Flash and Micro Fiction, Him

Him Part Thirteen

We ran through the maze in Paris’s alleyways so fast, I couldn’t tell where we were or where we were going. But Michael didn’t hesitate.

He was weaving in and out of alleys, side streets, and a bustling art market that I wanted to visit before my impromptu vacation was over. Thinking back, it was probably a bad idea to hire a male escort to role play as a vampire and take my virginity, but I didn’t regret my decision.

Even though I paid for a fantasy that was now my reality, I wanted to be in that suite, having the time of my life with Michael — vampire or not. We barely made it to second base.

I sighed in frustration and gave up my futile attempt at figuring out where we were as the last of the day’s light faded from the orange sky.

But then Michael stopped and lowered me to the ground, steadying me on my feet and releasing me before I was ready.

The sudden movement left me dizzy and I closed my eyes, catching Michael’s strong arms to keep myself from falling over.

I froze.

Damn, he feels divine.

Taking my time, I opened my eyes and let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Then I forced my hands to release their grip on him.

The vampire grinned, showing twin, needle sharp fangs, and then his blue eyes flashed against the light above the door before he opened it, leading into a very inconspicuous building made of red brick.

Ushering me inside, I caught the scent of fresh bread, coffee, and that brown sugar I knew belonged to him. My mouth started to water. But not because I was hungry.

Not for food.

“We should be safe here,” Michael said, closing the solid metal door behind him. Then he secured the locks. But I wasn’t paying attention.

My focus was on the interior of the building. It looked like it was once a warehouse or perhaps a firehouse, with the high ceilings, large windows, exposed brick and piping. And the fact that there were hardly any interior walls.

In the back corner, where morning sunbeams would shoot streams of light onto the floor, there was a painting station, complete with an easel and more paint brushes and paints than I could count.

It was amazing.

“Do you like it?” Michael’s voice was low, almost a whisper and I felt my hair move at the back of my head from his cool breath, letting me know he was right behind me.

Words escaped me and all I could do was nod. I was having enough trouble staying on my feet as it was from his close proximity.

Then he said, low, “Now, where were we?”

Before the shivers could travel down my body, I felt his cool breath on the side of my neck.

© Sarah Doughty

This is part 13 of Him. Read part 1part 2, part 3part 4part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, and part 12.
Want to read the whole thing in one place? Click here.
Stay tuned for more.

This was also published at UInk.ca.

17 thoughts on “Him Part Thirteen”

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