Followed by Megan Slayer

“Hold still and they won’t eat you.”

I dragged a breath into my burning lungs and took in my surroundings. Three men stood around me, two with their backs to me and one at my feet. I took another breath and let it out slowly, then glanced down at my body.

Fuck me sideways, I was naked. Whatever they had me stretched out on, I had my arms spread open and my ankles in manacles. I didn’t bother to move my wrists. They probably had those in cuffs, too. I tipped my head to the man who had spoken to me.

“Hold very still. Pretend to be dead.” The guy closest to me loosened the cuff around my ankle. A lock of his blond hair fell in his eyes, and the muscle in his jaw worked overtime. He didn’t just release me from the bond, he caressed me.

“I don’t think this one is coming around,” he said. “He’s still pale.”

One of the other men turned around. I held my breath and stared into space. Yes, I was pale. Being stuck in a room for more than twelve hours a day hunched over a computer didn’t exactly give me a chance to catch many rays.

“Too bad. I didn’t want to drain this one. He’s cute. Was.”

“I’ll dispose of him.” Ankle Man patted my shin. “I’m getting good at hiding the evidence.”

Hiding the evidence? Of what? Wait. My stomach dropped to my toes. He said something about disposing. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That’s what I got for hanging out with people who could kill me. I started to remember a few details from the night before — well, I hoped it was the night before.

“What are we going to do? He’s one in a million.” Fuzzy memories filled my brain. I recognized one of the voices. Micah. He cuddled the other man in his arms. “We’ll need a new toy.”

I still wasn’t sure who the man at my feet was, but I remembered the name of the other man — Ivan. He and Micah came to my apartment on a monthly basis. Did they want another threesome or a foursome? I tried like hell to keep still. I didn’t want a sore ass.

“I’ll find you another young one like him.” Ivan slapped Micah’s jean-clad butt. “He was too old for me. I like ‘em closer to twenty-one.”

Liked them young? I was only twenty-four. Ancient by college standards, but still pretty damned young.

When the door closed, Ankle Man sighed. “I thought they’d never leave.” He rushed to the door and clicked the lock. “I’ll get you some pants. Shame, though.”

Shame? I sat up and rubbed my head. My brain ached. The room looked nothing like where I normally played with Ivan and Micah. “Where am I?”

“I’ll tell you once I get you out of here.” He turned his back on me. A sword tattoo decorated the skin between his shoulder blades.

Part of me wanted to touch him. Hell, it had been more than a year since I ventured into the dating scene and six months since my last romantic encounter. I liked sex, but not the emotions attached. I kept emotions out of the equation.

Something about this man was too decadent not to run my fingers over his skin. My cock twitched. Shit. I could deal with the hard-on, sure, but in front of Ankle Man? For all I knew, he wasn’t into dudes and might leave me there for the so-called draining the other two wanted to do to me. Ivan, Micah, and I played hard, but never with needles or blood.

Ankle Man stood, a pair of blue jeans in hand. “Wow.”

The tips of my ears burned and my tongue felt fifteen sizes too big. I placed my hands over my erection. Nothing but a long, hard fuck would get rid of it. I hated being a man-whore, directed by my dick.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“Why?” He trailed his fingers up my leg. “It’s impressive.” His lips parted and his eyelids drooped. “Damned impressive.”

“I doubt that.” I wasn’t extremely well endowed. I knew what to do with what I had, but come on. Seven inches wasn’t heaven. God knew the other two, Ivan and Micah, reminded me of that fact on a monthly basis.

Ankle Man clenched his teeth. “Pants. I brought you pants.”

Had I pissed him off? His Adam’s apple bobbed and he moaned. I scooted forward to take the pants and soaked in the vision of his features. Oval face, blond scruff on his cheeks enough to make him look rough around the edges, and his eyes… the darkest brown I’d ever seen. His teeth caught my attention. Not any old canines, these babies were fangs.

Oh, my God, I’d been abducted by vampires. I kept eye contact with him and took the pants. No wonder Ivan and Micah talked about draining me. Well, shit. I got myself fucked, trying to get laid.

“I’ll explain once you put your damned jeans on.” His eyes flashed silver.

I hadn’t read many paranormal books, but the color change in his eyes had to mean something, and it couldn’t be good. I stuffed my legs into the jeans and stood. I didn’t want to break eye contact with him, but if I didn’t watch what I did I’d catch my junk in my zipper and that would hurt like hell. I looked down long enough to zip up, then turned my attention back to Ankle Man.

“I’m going to throw you over my shoulder. Go limp, and don’t you dare make a sound.” He didn’t give me a chance to answer before he grabbed hold of me. I did my best to let my body go, but my cock had other ideas. Good thing my ass was on display. It shielded the obvious proof I wasn’t dead.

Ankle Man padded across the room and opened the door. I closed my eyes, figuring it was better not to see than to gaze around and give away my not-deadness.

“Dead?” The voice was familiar, but hell if I knew who spoke. I summoned all the courage I had, plus a little I didn’t have and did my best to remain limp.

“Drained him. Micah and Ivan got careless.” Ankle Man patted my bottom. “They’ve given me disposal duty again.”

My nerve endings sizzled. As much as I had no idea who this guy was, I liked having his hands on me.

I heard his voice in my head, but I don’t think he intended for me to.

It was like we had some sort of connection. Beats me how. I wanted to cling to him, whoever he was. I filed the incident away to ask him about later — if I had a later.

“They trust you, Mathieu. Move along.”

My captor’s name was Mathieu. Sexy. And he had nice hands. Score another one for me. I counted the steps between the destinations. Four hundred and sixty-seven. Something clicked twice. A door, maybe? I wanted to open my eyes, but refrained. Better to be safe than sorry.

“Clear.” Mathieu patted my butt again. “You can move around.”

I summoned my courage and opened my eyes. He placed me on a bed in the middle of a stainless steel room. “Nice decorating. Everything in here save for the linens is stainless steel. Boring.”

“Not my choice but it’s functional and non-lethal.” He stood opposite me and folded his arms. The muscle bunched and flexed as he got comfortable. He crossed his ankles. “As you’ve guessed, I’m Mathieu.”

“Lucas.” I wiped my hands on my legs and wished I had something to cover my erection. “You probably know my first question.”

“I’m a vampire. I can’t read your mind unless we’re mates, and I doubt we are, but I’m pretty good at guessing.” His eyes narrowed. “What do you want to know?”

A ripple of fear went through me. Maybe I wasn’t so attracted to him after all — or rather I was because I knew he could kill me. Screw me for liking danger. “Why you’re looking at me like I’m lunch.” Probably not the best thing to say to a vampire, but what I lacked in tact, I made up for in looks. “Do you need to drain me?”

“I’ve fed for the evening. You’re safe.” His expression remained stony.

“Then where in the hell am I?” I sighed and rested my elbows on my knees. “The last thing I remember was strolling out of my apartment building. I have no idea where I was headed.” No idea beyond meeting Micah and Ivan for our monthly fuck-fest.

“A party.” He dipped his head once. “The others in your building were having what I believe humans call a kegger.”

A kegger? No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t remember going anywhere with booze. Hell, I didn’t remember going anywhere besides to let Micah and Ivan have their way with me. I kept that info to myself. “Yeah? Was it a good party?”

“Seemed boring, and dressing up for it isn’t my idea of fun. I hate flip-flops.” Matheiu kicked out of the sandals, flipping one onto the floor with a thump. He crossed his ankles, then flexed his toes. I stared at his feet. I’m not much into feet, but when he moved, I had to look. He didn’t have gross man feet like I somehow expected. Like the rest of him, his toes were perfect. Did vampires get pedicures or were they born perfect? And why in the hell was I wondering about it?

“You went?” I tore my gaze from the bottom half of him and stared at his face. “No one noticed?” God, the man had beautiful features, too. Scruff on his cheeks enough to abrade a lover’s face, full lips made for kissing, and his eyes — I could get lost in those eyes. Would he play rough or did he make love with a tender touch?

“I’ve been following you for almost a month. I’m good at blending in. Have to be.”

Following me? I frowned. “That sounds creepy. I think I’d like to leave.” At least then I wouldn’t be staring at this impossibly sexy man and wondering how hard it would be to get him to fuck me. Not having meaningful sex for more than six months apparently made me lust after anyone.

He strode across the room and stopped between my knees. “You can’t.” Mathieu palmed my thigh. “You ask a lot of questions, but nothing to obtain clear information.”

He had me there. He also had my cock standing at attention and pressed tight against the zipper. “Okay, so I was leaving for a party and you’ve been following me. Why were you trailing me and why am I here?”

“Now you’re making sense.” He nodded once in a sharp motion. “This is Haven House.”

I closed my eyes to think. Haven House? I’d heard of the place. “That shack on the edge of town? That’s here?” I blurted. “I mean, why am I here?”

“Yes. Appearances aren’t always what they seem.”

No shit.