Bite Me Read online

  Bite

  by Lucee Joie

  COPYRIGHT © 2012 by Lucee Joie

  Cover and internal design by Lucee Joie / Canva

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author and publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Thank you for respecting the creative rights and hard work of the author by purchasing an authorized edition of this book and not reproducing, scanning, or illegally distributing any part of this published work. Your support of legally purchased reading materials means that authors all over the world can continue to make an honest living from their hard work, so that they are able to continue publishing stories for readers to enjoy.

  (Please feel free to contact me on [email protected])

  The characters and events portrayed by the author are fictitious, and are used as such. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  First Printing, 2012

  Contents

  Title Page

  Bite

  Chapter One – Beth

  Chapter Two – Beth

  Chapter Three – Horgeer

  Chapter One - Lena

  Chapter Two - Rooster

  About the Author

  Bite

  There it was again. Something dark and shadowy scuttled underneath the gate as she walked past. Her heels clicked loudly in the still night. Butting her cigarette out she felt the warm smoke mingle with the tendril of cold fog as she walked.

  She was not fearful. Yet.

  For a hundred years it had felt like she walked this path. The trip home from her day job was a long one. Some days more so than others. In winter the nights ate away at her journey and she found herself walking in the darkness. Not that she minded. She was reclusive by nature and the solitude of the night was a comfort to her.

  Madam Kitty was her stage name. She picked it on a whim and her fans loved it before she could change it to something she actually liked. Although, in the world of burlesque, it certainly titillated. Her mother had christened her with the less fancy name of Kate Elspeth Rosewood. She would be spinning in her grave now if she could see the profession her daughter had chosen.

  Skittering sounds, there behind her. Kate glanced back towards the gate. Nothing there. She was tending towards spooked now so picked up her walking pace. Her heels clacked with desire - a desire to get her butt home as soon as possible!

  The fog thickened around her. Her nostrils began to hurt with the cold air. Pulling out another long dark More cigarette, she stuck it in her mouth and dug the Zippo from her coat pocket. The movement of air caressed her neck, a tendril of hair lifted and resettled in a slightly different spot. She shivered and remembered him.

  The man in the audience. Tall and dark with a jawline that made her think of some private detective from an old black and white movie. At first, she ignored his piercing gaze. He sat in the middle of a row that was close to the centre of the room. Kate was half way through her second performance when she noticed him. He never blinked or twitched or even shifted his weight as he watched her.

  In all her years as a burlesque performer, in all the skimpy and topless outfits she had worn, she never felt as naked as she had today in front of that man. Concentrating on her show, she paraded and pranced but was constantly distracted by the still figure. He was creepier than one-eyed Michael who leered at all the girls as they ran off stage. He pawed at everyone equally, saliva running down his chin as he grabbed. Quite often he left his zipper open and his wrinkled old Johnson peeped out and waved as the girls passed quickly by.

  Now that was creepy - but nothing like this man. If Kate could say that any one person was dangerous, then he would be sitting in the audience now staring at her. But sometimes it was the lack of being able to pinpoint the awful which put you the most at unease. Kate had felt that about this man. While he was incredibly good-looking and looked like he earned a solid quid, she would not have dated him even if he were the last eligible bachelor left in the entire world.

  And yet there was something there. Something deep below the surface which bought her eyes back to him. Somewhere inside was a hidden quality beckoning to her. She could feel the slight rush of heat to her face (and to other areas too) that meant she found him at least somewhat alluring. It was a conflicted emotion. She was terrified of this man, yet felt drawn to him also.

  Maybe she could detect a little of herself in him. The part that wanted to watch people more than talk to them. And maybe that was why she was so fearful of him. While the unknown was scary, knowing what to expect was sometimes worse.

  He sat there during her two numbers. She knew neither whether he liked what he saw or if he was merely in the audience on a whim. Maybe he was attempting to tick ‘visited a Burlesque bar’ off his bucket list?

  Later on, when Kate was changing and saw the flicking shadow out of the corner of her eye, for the briefest of moments, she had anticipated that man in her room when she turned, shoe at the ready. When the room was empty, she was almost disappointed. She could do with a little danger in her lonely life right now.

  The Zippo stuck the first time she struck the flint with her thumb. Catching the second time, she took a long drag. The menthol did little to ease the pain in her nostrils, but it certainly calmed her nerves. Feeling brave now, she stood for a moment and looked around. The road was narrow, trees crowded in around her like school gossips wanting to look over her shoulder. The moon was barely a scraping in the sky and gave little light. Not that it would have made a difference if it were full, since the fog swallowed up most of the available light.

  She was only four houses from her own but she could not see it, the fog was like whipped cream around her. Across the road was the park. Kate could only tell this because it darkened more on that side of the road. Squinting, she could make out a couple of large looming shapes of the oaks she knew grew there. The pond was only identifiable when one duck quacked to another and she then knew which direction in which to look.

  Again, the breeze lifted the hair at the nape of her neck. It felt delicious on her skin. She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, savouring the feeling. Remembering her day. Remembering the man in the audience. The one who, if she were to admit her deepest thoughts to her conscious mind, made her shiver in delight just like the breeze was doing to her now.

  When she opened her eyes, a shadow darted in front of her. At first, she thought it were a man. The man. Him in the audience. Tall and dark and covered in shadows. He was gone before she could place any other features to him. Was the image real? Or was it that damn shadow-thing she kept seeing out of the corner of her eye?

  It had been there all day. When she reached Risqué Business, where she worked, she first came across the creeping wisp of shadow as she pulled open the staff entrance door. Ignoring it, thinking it was just a cloud overhead. Then, when she was dressing, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Thinking a client had snuck in for a little 'extra' show, she whipped around, all but ready to throw her blue suede porn shoes at him. Secretly she was hoping to poke him in the eye with the killer heels, but no one had been there.

  During her lunch break, while she had been smoking rather than eating, a cloud had blocked the sun, or so she thought. When peering upwards, she found the clearest of days. The sun shone warm and free from any encumbrance.

  The shadow came at her from all different angles. While she was painting her toenails blood red it leaped out from under her t
hick brown curls. When she washed her hands in the pokey bathroom, she thought she saw it creeping into a cubicle behind her. Turning, she found nothing out of the ordinary except for a dirty foot print on a scrap of forgotten and abandoned toilet paper.

  It went on all day like this. A dark shape here and the suggestion of shadowy movement there. She was snarky by the time she left. Snarky and tired and ready to rip apart whatever it was following her. The other girls were certainly glad when her shift was over.

  Now she could feel a headache coming on. She rubbed at her temples. The cool night air felt like magic on her forehead. She searched the dark and tried to find the source of the shadowy figure that had just graduated to man-shaped.

  "Here kitty, kitty..." the wind whipped the words out of the air before Kate could get a sense of direction. Straining, she turned and waited for the words to be spoken again in their dark and throaty male voice. Nothing. Taking another long drag of her cigarette, she shook the heebie-jeebies out and turned back towards her home.

  "Stupid imagination,” she muttered under her breath as she stomped along with gritty determination.

  ***

  The house was stale as she entered. She shucked off her coat and threw it in the general direction of the kitchen table. Slipping out of her red heels she reached out and flicked the switch on the kettle. The water was from this morning, but once she had added two scoops of instant coffee and three sugars, she would never even notice the taste of old kettle.

  It was quiet here on this side of town. The mountains crowded in and protected the few who lived here. Taking her steaming mug, Kate sat by the large bay window that looked out over the valley. In daylight, the view was amazing. Now it was just inky black with a few pin pricks of light. Even the fog was hard to see.

  She had only taken a small sip when she heard the man calling to his cat again.

  "Here kitty, kitty..."

  His voice purred softly over the hills. Without even thinking, Kate closed her eyes. She was no longer thinking about why there was a man looking for a cat, or why she could hear it from inside her house. She wasn't even perplexed over her shadow problem. She just enjoyed the bitter sweet brew in her mug and the quiet of the night.

  Sleep beckoned. Her eyes were heavy. As they closed, the man could be heard again. His voice gravely and resonant. It reached deep down into her core and made her shiver, not with fear, but with desire. The voice was so manly it made her tingle in places that she liked to have tingle. Without even thinking, she reached down and helped the feeling along.

  It had been so long since she'd had a man about. Not since Eric had taken her for a very short, but extremely volatile ride. She thought he would turn out to be ‘the one.’ He worked hard to wine and dine her, taking her to places she could never afford on her wage. Showing her the world through the eyes of the rich. She loved every short moment of their affair.

  She even told him she loved him. Sure, it had been only two weeks into their relationship but she meant it. He returned the sentiments and she thought he meant it too. Turns out he just loved getting into her pants.

  The first time he received an angry call from a woman, Kate was happy to brush it off as an irate and irrational client of his. He was so good with words, whether they be those opulent whispered sweet nothings after they made love or the heated words spoken when the waiter at a fancy restaurant had spilled soup across the table. Kate had been able to mop up most of what landed in her lap, accepting the poor man’s blundering apologies, but not Eric. He had spoken so eloquently as to get the man fired on the spot.

  She thought it was romantic and terribly chivalrous at the time. When his mood swings and violent outbursts started to shift to her, she was no longer so sure. His passions extended not only to the bedroom, but to any place he could get it. Kate found it hard to keep up with his urges. When she refused him, his passion turned sour and he shouted like a fiend.

  The second time a woman called, Kate herself answered the phone. Eric stood still as she and his wife had an interesting conversation. Kate threw the phone at his head after she hung up. Hurriedly she put her clothes on and left him behind. She still pined for him though. It didn’t help when he sent her love notes and flowers on a regular basis.

  It had been almost as long between women too. After Eric she dated another dancer who went by the stage name of Lolly Legs. She never learned her real name. Their affair had been briefer than the one she shared with Eric. It filled a spot though. She actually ached for a human touch. Her breath quickened. The sound of the man became louder.

  "Here kitty, kitty..." His voice was deep, so deep and so close that she wanted to open her eyes, sure he was now in the room with her. She didn't though. She could feel the desire for release mounting and didn't want the fantasy to dissolve now before the good bit arrived.

  She imagined the dark shadowy form from earlier as she caressed herself. Fleshing him out, she added wild dark hair that hung down. His shoulders bulged and ripped with masculine muscular definition. He was only wearing pants. A scant trail of dark growth leading from his navel to his nether regions was the only evidence of any hair on his chest. And what a magnificent specimen he was. His dark skin glistened as though he had been oiled.

  Kate wanted to run her fingers all over him but instead continued to work on herself. She wished he would help her out. As if reading her mind, her fantasy man reached out and touched her cheek. A faint groan escaped her lips at his touch, her headache instantly relieved with the coolness of his hand.

  "Let me in kitty, kitty..."

  Without even thinking, Kate’s knees relaxed. The cool fingers responded. A deliciously and tantalising sensation of cold flesh left a slow trail from her cheek. It took forever for the strong hand to move over her flesh. Small bumps appeared along her skin as his touch left it's sensual trail. Her breath quickened. She wanted to open her eyes. She wanted to see what colour his were.

  "Hush kitty, kitty..." his voice murmured. "Keep your eyes shut..."

  Kate did as she was told. This was the best fantasy ever, she decided in a hurry. Her own fingers were working to a crescendo now and her moment for rational thoughts were quickly over.

  The cool hand and its dexterous fingers were now slithering down her neck. A very small tingle of fear reminded her that things were weird when his hand paused and cupped her fragile neck. She could feel her pulse under the palm of his hands. The terror was slight, compared to the passion.

  "Let go kitty, kitty..."

  Her hand fell from her lap. She let the sensations of this marvellous man take over. Ever so slowly, his hand loosened from around her neck. Then it was gone. She whimpered. He responded by leaning forward and replacing his hand with his lips. Her neck wanted to twitch under the tickle of their delicate touch. She was so caught up in the surge of sensation that she nearly missed the feel of silk as it slithered over one wrist. It was gone ever so briefly before settling down again on bare skin. Wrapping it gently around her wrist, she felt a little trickle of fear again. Her hand twitched involuntarily.

  "Bad kitty..."

  He bit at her neck. It was harsh and sudden and hit her straight between the legs. She arched her back in response. Reaching up she clasped at the thick hair hanging around his neck. Her fingers tangled in it. She wanted to yank at his hair with both hands but found the other was already securely tied to the chair. Strangely, her fear was gone. Her passion welled. She scratched at his hard face, hoping to anger him.

  It worked.

  He quickly nipped at her chin before pulling away. Roughly he grabbed her hand. She thought he would tie that one down too, instead he bought it up to his lips. The flicker of his tongue danced along her nails. She tried to pinch it. His response was to bite down on one finger and she with that she felt another jolt of excitement. His wet tongue circled the very tip of her finger. He sucked gently before releasing it from his mouth. She whimpered her regret.

  Another silken scarf. This one fluttered down a
round her neck. Her pulse quickened. The fear was still eerily absent. She craned her neck so her rapid pulse could be seen in plain sight. The scarf touched it and then was gone again. A moment later it came to rest over her eyes. It tightened around her head and she felt two hands tying it securely.

  His body touched hers as he leaned over to tie the scarf. Her one free hand reached up and finally felt his chest. It was just as firm as she suspected. So smooth, so alive, yet still so frigid to the touch. Her nails dug in. Would he would cry out in pain, proving he was real? She wanted to keep him for herself and taste his flesh. Was it wrong to want to devour him in every possible way?

  She felt heat mounting, deep down inside. Her thighs quivered like jelly. Throwing herself forward, she lunged at his chest, her teeth grating at his strong muscles with a fervour that only a wild thing would understand. His skin was cool between her teeth. But that coolness made her passion erupt in an odd heat.

  "Lick it kitty..."

  Her tongue needed no further instruction. It sought out his skin and sucked at it hungrily. She felt her last hand being tied to the chair and she shrieked. She bit him again, shaking her head in her fury. Blood welled in her mouth and she drank of him like she would a cold glass of water after a long day in the sun. Pulling back, she moved her head, searching for his nipple.

  A hand behind her head forced her mouth back to his chest. She bit with gusto. Ah yes, sweet nipple. She felt the double pulsing pleasure as his hand squeezed her own nipple. It recoiled in the pain and the pleasure of it all. He pulled at it before letting it go. She would have mewled like a kitten if he hadn’t then squeezed the other one. The gulp that swallowed her tinkering cry made her gag.

  She wanted desperately to grab at him. To force him to kiss her. She wanted to find out if his tongue was the same temperature as the rest of him. She thought about other parts of him. Parts that surely had to be as hot as hell right about now.