there was a console against the far wall loaded with sugary snacks, the kind the volunteers at blood drives always push on you after you've made a donation. I settled onto the couch with a copy of GQ. My wait wasn't long. A couple of minutes after I sat down, a soft knock rapped on the door. I was proud of how calm I sounded when I called out, "Come in." Based on the other vamps I'd seen since walking into Sable, I had a half-formed picture in my mind of what my recipient would look like. I figured he'd be at least as tall as me, have black hair -- maybe the same shade as mine, even -- and dark eyes like Carson's. I expected he'd come in, we'd chat politely for a second, and then we'd get down to business. All those ideas were shot straight to hell when the door opened wide and in walked Luke Bates, my ex-boyfriend. The same son of a bitch who'd used up a year of my life and damned-near crushed my heart. *** I'd often thought about what I'd say if I ever saw Luke again. I can't believe you cared more about your next fix than me. We'd met in college, had carried on a hard and heavy affair before he'd gone from popping pills and smoking pot to mainlining heroin. Why hadn't I been enough for you, Luke? Both his folks and I had done all we could to get him help, but in the end Luke had disappeared, left school -- and me -- and gone to God only knew where to be one with his habit. I hadn't seen or heard from him since. I've thought about you every day since you left me, you bastard. I'd had other relationships, of course, but he'd been my first love, and I don't think anybody ever gets over the first. None of those other guys was you. Luke seemed as startled to see me as I was him. His jaw worked like he wanted to open his mouth but couldn't find any words worth speaking. After a long, tense silence, he said, "This is a surprise." "Which part, you seeing the guy you decimated seven years ago waiting to become your dinner, or me finding out my ex is now a member of the undead?" Did I mention I tend to get snarky when I'm stressed? Luke blinked. I was surprised to realize his eyes were still blue. In fact, other than his skin being a bit more pale, he didn't look all that different. Same blond hair, same movie-perfect face.

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Really, he looked better now than the last time I'd seen him, but that could be because tonight he wasn't strung out and going through my sock drawer looking for cash. "We're not really dead, you know." Luke closed the door behind him with a soft click, probably so the rest of the club's occupants with their sensitive ears wouldn't have such an easy time hearing us. "That whole undead thing's a myth." "Sorry." I folded in on myself the way I always did when I was feeling set upon. "I'm new to this. I'm still kind of freaked out by it all." "I can only imagine." He smiled, a real smile that -- with the exception of the unnatural length of his incisors -- made him look like the guy I remembered, the one I'd lost my heart to. "It was nice of you to offer yourself as a donor." "I'm B positive." I have the tendency to blurt out random bits of information when I'm nervous. "Wow, that's, um..." I could tell he was trying not to laugh, "great." Luke sat down in one of the empty chairs. He chose the one furthest away from my position on the couch, probably to make me more comfortable. "Under the circumstances, I'll understand if you want me to call the ASC and ask them to send over another recipient." "You don't want my blood?" Okay, that one pissed me off. I was the one who'd had his heart smashed into a thousand tiny lumps of goo. If anybody was going to grind this evening to halt, it was going to be me, Mr. Injured Party. "No! I mean, yes, of course I want..." Luke held up his hands in surrender. "Shit. I wish vampires had a handbook or something." He dropped his hands and put his head down. "God, how you must hate me." I'd wanted to. Even convinced myself I did a time or three. In the end, I'd never been quite able to pull it off. I scooted a little closer to his end of the couch. "How did this happen?" He lifted his head. "My becoming a vampire, you mean?" I nodded. "Are you allowed to tell me or is it against the rules?" "I can tell you, but are you sure you want to hear it?" No. "Yes." "About a year after I... after we broke up, my mom finally convinced me to give rehab a try." Luke rubbed the bend of his right elbow. It used to be his favorite place to shoot up. "Took me eighteen months, but I got clean. I've been sober ever since." "That's... congratulations." Why didn't you come back for me, Luke?

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"I didn’t think you'd ever want to see me again," he whispered. My eyes flew to his. "Can you read my mind?" "No." His eyebrows disappeared into his shaggy bangs. "Some vampires have that talent but I don't--" He got it, then. "Is that what you were thinking, that I didn't want you back?" I looked away. "Finish the story." "Right." I thought I heard him sigh. "So the rehab was a success. I went back to school, finished my degree, and got a job as a social worker." I had to look at him, then. "You?" "I know, right?" His smile this time was self deprecating and sexy as all get out. "I was pretty darned good at it if I do say so myself. Maybe all my years as a junkie gave me the ability to empathize with my clients. The state of Alabama hired me, put me with DHR. My main job was helping families whose lives have been torn apart by meth." The smile disappeared. "Six months ago, our office got a call from the local PD. They'd busted a suspected meth lab being run out of a house just north of Huntsville. Two kids under the age of four were inside, living in squalor. I was the case worker DHR sent out." If it was possible for a vampire to lose even more color, Luke did. "The officers thought they'd secured the scene. They hadn't counted on the meth-head hiding in back of the house with a handgun." There was no mistaking his sigh this time. "I took two shots to the chest, either of which would've been fatal. Lucky for me, one of the cops on the scene was a good friend of mine." I got the message. "Who also happens to be a vampire." "HPD is one of the first forces in Alabama to use vamps. So far, the program's going well," Luke said. "Anyway, my friend turned me and I've been adjusting to my new life ever since." "I'm sure your friend's been helping with that." An unpleasant curl of something that couldn't possibly be jealousy burned low in my gut. "So, this cop who turned you..." "Chris." "Right, Chris." I've always hated that name. "Are the two of you an item?" It was a casual question. Nothing wrong with me asking it. Luke and I, we were just two old friends playing catch-up. "No," Luke said. "Chris isn't my type." "Too much of a jock?" Most of the cops I knew were big into sports. Luke had always hated that type.

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"Too female. Chris is short for Christine." Luke folded his hands together and laid them in his lap. "She saved me, but my system hasn't been able to tolerate the bagged blood. The platelets separate slightly once the blood is refrigerated and my body can't assimilate it. It's a problem many of us have." "Explaining the need for donors," I said. "Yes." A moment of strained silence passed. "Yes, I need a donor, but I would never ask that of you, not after the hell I made of your life. For what it's worth, I'm sorry." "I don't hate you." I got up off the couch, unable to sit still any longer. I paced a little, but the room was too small for me to do much of it. "You said that before, but I don't. I was mad at you for a long time, but I don't think I can even say I'm angry anymore." "I'm glad." Luke's voice was soft, a little husky. "I wanted to call you a thousand times, tell you how sorry I was. It's part of the twelve steps, to make amends. I was too afraid you'd slam the phone down in my ear. Too much of a coward to try." "You're saying it now." I stopped pacing and looked at him. "I think I forgave you a long time ago. That doesn't mean I'm ready to be your best friend, but I think I can be civil long enough to help you out." "You need to think about it, Wyatt." Hearing him say my name sent warm shivers rolling over my skin. "Feeding can be pretty... intense." "What does it involve?" I shouldn't even ask. The minute he said 'intense,' I should've walked away. I'd done intense with Luke before and it hadn't been pretty. "I can drink from any vein. Your wrist, your neck, other places." Was it my imagination or did his eyes flicker to my crotch? Before I could worry about it he was looking me in the face again. "I don't need more than a few sips and then I'm done. The problem is when I feed, my emotions and your emotions are liable to get tangled together, especially since we have a history together. And since the two of us used to have--" He waved his hand back and forth between us to get his point across. "Are you talking about sex?" "Yeah, that." Luke's face went nuclear. I didn't know vampires could blush. "Since we used to have sex, it's likely those feelings could come back." I sat back down on the couch. "You said feeding can be intense. Does that mean the same thing could happen with any vampire I donate to?" "Yes." Luke looked sick at the thought. His answer is what made up my mind. "I'll do it," I said.

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"I... Why would you risk that with me?" "I've already decided to donate. I want to help any way I can. If giving my blood to a vampire is going to turn me into a horn dog, I'd rather it be with you, someone I--" I almost said trust before I caught myself. I'd stopped trusting Luke the day he stole my ATM card and withdrew two hundred bucks so he could shoot up. "I'd rather do this with someone I know." "Makes sense." He came to sit beside me on the couch. "Are you ready to get started or do you need some more time?" I wasn't about to put it off for fear I'd lose my nerve. "Now's fine." I stuck my left arm up to his face. I'd decided the vein in my wrist would have to do. Luke's mouth quirked. "Not that I don't appreciate this, but could you try to relax a little bit?" He circled my wrist with his smooth fingers. "Your muscles are so tense, biting into you is going to be like gnawing on a brick." His other hand stroked the back of my forearm, willing me to relax whether I wanted to or not. I forced myself to be as calm as I could, but watching Luke lower his head to my wrist made it difficult to breathe. I wasn't sure where the myth about vampires being cold came from because his breath on my skin was hot, as was the first tingling touch of his lips. I was spellbound as his fangs lengthened and then sank into my flesh. It hurt in the same way a zap of static electricity hurts. You try to jerk away, but before you can, the shock is over with. In this case, after the shock came a deluge of sensations: memories, feelings, thoughts, none of them substantial enough to hold on to, all of them enough to take my cock from zero to sixty in two-point-six seconds. I could still feel Luke gently nursing at my wrist, but my main focus was the agony between my legs. I felt like I'd had about two hours of foreplay with no release. I'd never been so hard I actually hurt before, and it wasn't pretty. Luke realized what had happened the minute he finished feeding. As soon as he let go of my wrist, I doubled over on the couch with a moan. I heard Luke say, "Shit," and then I was in his arms and he was easing in behind me on the couch, leaning me against him so I was semiupright. "Easy, love." He kissed the side of my neck. "I'll help you if you'll let me. Wyatt, can I do that?" "Yeah." It came out more groan than answer, but the minute it left my mouth, Luke had me flat on my back and was whipping my pants and boxers off. As soon as I was naked from the waist down, he took my cock in his mouth and started to suck. The pressure of his mouth felt good, but like he'd predicted, I was all tangled inside. I needed to come, but I couldn't. The term blue balls was starting to have real meaning for me. I was beginning to have awful images of being taken to the emergency room (like those guys they

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warn you about on the Viagra commercials who have the four-hour erections) when Luke did a very smart thing. He slid one of his fingers all the way inside me. I came with a shout, not caring that every creature in the bar below could probably hear me. I felt like everything I had to give was pouring out of me and into Luke. He stayed with me, not pulling off until I was completely done. When he finally moved away, I wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed or grateful. Luke went over to the console table and came back with a package of wet wipes and some chocolate-frosted cupcakes. He set the cupcakes on the table, took one wet wipe for himself, and handed me another. "Thanks." I couldn't look at him now, just cleaned myself up and got dressed. He waited until I'd zipped my pants back up and said, "If you're feeling guilty, don't. This is my fault. I should've known something like this would happen." I couldn't help but look at him, then. He looked so shamefaced it tore at my heart. "You couldn't have known--" "We have unfinished business between us," he said. "I may be new at this vampire stuff, but that's no excuse." "Hold up." I picked up the cupcakes, more to have something to do than because I wanted them. "Are you saying this happened because of our unresolved feelings for each other?" I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud so I gestured to my now-behaving dick. Luke nodded miserably. "You might've gotten a little, um, excited with someone else, but no way would it have been that bad." "And every time I feed you, this is going to happen?" "Until we work out whatever's between us, it might." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Don’t worry about calling the ASC. I'll contact them, tell them you need another recipient and I need another donor." The smart thing probably would've been to do exactly what he suggested: give up on him, pick up my toys, and go home. Luke and I were way too combustible -- God knows we had more baggage than the luggage carousel at Huntsville International Airport -- but I was too stubborn to put up with the idea of leaving something undone. "That's one option," I said. "Another is I can keep feeding you until you and I work through whatever it is that caused this."

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"You don't know what you're suggesting." He pushed his hand through his hair. "Wyatt, I-- oh, shit, you're too pale. Eat your cupcakes." Luke rushed over to the mini-fridge and came back with a bottle of orange juice. He had the top off and was on the couch beside me, shoving it in my face almost faster than my eyes could track. "Orange juice and chocolate?" Yuck. "Just drink it, you big baby." He rubbed small circles on my back. I did as I was told, even though I didn't feel bad in the first place. After I finished my juice, I said, "Just think about it. You have to get your blood from somewhere. Why not from me?" "Because I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you again." Luke was as honest in that moment as I'd ever seen him. "I have a simple solution for you, then." I turned sideways on the couch so I could look at him. "Don't hurt me and we'll be just fine." *** It took some convincing, but I finally got Luke to agree to let me keep being his donor for the time being. Turns out vampires didn't need to feed more than about two to three times a week, so we agreed we'd meet up again on Friday night. I didn't want to donate at Sable again so we decided we'd meet at my place, instead. It was funny, how formal we were about exchanging contact information, like he hadn't just had my dick in his mouth. It was actually kind of a relief. It took some of the pressure off me. When I got back home that night, Kirk was gone, but he'd left a message on my answering machine telling me in no uncertain terms that as long as I hung out with those "monsters" I was to steer clear of my nieces and nephews. It was pretty much the same speech he'd given me when he'd found out I was gay. He'd come around some, but it's not like Kirk had ever really let me spend much time with the kids. It still hurt. I spent the next couple of days working, finishing up a project my team and I had been trying to knock out for months. It kept me so busy, I didn't have much time to worry about Friday and what might happen when I fed Luke again. Late Thursday night, after an exhausting day at work where not a single thing had gone the way it was supposed to, my cell phone rang. I answered it without paying attention to the number. "Do you still like Italian food?" Luke's voice was the best thing I'd heard all day. "Yes. Why?"

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"I thought we'd grab a bite before I, um, grab a bite."

"Can vampires eat people food?"

"People food? You make me sound like a cocker spaniel begging for table scraps." He laughed.

"We can eat all we want, we just don't get any nutritive value from it. The upside is, no weight

gain."

"Bragger," I said. "Wait. Italian? What about the garlic?"

"Old wives' tale."

I thought for a minute. "Crucifixes?"

"I'm not cursed by God, and I do have a soul."

I grinned. "Sunlight?" "I won't burst into flames, it'll just hurt like all hell." He made a rude noise, and I could practically hear him rolling his eyes. "Before you ask, I don't die in my sleep and I don't zonk out in a coffin. So, did I pass this round of Twenty Q?" He waited. "Will you let me take you to dinner?" "I'd like that." It took me a long time to fall asleep after we hung up. *** He was a half hour early picking me up Friday evening. The sun hadn't been set long when I

heard the knock on my door.

Luke looked great. He was wearing a pair of well-worn jeans and a white T-shirt that showed

every muscle he had. All the saliva evaporated from my mouth.

He just stood there on my doorstep until my brain finally kicked into gear. "I'm sorry," I said.

"Do vampires have to be invited in before they can enter someone's house?"

"Yes." The way he was smiling made me question his answer.

I narrowed my eyes. "Why?"

"Because it's rude to barge right in." He laughed when I popped his arm. "You look great, by the

way."

"Thanks." Seven years and he still made me feel like a teenager.

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Luke lounged against my door while I grabbed my wallet and keys. "Wyatt, there's something I think we need to get straight before we go." I paused in the act of stuffing my wallet in my back pocket. "What's that?" "This is a date." I went numb, my feet feeling like they weren't on solid ground anymore. "Luke--" "Let me finish, please." He pushed away from the door and came toward me, stopping well away so I wasn't being crowded. "I don't believe in accidents. The last six months have shown me everything happens for a reason. When I walked into that feeding room at Sable and saw you sitting there..." His eyes were filled with wonder. "I refuse to believe finding you again was some random coincidence." I wasn't big on the whole "shit just happens" school of thinking, either, but though I'd forgiven Luke for the past, I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to open myself to him that way again. "We're different people now." "I saw enough of the old Wyatt in you the other night to remind me of what I already knew," Luke said softly. "I still love you. I never stopped." My throat clogged. I'd never had a panic attack before but I figured I was about to start. "Easy." Luke took my hand and led me to my couch. He eased down next to me. "I'm not telling you this to put any pressure on you. I just want you to know how I feel. You say we're different people. I certainly am. The Luke you knew was a druggie, a user of the worst kind. What I'm asking is a chance to prove to you how much I've changed." After a few minutes I could think again. "A date, huh?" "Yep." Luke's fingers trailed over the back of my hand. "Unless you tell me to back off, you're officially being courted." Given all that lay between us, I probably should've told him to back off. What came out of my mouth was, "Let's go. I'm starving." *** The restaurant was one of those hole-in-the-wall places that doesn't worry about atmosphere and instead concentrates all their attention on the food. I had the best fettuccine Alfredo I've ever had while Luke dug into a plate of linguini with clams. I had a glass of white wine. Luke had water. Though I enjoyed the food, the best part was the conversation. "So you're still working as a social worker?" I asked around a bite of breadstick.

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He wiped his mouth. "Yes, but not for the state. I work for the ASC now, in its family division. You'd be surprised how many supes need assistance." He pushed his empty plate away. I could definitely see an upside to the no-gaining-weight thing. "So what about you? What do you do for a living?" I always hated telling people about my job. Made me feel like a registered geek. I played it cool. "I'm an engineer." I was hoping he'd do like most people, nod politely and let it drop. Leave it to Luke to be super-interested. "Wyatt, that's amazing." He touched my hand, just for a second. "You always were a math genius. What branch did you go into?" Usually I tried to whisper my way through this part, but with his enhanced hearing I knew it wouldn't work. I bit the bullet. "Aerospace. I work at NASA." "You're a rocket scientist?" Most people said those words like they were gearing up to hand me my official nerd card and secret decoder ring, but Luke just sounded really, really proud. I'd forgotten how easy being with him was when he wasn't high. After dinner, Luke invited me back to his place. "Just to prove that I don't sleep in a pine box," he joked, but I knew why he was doing it. We'd come in my car, and we were going to his place. He was letting me know -- without words -- I was free to leave at any time. No pressure, just like he'd promised. His house was great, an older two-story in Madison. The furniture was contemporary -- just my style -- all sleek, clean lines. He had pictures of his parents and his sister on the mantel. "What do they think of all this?" I pointed to the photos as Luke handed me a glass of water. "I can't imagine finding out your son's a vampire is an easy thing." "No, but you know how they are. Mom and Dad -- Jen, too -- they've always been there for me." He shook his head. "Been better to me than I deserve." Luke walked over to the mantel, eyes focused on the pictures. "All three of them offered to donate for me, but I just couldn't do it." He let out a long, slow breath. "I've taken enough from them." He looked back at me, as sad as I've ever seen him. "You, too, for that matter." "Hey." I joined him at the mantel, consumed with the need to comfort him. "You're being too hard on yourself. Yeah, you've made mistakes, but damned if you aren't trying to make things right. You've been sober longer now than you were using, and you've gone into a line of work designed to give back to society. You've made your amends." I caressed his face, needing to touch him. I realized as the words left my mouth I wasn't going to be able to walk away from this. Luke and I had a long way to go, but no way could I turn my back, not after finding him again. He seemed to know what I was thinking. "Wyatt," he said, and then he kissed me. He tasted like the mints we'd both had after dinner, but he also tasted the way I remembered him tasting. Funny

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how a person has a taste, but Luke does. I thought maybe he would taste different since he'd been turned, but he just tasted like Luke. My Luke. He scooped me into his arms and then we were in the bedroom. I'm pretty sure he used vampire speed to get us there, but I was too busy undressing him to notice. "Wyatt, honey," he panted (that whole thing about vampires not needing to breathe is totally bogus), "if this isn't what you want, you'd better tell me now. Once I get started I don't know if I can stop." I answered him by unzipping his pants. That must've flipped Luke's on-switch because the next thing I knew we were both naked, working to see who could cover who in the most kisses. At some point I ended up on top, and a few minutes after that I'd kissed my way down his belly to suck on his cock. "Oh, sweet Jesus." I grinned and then sucked harder. I wasn't sure what to expect when he came in my mouth, but I'm pleased to announce vampires don't taste any different than humans. They do, however, seem to have more stamina. Luke was still hard when he handed me the bottle of lube from beside his bed and said, "Fuck me." As directives go, nothing works better on a horny guy than "fuck me." Vampires apparently don't need as much prep as humans. Either that or Luke was really raring to go. It seemed like no time had passed before I was inside him, my hips finding a comfortable rhythm, his legs wrapping around me, urging me on. Luke was so tight, I knew I wasn't going to last long. His moist heat was at once a homecoming and a new beginning. I gritted my teeth, determined to hold off until I could make him come again. Then I felt his fangs sink into my neck and my world exploded in bright, shiny colors. Unlike the last time he'd fed, the sensations this time -- while every bit as all-consuming and dazzling -- weren't bewildering or overwhelming. I could feel Luke's pleasure as he came with me, could feel my own, but most of all I felt his love for me. We lay locked together a long time before either of us thought to move. *** I spent the night at his place. Vampires don't sleep like the dead (Luke snores). We made love three times throughout the night and into the morning. By the time I was so sated I could scarcely walk, I had to face facts: I'd never stopped loving Luke. Probably never would.

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We dated three months before I told him. We were taking a moonlight walk through the park near my apartment complex when I said, "You know I'm in love with you, right?" He stopped walking, just froze in his tracks. "I'm not going to let you take it back now that you've said it." "Good." I took his hand and we started walking again. Things weren't perfect -- my family still wasn't speaking to me and the tide of bigotry against supernaturals was still going strong -- but walking under the moonlight with Luke, they felt pretty damned close.

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The Taste of You Copyright © 2009 by Sara Bell All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680 Printed in the United States of America. Torquere Press, Inc.: Sips electronic edition / October 2009 Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680

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