I reviewed the video surveillance on Friday evening upon rising anxious to see her reaction to getting her dream car, but it wasn’t at all what I expected. She oozed hostility from the moment her eyes had landed on her new car, but I couldn’t fathom why.
Was it the wrong color?
Did she think she’d have to wait until Monday in order to drive it?
It didn’t make sense, but after seeing her reaction to her new suite – the bouncing she’d done in the elevator was cum worthy – I didn’t think I would have to wait until Monday in order to find out. I planned on running into her at some point over the weekend, but I couldn’t because she wasn’t there. She’d taken her rust box and returned to her dormitory where she remained and it only served to frustrate me even more.
Just like the woman glaring at her dream car on my monitor.
I’d assumed she would move in right away. Using the limited knowledge I had of her likes – as I’d previously noted, the woman lived like a pauper and didn’t spend her money frivolously – I filled her suite with her drug of choice. Bookcases were constructed just for her and were filled with first editions that would make any English scholar weep. Her reaction to those had been gratifying, with her staring at them looking as though Saint Nicholas himself had come and made amends for his previous twenty-two year absence, before she flew out the door. I assumed to move in.
My assumption only made me feel like an ass while she continued to frustrate me just as she had from the moment she’d first left my office. My no feeding and fucking rules had flown out the window like she’d flown out of my casino. And it was undeniable now. The evidence of my new obsession was overwhelming.
I was guilty and there were no appeals.
Exhibit A – Upon rising Wednesday evening I’d sought out Callaghan to ascertain the whereabouts of Mott. Either the sight of my fangs in his face was a scarier proposition to contend with or he held no loyalty to Mott. It turned out both assessments were true and he quickly gave up that as of late Mott had been spending time in Jackson.
I broke his jaw as a reminder of what would happen if he gave up information about me so easily which brings us to Exhibit B.
Instead of making my presence known to those in my territory – whom had seen neither hide nor hair of me in the previous eleven days – I took off for Jackson Mississippi, calling on Russell Edgington in his mansion of ill-repute. The gray haired Mott was not his type, but being Louisiana’s hottest catch had its benefits. He liked my look. I didn’t mind being looked at. That along with our mutual contentment with the current boundaries of our territories made us easy allies. I had Mott’s location within moments of my arrival and finding him with his new pet on the dance floor of Russell’s bar saved his undead life.
Not that I had rights to dictate his hunting any longer, but I would’ve killed him just the same for causing my…Miss Stackhouse pain in any way and surely she would’ve been pained if her friend had been killed. He’d been told to return her to her home immediately and then glamour her to contact Miss Stackhouse the following day. I also let it be known his continued survival depended upon hers and then followed them to Bon Temps to be sure he would comply. He did.
And since I was already in town…
Exhibit C – The farmhouse had seen better days, but nothing had ever eased the tension in my body as did the scent of my new assistant wafting from her open bedroom window. I would chastise her for her complete disregard for her own personal safety if I could admit to being there at all. Or perhaps I would not because it was that small open window that gave me a glimpse into her head when in the middle of night, slithering through her sheets with a sheen of sweat pouring off her body and making her scent all the more appetizing, I heard it.
My head snapped up – as did my cock – and after reassuring myself she was indeed still asleep, a quick mental run through of all of her known associations concluded that yes, I was the only Eric in her life.
She was dreaming of me and with the way she’d moaned out my name, I could only come to one conclusion as to what my dream self was doing to her.
My responding growl was unintentional and had woken her. Also unintentional was when she saw me hovering outside of her bedroom window like the peeping Tom I was. Before she could finish rubbing the sleep from her eyes, I flew off and went to ground for the day, wondering if I’d ever be able to bury my own preoccupation with the sweet smelling blond like I’d managed to bury myself in the ground.
Exhibit D – Her ancestral home had been in her family for one hundred and fifty years. Moving her family to my territory would not be an option since I doubted they only remained in the home out of necessity. Her ostentatious choice in automobiles aside, I had no doubt her roots remained firmly planted in that Renard Parish shithole and would remain that way until the Stackhouse family line had come to an end. I had no choice.
I could blame her for forcing my hand.
There were no vampires in that area – that I knew of anyway – but I did know Peter Threadgill had slowly been inching his way south of his Little Rock stronghold. He was still miles away from reaching Bon Temps, but if he were to learn of my new attachment to the area, he would move on it quickly.
The upper hand – we all wanted it.
Upon rising the next night, I first checked to make sure she had been notified of her friend’s reappearance. She had via text messages.
S – “Hey Tara, it’s me. Call me or else I’m putting that picture of your drunk ass passed out next to the pile of dog shit in JB’s backyard on a milk carton.”
Twenty minutes later…
T – “You do that Stackhouse and I’ll make sure the picture of The Great Titty Escape from Spring Break makes its way onto the next milk carton. Why you thought those two pieces of gauze held together by dental floss would hold those puppies in, I’ll never know.”
I made a note to glamour the girl myself to obtain that picture.
So much to do, so little time.
I took off for Little Rock. Threadgill would’ve shit himself if he could at the sight of me walk into nightclub. In his office, I verbalized my newly expanded claim on all of Louisiana. He expressed his disagreement, having already moved into the most northern areas. I showed him the error of his ways.
Or rather, I held up his newly severed head and showed it to his second, Jennifer Cater, along with giving her my reassurance I wanted no part of Arkansas and she could retain possession of it. She agreed to see things my way, if only to continue to be able to see things with her head still attached to her shoulders.
I emailed Russell and Stanislaus as well, not expecting any friction on their behalf and I was correct when they each emailed me back with similar sentiments.
Stanislaus – Congratulations?
Russell – Darling, if you wanted to get a little dirty, you could have stayed in Jackson instead of claiming a bunch of swamp land.
Exhibit E – Instead of returning to New Orleans, my flight took me straight back to the cause for my newly expanded territory. In one night I’d doubled my claim, obtaining the entire state for the sole purpose of keeping her safe no matter where she hung her hat and as I watched her sleep for the second night in a row, I did something I had never done. Ever.
I shopped for my personal assistant.
Cars didn’t count, although her new car – which had been delivered to the casino that evening – I put more thought into than any of the others, but instead I shopped for things for her.
Things which any proper employer had no business shopping for. For their personal assistant, at least.
Cocktail dresses. Evening gowns. Casual attire. Business attire. They would arrive by the truckload over the following days. I told myself they could be considered her uniforms to appease my inner pussy whipped-ness and continued to fill my virtual shopping cart.
I would be even more appeased if I could fill her pussy instead.
The verdict was officially in – Exhibits A thru E could only come to one conclusion.
I was an infatuated – by all appearances, enthusiastically so – exhibitionist when it came to her. In more ways than one.
But even that massively growing desire I had for her wasn’t why I was doing all that I did. Something about the way she carried herself – secure in her own skin despite not having much more in material things than her own skin to show for herself. I…
I realized with astonishment I admired her.
It was a feeling that came to me less often than the appearance of Halley’s Comet.
She reminded me of myself in a way. In this undead life I’d had no one to rely on and had to forge my own way. I had to learn to survive on my own, so unlike many others of my kind who had a Maker at their side when they rose vampire for the first time. I taught myself to hunt. I taught myself restraint. I built my own fortune from nothing and then protected it from any and all who threatened me and mine. From what I could gather of her history, her grandmother had worked several jobs in order to make ends meet, so Sookie too would’ve had to learn many things on her own. She would’ve had to dedicate herself to her studies with no one to look over her shoulder, having nothing more than the desire to better herself as motivation. She had to keep herself on the straight and narrow and out of trouble, not giving in to the temptation of her friends’ and classmates’ youthful folly.
It was admirable and she deserved a reward for her actions.
And I felt I deserved one as well, which was currently hidden inside of the garment bag draped over my couch.
My cock twitched in anticipation.
“What…what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” she asked after taking in a shaky inhale.
Nothing except that it covers the answers to the secrets that can only be found underneath.
She was wearing a sapphire blue dress and it made me jealous in the way it wrapped around her body like a lover’s embrace. It – like her – was beautiful and perfectly acceptable attire for my establishment and her station as my assistant.
However it wouldn’t do at all for what I had planned later on.
“Nothing at all – normally,” I told her truthfully. “What you’re wearing is fine for when you’re seeing to your duties as my representative, however this evening we’ll be on display for the general public. They come here expecting a certain…ambiance…and as an extension of me, your appearance should complement my own.”
Regrettably she took a step back, distancing herself from me, and thereby robbing me of the heat which naturally emanated from her body. It had been five days. Five days of torment, with her body so close and yet just out of my reach.
I struggled to remain still instead of snatching her body and plastering it against mine.
Doe-like eyes – full of fire and incredulity – stared back at me as she asked, “You expect us to be…matchy matchy?” I smirked at her turn of phrase and an inelegant snort left her soft full lips at my nod as she added, “You’re not due to have any business in Hawaii any time soon, are you? I think matching luau shirts would be a bit much.”
I added the destination to my quickly growing list of things to do if only so I’d get to see her in a bikini.
One made of gauze and held together by dental floss, if I was lucky.
A single eyebrow rose up – much like my cock at the thought – as I returned her smirk and asked, “Is that your way of telling me you want a lei? I assure you Miss Stackhouse, you have only to ask and you shall receive.”
I hoped it was, as well as hoping she didn’t mean a lei of the flower variety. I knew I was pushing the boundaries of labor laws and such. Sexual harassment lawsuits were all the rage these days, but finding out what her reaction would be was worth the risk.
And worth the possibility of having to glamour her to forget it.
I watched her swallow the moisture pooling in her mouth while I scented the moisture pooling in between her other set of lips, but her face remained locked up before she unexpectedly laughed out loud. A long high pitched whistle soon followed and she ended it with a, “BOOM!” Seeing my confused, if not still amused, expression she offered, “You can’t even bring yourself to call me by my first name yet and I don’t have the proper training to deal with that poorly hidden ISD.”
“ISD?” I asked aloud, not placing the acronym.
She nodded, still laughing, and replied, “Improvised Sexplosive Device. I can’t possibly begin to even try navigating that double entendre landmine. Is there a bathroom around here or should I go back to my suite and change.”
Forget changing. I wanted to make boom booms of another variety.
Doubting that was an option – yet – I volleyed in return, “You could change here if you’d like…Sookie,” and took a seat on the couch to let her know I’d be more than happy to watch.
She snorted again and grabbed the garment bag, saying, “My suite it is then…Mr. Northman,” but before she could get far I unnecessarily cleared my throat to regain her attention.
Pointing at the door to our right, I said, “You can change in there.”
She stared back at me suspiciously before finally entering the adjacent bathroom and I couldn’t hide my grin when I heard her yell out, “You have got to be kidding me!”
She opened the door seconds later with only her head poking through, but before she could continue her tirade, I smiled back with, “I assure you, I am not.”
If glares could kill, I’d be dead – again.
I knew it wouldn’t be to her liking, just as I knew most everything else I’d ordered would be, but I wanted to see her in something dangerous. Forbidden. I had a feeling she had a darker side and wanted to get a glimpse of it.
And then I wanted to get a glimpse of what was underneath it.
“Always.” Despite what she may have surmised from my now permanent grin.
Yes, making her angry definitely had its merits.
“Time’s a wasting, Miss Stackhouse,” I reminded her when she hadn’t broken our silent stare-off.
Her eyes narrowed and a scowl came across her face right before she slammed the door, but with my supernatural hearing I was able to hear her clearly as she muttered under her breath, “Fat chance you have of getting any kind of lay now…Eric.”
And I wouldn’t hesitate to bet the house she was wrong.