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Lights, Camera…Monsters Page 2
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“What are you going to do if she wants to have sex?” Michael posed the question on all of their minds.
“Do you think she does?” Luke asked.
Henry shrugged and Michael fished around for a copy of Maxim. “She asked you on a date, that usually means sex.”
Luke’s stomach knotted with anxiety. “I’ve never had sex with a human woman before. What do I do?”
“Don’t look at me, I’ve never had sex with a human either, though she shouldn’t be that different from a succubus, they’re all cut from the same cloth,” Henry added.
“Yeah, but there’s thousands of years of evolution in between.” Luke looked anxiously to Michael, who was ripping sex-tip articles out of magazines.
“Here,” Michael shoved a handful of articles at Luke, “read these on the way.”
The top article was titled: “Make Friends with the Little Man in the Boat”.
“Thanks, Michael.” Folding the papers, Luke stuffed them into his pocket, nodded to Henry, and headed out the door. He had a half-hour walk before he reached a road with a payphone where a cab could pick him up. One of the problems with squatting in an abandoned warehouse in the Port of L.A. was the lack of easy transportation. He kept the pace light, having discovered that human bodies sweat, and it was not considered attractive. After all of his careful work obtaining this outfit, the last thing he wanted to do was ruin it.
The crunch of papers in his pocket as he walked brought Luke’s mind around to the possibility of what could happen tonight. Lena. He tested the name out, liking the way it rolled over his tongue.
Thinking back on the meeting, Luke admitted he liked everything about Lena. Her hair was a pretty, soft brown. It had been pushed back behind her shoulders, so the sides framed her face. Soft lips, tinted pink, a straight nose and sky blue eyes completed her face. There was something about the set of her mouth, as if she were constantly flirting with a smile.
He’d had only a brief glimpse of her body when she rose at the end of the meeting. She was slender, a long cool line from shoulder to hip. The dark-colored skirt and fitted off-the-shoulder sweater set off her creamy, pale skin and exposed delicate collarbones. He mentally stripped away the clothes, imagining her soft white flesh exposed and vulnerable, waiting for him. Luke closed his eyes for a moment as desire danced through his bloodstream. It had been too long since he touched a female, and touching Lena would be more than touching just any female. She would be his first human.
Ducking through a hole in the fence, Luke started down the access road to the payphone.
An hour later Luke slipped into a booth across from Lena. It was eight fifteen, and he was late.
“Lena, I’m sorry, there was traffic.”
“That’s no problem, I’m glad you were able to make it.” Lena raised a glass of pale gold liquid to her lips. She’d smiled when he sat down, but the smile did not reach her eyes. If he had to guess, Luke would say she was mad.
The waiter popped up next to his elbow, and Luke ordered tequila on the rocks. The waiter moved away, and Luke turned to see Lena’s raised eyebrows.
“Tequila?” she asked.
Luke had no idea what was wrong with ordering tequila. The other places he’d eaten had been fine with that.
“Is tequila a…poor choice?” Flustered and anxious, Luke nervously smoothed the front of his shirt. His bangs had fallen into his eye, so Luke scooped them to the side, hoping his hair still looked like the picture he’d modeled it after.
His anxious fussing seemed to amuse Lena, and she smiled, though it was a soft thing, without malice. “Tequila is a fine choice. So where were you coming from that you got stuck in traffic?”
“Uh, near the port.”
“The Port of L.A.? That is quite a drive, I’m sorry, if you’d told me I could have picked someplace closer to you.”
“Oh no, this is fine. I’ve never been here, and I like trying new restaurants.”
“Me too. I’m such a foodie. Where have you tried lately?”
Luke looked around the maroon and brown interior of Lawry’s, each table set with linen and silver. No place he’d tried was anything like this. Most restaurant ventures started and ended with recommendations from cabbies.
“Well, uh, nothing quite this fancy, but there was this taco place, in the valley…”
“Hugo’s?”
“Oh, uh, yeah.”
“I love Hugo’s. What combination did you try?”
Luke stared at Lena, wondering if she were laughing at him, but her interest and excitement seemed genuine. It was hard to imagine the brunette beauty, who looked edible in dark blue, hair loose in soft waves over her shoulders, standing outside the small taco hut, munching on a burrito as juice dripped down her chin.
Luke tentatively relayed his menu choices, and Lena offered him a few suggestions. The conversation continued, and quickly focused on hole-in-the-wall cheap food. Luke’s puzzlement was soon replaced by delight as Lena revealed that she was just as willing to eat at the cheap places as the expensive ones. The few other people he’d met who worked in movies, or “the industry” as they all called it, had only talked about whom they’d seen at the latest posh restaurants.
They covered Mexican and pizza, Chinese and Korean BBQ. Without thinking, Luke admitted that he’d never had three a.m. delivery of Thai food, as no Thai place would deliver to them. Lena blinked and sat back in her chair, apparently baffled by the idea of a locale outside Thai delivery. Luke held his breath, wondering if she would press him for details about where he lived, but Lena finally muttered, “Well, I guess you are in South Bay,” and the moment passed.
Their salads arrived, and Luke carefully stabbed a forkful and brought it to his mouth. There was some shredded red thing amid the candied nuts and tangy cheese that tasted foul, but he kept chewing. Lena was carefully pushing the red stuff off to the side. When she noticed he was watching, she smiled ruefully.
“I know, I know, I’m a complete philistine, but I hate beets.”
Luke looked down at his own bowl and started pushing his off to the side. Beets. He made a mental note to avoid those in the future. “I don’t like them either, but I didn’t know if it would be appropriate to remove them.”
“I promise not to tell on you, if you don’t tell on me. It’ll be our secret.” Lena smiled again, and this time there was something else in the smile, something a bit naughty, as if the word “secret” implied things he couldn’t even guess at.
They made it through salads and the start of entrees before the conversation turned to business matters.
“So, Luke, can you tell me a little bit about what you’re looking for?”
Laying his knife on the side of his plate Luke looked up, taking several deep-bracing breaths. This was it, his chance to make right what he’d done wrong this morning.
“We have a story to tell, and we think the best way to do it is through movies or a TV show.”
“Why do you think that?”
“We want to change public opinion about…something, and movies and media seem to have the most influence over how hum…um, people think about things.”
“What does this have to do with you and your friends?” Lena asked.
“We want to change the public’s opinion about us, about the three of us.”
“Ah, the three of you are…together.”
“Yes we’re together.” They’d left everything they knew behind to enter the human world.
Lena sat back in her chair and laughed a little. Luke was struck by the feeling that he’d just done something wrong.
“Lena?”
“Sorry, I guess my radar must be off. So tell me more about Michael and Henry, how did you get together?”
“We were raised together, like brothers.”
“Ah, that certainly makes the relationship more complicated, how did your families handle it?”
How did she know their fathers were angry with them? Luke narrowed his eyes, looking a
t her with his second sight—vision that could reveal what was beneath the surface. There was a band of gold intelligence around her forehead, pulsing blue strength of spirit over her heart, but she was undeniably human.
If she was human, where was she getting these odd questions? Luke reviewed his conversation with her, and in a snap, realized what he’d said. He may not have a good understanding of humans, but there were some things you picked up after living in L.A.
“Wait, wait, I’m not gay.”
Lena slumped in her seat, looking relieved. “Oh thank God, I thought my gaydar was on the fritz, thought I should know better. The good looking ones are never batting for my team.”
He didn’t really know what she was talking about, but Luke hurried on. “I’m not gay, and neither are Michael or Henry, we’re just friends.”
Lena cocked her head to the side. “If the story you want to tell isn’t about your three-way relationship, what is it about?”
Luke certainly wasn’t going to tell her here, in fact, the plan was to avoid telling her the full truth for as long as possible. “It’s about us, about what we are.”
“And what are you?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Lena reached across the table and grabbed his wrist, two fingers settling on the soft inside. “You have a pulse, so you aren’t A.I. Enhanced military super solider?” she guessed.
“No.” Luke was distracted by her fingers on his wrist. They were soft, with white and pink nails, her skin delectably pale against the dark tint of his human flesh. She started to pull her hand away, but Luke wrapped his fingers around hers, holding her in place. They both looked at their tangled hands, and in an instant, the atmosphere at the table changed.
Luke imagined how they would look pressed against one another. The dichotomy of skin tones on the grand scale of their full naked bodies. Lena’s fingers curled into his, stroking the hollow of his palm, and Luke swallowed. Please let that be the opening strains of human mating rituals.
“I think I know a way to solve our problem.” Lena’s voice was butter smooth and velvet soft. He raised his gaze from their locked hands to her face. Blue eyes peeked at him under dark lashes.
“We have a problem?”
“I think we do. You want me to agree to make a movie about what you are, but won’t tell me precisely what that might be.” Lena slid her fingers from his, then reached up and ran her index finger from the tip of his eyebrow, down over his cheekbone, to the corner of his mouth. “So it looks like I’ll have to find out all on my own.”
She sat back and signaled the waiter for the check.
Chapter Three
“Undress me.”
The only light was mixed with pale whites and blues that filtered in from the street, silhouetting Lena. Luke stood just inside the doorway, jacket dangling from his fingertips.
Arousal, like the sweetest champagne, bubbled through Lena. After leaving the restaurant she’d driven them back to her place, the short drive made in rich silence. Dinner had confirmed Lena’s impression that Luke was a Hollywood novice. The hints of vulnerability and sweet confusion were incredibly attractive after years of dealing with super alpha-man attitudes. He moved into the living room, steps slow and deliberate and Lena hoped his hands would be the same way on her body. Knowing this was likely nothing more than a one night stand, Lena intended to enjoy it.
“You want me to undress you?” His voice held a low note, like the growl of a wolf, that both tantalized and frightened.
“Yesss.” The “s” dragged out into a long hiss as he cupped her neck and jaw in one large hand.
“I’ve been thinking about you, naked,” he whispered, lips brushing her cheekbone.
“Did you like what you saw?” she asked, voice thin and reedy as she tipped her head back, extending the line of her throat.
“Oh yes.”
“Then undress me.”
“In time. I want to…” Luke skirted his lips along her cheek, grazing the corner of her mouth, but not kissing her, “savor this.”
Lena shuddered and melted into him, leaning forward into his body. One arm came around her back, his other hand trailing up and down her side, petting the fabric of her dress.
“Yes, yes, me too. But it’s been so long, I don’t know if I can hold out.” Lena admitted. She needed to have him hot and hard inside her, pulsing through her.
“How long?” he asked.
“Months,” she confessed.
“Longer for me, and,” he held her away from his body, “I’ve never been with someone like you.”
“Like me?”
“Yes, so you must tell me what you want.”
Lena didn’t know what he meant by “someone like you” but she had no problem telling him what she thought and wanted. She’d long ago stopped depending on guys to care if she had a good time, and learned to be the aggressor in bed, that way she had at least some hope of getting an orgasm.
“I can do that, but you have to do the same, tell me what you want, what you like.”
“What I want,” he pressed an open lip kiss to her cheek, then dragged his lips across her cheek to kiss the corner of her mouth, his tongue coming out to lick at the seam of her lips, “is to please you.”
Mystery solved. Luke had to be a figment of her imagination, because no man she’d ever met had put her pleasure above their own. His tender, thoughtful words, combined with the delicate, erotic attention of his lips and tongue, did more to spike her arousal than a box full of sex toys.
“Please,” she whispered, and his fingers moved to her back.
He traced the skin along the top of her dress—played up and down the dip of her spine from the nape of her neck to the clasp of her dress. He tugged at the clasp, thumbs sliding between the dress and her skin. After half a minute of fumbling, Lena nearly turned around to let him see what he was doing. There was a brief flare of heat at her back, as if a small patch of her back had been exposed to an open oven, then the dress came undone. Her puzzlement at the sensation of heat disappeared under the feel of his fingers rubbing up and down her spine as he lowered the zipper.
Lena raised her hands to his shirt, indulging herself by rubbing his chest through the silk-cotton blend. He was rock hard and hot to the touch, and this was just his chest. One by one Lena undid his buttons, her own dress defying gravity to stay up, as his roaming hands pushed it apart in their quest to stroke every inch of her back.
She tugged the shirt loose from his pants and pushed it open. She was pressed too tightly to him for her to see anything, so she explored his chest with her fingers, nearly whimpering when she felt the hard ridges of his stomach.
Luke’s lips played up and down the column of her throat, then flicked her earring with his tongue. Lena slid her hands up his chest, over his shoulders and up his throat, to cup his cheeks. She pulled him away from her neck, held him still and kissed him.
Luke stiffened against her, then kissed her back, tongue moving over hers, their mouths opening and closing against one another as the kiss continued. He breathed in her breath, and each of Lena’s inhalations was flavored with the smell of Luke: spice, earth and man.
Sliding her hands from his cheeks to shoulders, Lena urged Luke back, until his legs hit the seat of one of her overlarge armchairs. Luke let go of her to feel the air behind him, and Lena took advantage of his movement to push him down onto the chair. Luke let out a small puff of air as he landed, head tilted up to look at Lena, who, holding the front of her dress in place with one hand, took a step back.
She watched him watch her, and when she lowered the dress, sliding it inch by inch down her body, Luke’s white-fisted reaction made her feel like a goddess. She stepped out of her dress, now wearing nothing more than strappy black heels and black hip-hugging underwear.
Luke leaned forward, cupping the back of her left calf and lifting her leg. Lena maintained her balance as Luke set her heel down on the arm of the chair and kissed his way
from ankle to knee. He freed her foot from its shoe with one hand, as the other braced her at the knee, his lips lingering up and down her shin.
Lena nearly collapsed when he pressed kisses to the top of her foot, but his hand tightened at her knee, steadying her before setting down one foot, and lifting the other to take its place. This leg received not only kisses, but a long warm swipe from his tongue.
“Luke,” she whispered, thoroughly seduced by his careful attention. Sex had never made her feel so powerful, so beautiful, as these brief moments of foreplay with him.
He lowered her leg and rose, settling his hands on her hips, fingers toying with her underwear. Lena pushed his shirt completely off his shoulders, letting it pool around his elbows, imprisoning his arms. Now that she was barefoot, he was half a head taller than her, and Lena leaned into his bare chest, exploring the feel of her breasts against his hard, hot flesh. His lips tenderly brushed her forehead, but Lena didn’t want tender, she wanted passion.
Fluttering her fingers down the luscious ripples of his abdomen, Lena unbuckled his belt and undid the button of his pants. She left the zipper up and stroked the soft skin of his belly behind his waistband. Luke shivered, pecs twitching, and Lena couldn’t wait to touch that same spot with her tongue.
She explored his cock through the front of his pants before lowering the zipper and pushing both pants and boxers down his hips. Resting her hands on his bare hips, thumbs flirting with the diagonal dent of muscle just above his hipbones, Lena lowered herself to her knees, dropping hot, open-mouthed kisses along his chest as she went. Kneeling before him, she examined his cock, which was more than adequate. Thick and uncircumcised, already fully erect, Luke’s handsome cock lived up to the promise of his beautiful face. Tugging his pants below his knees, Lena planted a hand on his belly and pushed, toppling him back onto the chair and pressing herself against his knees, her nipples abraded by the coarse hair on his legs.