Fiery Nights (3 page)

“Thanks, but there’s nothing to tell.”

Luckily, I was distracted by a couple of emergency calls
that night—an old woman who was having trouble breathing and had to be taken by
ambulance to the hospital and some kid who was freaking out on drugs and also
had to be taken in.

Another week went by. I had two days off in a row midweek. I
checked on the Vamps website once, okay every day, to see what was going on,
but then remembered how I needed to get myself back in check. Instead I spent
one night having dinner catch-up with a friend and the other one going to the
movies on my own.

Saturday night finally came again. Whenever Nike and I had
Saturday nights off, we’d go to Vamps as it was the best night of the week. I
wished she was with me now for some moral support at least, but there was someone
else I wanted to see that night even more.

I paid particular attention to my appearance that evening.
After a long, hot shower where I groomed myself meticulously, as if I had a
lover awaiting me that evening, I then spent another forty-five minutes trying
on outfits. One by one they went from my closet to my body, and then after
being rejected, tossed onto an armchair.

“Ugh, stop acting as if you’re in middle school and just
pick something,” I admonished myself.

Finally I decided on a form-fitting black dress, with Asian
red floral satin accents down the front and back where the dress laced together
and a slit that reached halfway up my thigh. Sure the black would blend in with
everyone else, but the red gave it a little punch. And I wanted to be seen by
someone in particular. Not stand out in a bright red, look-at-me, va-va-va-voom
number, but one that gave me a little differentiation from the crowd.

I straightened my still-black hair until it went halfway
down my back and then gave it a little curl at the ends with a fat curling
iron. I ironed my bangs straight, Bettie Page-style. Then I was extra careful
making my face up. I lined my blue eyes with black eyeliner to set them off and
used plenty of mascara, then softened them with a smoky gray eye shadow.
Lipstick tonight called for fire-engine-red. In order to act like a seductress,
I had to look like one. And the first person I had to convince was myself.

I looked in the mirror and smiled. For someone who’d been
sporting the drab dark colors of firefighting uniforms or schlepping around in
lounge pants and tank tops the rest of the week, I had made quite the
transformation from a regular girl next door to vixen.

Damn, I look hot!

I took a cab to Vamps and experienced the familiar urge to
bounce down the alley in anticipation for what lay ahead that night. I
practically threw open the big door at the entrance.

Byron smiled widely. “Maya, Maya, Maya. You’re back.”

“Hi, Byron. How’s it going?”

“Things have been—interesting,” he said. “Someone was asking
about you.”

My heart beat faster and I tried to control my excitement.
After all, it could be some random guy.

I tried for nonchalance. “Oh really, who might that be?”

He cocked his head. “Come on, Maya. Don’t play coy.”

“I don’t know what on earth you mean, Byron.” I opened my
eyes wide for an innocent effect.

“Save it, sunshine. I’m gay, remember? Womanly wiles don’t
have any effect on me.”

My wide-eyed look immediately was replaced by a pout,
without me even realizing what I was doing.

“What’s up with you and Mr. Stone anyway?”Byron asked.

Oh goodie, it was him! He asked about me!
I mentally
jumped in the air clicking my heels like some kind of leprechaun. Then said,
“Nothing. Why do you ask?”

“Mr. Stone is one of the most introverted people I’ve ever
met. He stays down in his office or whatever he has downstairs and just sweeps
through the club like a bat out of hell to make sure everything’s going okay.
Don’t tell him, but that’s what the staff calls him behind his back.”

“Bat out of hell?”

“Yes. He scared the crap out of one of the bar help one day,
who was replenishing the bottles behind the bar. Mr. Stone came up to check on
things and he was wearing his usual black. He flew through the club and then he
disappeared downstairs. That’s how he usually acts. He does not talk to women
and he does not take their hands to give them private tours of the club, like
he did with you.”

“Uh, um, oh,” I stammered. “Maybe he was just being polite
because you knew me.”

“Maya, please. Why would the owner of a club care who the
bouncer is friendly with?”

“Um.” Good point. I had nothing.

“Exactly.” He nodded as if thinking to himself. “He wants me
to tell him when you return. You okay with that?”

Okay with that?
I was hoping that he’d at least
remember me. The fact that he asked about me and had given me special treatment
made me want to spin some Olympic gymnastic flips off the rafters.

“Yeah, sure,” I said with a wave of my hand, trying to play
it cool. Then I killed that objective with my next line. “Byron, how do I look?
Be honest.”

Byron looked me over and a grin spread across his face
again. “You look smashing. A total fox. If I was straight, I’d be all over
you.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I’m going to get a drink. For some
reason, I’m kind of nervous.”

“You—nervous? First time for everything, I suppose,” he
said, shaking his head incredulously. “Go on in. I’ll wait a little while
before I tell him.”

I went to the bar and checked out the drink list again. When
I saw a Hotter Than Hell Bloody Mary, I smiled, remembering when Tristan
suggested it. But there were so many new mouthwatering choices on the menu.
What would I have next? I’m the type of girl who tries everything, not one who
orders the same thing every time she goes to a restaurant.

“I’ll have an Anything Goes,” I told the sexy bartender.

Time to brace myself for anything that could happen.

A few songs later, Tristan hadn’t appeared and I had almost
finished my drink. Patience wasn’t my strong suit, especially when it came to
waiting for a guy.

Okay, maybe Byron got caught up at the door and didn’t have
a chance to tell him yet. Or maybe Tristan was caught up in something and
wasn’t going to stop everything and jump just because I walked into his club.
Or maybe his interest had waned and he wasn’t going to come up. The more I
waited, the more impatient I grew.

Fuck it
, I thought. I’m not going to wonder. I refuse
to be that kind of girl. The kind who sits around making excuses waiting for
some guy to show up. Vamps was my place to let loose and unwind from work, not
get caught up in some romantic drama. Look at the toll this pining had taken on
my psyche over the past couple of weeks. And for what? Nothing. Nothing but
expectation, which did not look as if it was going to be met tonight.

Time to reclaim why I started to come here to begin with. To
dance, to be free, to let the real me come out.

I walked out onto the dance floor and found a nook in the
crowd that I made my own. It didn’t take me long to get into the music. Forcing
thoughts of Tristan aside, I lost myself into Billy Idol’s
Flesh for Fantasy
mixed into some industrial track of a woman singing about her own
fantasies. Then I made up for the last few months by dancing with wild abandon.

Tristan

When Byron called me to tell me that Maya was here, a part
of me froze. I’d been waiting for her to return for days. But now that she was
back, I wondered what the hell I was going to do next.

I hadn’t thought that far ahead.

Now I couldn’t really go up to her and ask her probing
questions about herself without setting off some red flags. Nor could I tell
her about my abilities without her thinking I was some freak before she ran out
the club never to turn back.

And I definitely couldn’t tell her those other things I’d
been thinking.

Screw it. Maybe that light was just a freak thing, someone
might have slipped something into my drink. Maybe I’d go upstairs and she’d
appear to me just like everyone else and whatever spell she’d cast on me would
be broken.

Only one way to find out for sure.

I steeled myself and walked upstairs. Byron said she was at
the bar. I walked up and down the bar, but didn’t see her.

Had she already left?

I walked along the perimeter of the dance floor, seeing the
sea of dancers mostly dressed in black as well as the visible darkness that
surrounded them. The darkness moved so fast it looked fluid, like liquid
shadows flowing around them.

And then I saw the light.

Maya dancing amid the darkness, her white light
unmistakable, proving that last time was not a drug-induced vision or a
hallucination. I looked around and saw that the darkness had disappeared,
whether it was gone or I just couldn’t see it anymore. People looked like
people.

I watched her moving freely to the music, as if without a
care as to what anyone around her thought. She faced away from me, but I knew
it was her from the glow. She was wearing a black dress laced up the back with
red. Wider openings in the top led to more narrow ones near the bottom as the
fastenings cinched down near her waist and over her ass.

Seeing bits of her skin peek through the fastenings teased
me. When my eyes travelled over the portion covering her ass, I grew excited
visualizing untying the red laces. Very sexy.

The song
Paralyzer
came on and she turned my way.
When she danced, she moved as if one with the music. She raised her hands to
the air while swaying her hips seductively, yet at the same time, not knowing
the effect she had on her audience.

Which consisted of me. Utterly entranced.

Her free spirit was infectious. And her seductive moves were
intoxicating. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Her face, those eyes, her curves
in that dress, those long, long legs. I wanted to drink all of her in.

Surprising myself, I moved through the crowd toward her. Her
back was toward me and I placed my hand on her shoulder, whispering, “Hello,
Maya,” into her ear.

She froze. Turned back to look at me. When I looked into
those sapphire eyes, which shined like gems reflecting her light, it was my
turn to freeze.

Paralyzed.

Although I’d always thought the song was hot, I also thought
it was a little cheesy—falling for someone in a nightclub? Come on. But now I
felt the song as if it was written for this moment, for me and Maya. Who cared
that maybe dozens of other people felt the same way about a partner they
desired right now? For me, it was for Maya and me alone.

Recovering from the momentary stillness, I began to dance
with her, something I rarely did, but something about the way Maya did it made
it seem enjoyable. No, more than enjoyable. Essential to the joy in life. Her
mouth dropped halfway when I began moving with her, but after about two beats,
she joined in.

While we danced, our eyes remained locked. I became lost
just gazing into those brilliant eyes. Spellbound. What was it about her that
entranced me so?

Her brightness had faded to a pleasant glow, like a soft
reading light. I remained fixated upon her, not even wanting or daring to look
at anyone around us.

My desire for her overwhelmed rational thought at this
point. I reached one hand around her lower back and pulled her closer to me. I
whispered into her ear, “I’ve been thinking about you.”

Her eyes fluttered and closed briefly in such an erotic
gesture that I felt myself grow hard. When she reopened them, she asked, “You
have?”

I nodded. “Often.” Then I grinned at a private joke. “You
must have bewitched me.”

“I’m no witch,” she said, smiling back so brightly that her
eyes twinkled. “Just a working girl who likes to dance.”

“You do it so well.”

“Thank you. Kudos to the DJ,” she said, nodding in his
direction.

Our bodies quickly synced as they swayed as one to the
music. We didn’t speak as we danced, our eyes locked. I saw the want as her
eyes darkened, a look that was surely reflected in my own. It was simply the
most erotic dance of my life.

Maya leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “I have a
confession. I’ve been thinking about you too.”

Surprised, I said, “Have you now?” When she nodded, I said.
“All good things, I hope.”

She looked down before looking back up with a mischievous
look. “All good. And maybe a little bad. Or just naughty.”

Good God, did she know the effect those words just had on
me?

She wrapped her arms around my neck, entwining them around
me like a gorgeous serpent. Just the feel of her arms around me was enough to
make me want to moan.

“A naughty girl. Just what I like. And one who can dance as
sexy as you.”

“I dance sexy?” she asked, a confused look taking over the
naughty glint.

“Almost too much for a red-blooded man to bear,” I said.

While we danced with our eyes still locked, I was painfully
aware of my growing erection just centimeters away from her luscious body. How
I wanted to press myself against her, into her. People around us be damned. I
wanted to throw her onto the floor and take her then and there.

No. I wanted to take my time with her. Take her down to my
lab, explore every inch of her body.

I glanced down at her body, which was a mistake. Her breasts
were pushed up against the lace bodice and at my angle, I could see them at a
great advantage. A deep groan escaped involuntarily from my lips. Luckily, it
was drowned out by the song.

My eyes moved back up to her face. She was wearing such
spiked heels that her face was mere inches away from mine. And her lips. She
had painted them a sensual red. Now I couldn’t take my eyes off her lips.

Then she licked them. Whether intentional or not, I don’t
know.