Kara
His fangs bit into my neck just as he slid himself inside me, stretching me and taking my virginity with one deep thrust.
I gasped, feeling every inch of Xavier pierce deep. I couldn’t decide which hurt the most - the tearing of my womanhood or the fangs puncturing the flesh of my neck. Or maybe neither hurt.
Closing my eyes, I fell into the darkness, letting the pleasure wash over me. I let Xavier consume me, all of me, and it felt so good to let myself go.
My alarm startled me awake. I sat up in bed, my heart pounding as I stared at the walls around me. “Where am I?” I briefly wondered, then it hit me.
I’m home.
My childhood home in New Orleans, of course, not the apartment in New York City that had been called my home for the last four years.
My room looked the same as it had all those years ago before I moved to the big city in search of bigger things. The walls were still pink, a color I now hated. The Pepto pink had been my mother’s choice when I was a little girl, and the color hadn’t changed over the years, even as I grew out of the pink tutus and bows she used to dress me in.
Reflexively, I reached for my neck. The dream had felt so real, I expected fang marks on me. Nothing, as usual, though the pinch of their entering had felt so real.
I’d been having these dreams since I’d returned home a week before. I hadn’t even seen Xavier yet, so there was no reason for me to believe he’d ever be interested in having sex with me. He hardly knew me. But God, did I know him. The dreams were no surprise since I’d always dreamt of him. But now they were much more vivid, and much more sexual.
I hit the alarm button on my phone, silencing it as I climbed from my bed. I had an interview that morning for my dream job, and as soon as I thought of it, I was wide awake and back in reality.
Today was the day I’d been working toward for the last several years. I’d sacrificed so much, worked my ass off, and finally, I had the chance to interview with Xavier at one of his most famous restaurants - La Myrtille.
Having the opportunity to work for him would kickstart the career of a lifetime - one that would give me the experience I needed to open my own restaurant one day.
With a pep in my step and a song in my heart, I showered, pushing the weird dream out of my head. After carefully drying it, I pulled my long, blonde hair back into a classy chignon, though a few soft tendrils fell free around my face. I pinned them back, wanting to appear as sharp as possible. I’d bought a brand-new suit for this interview, wanting to dress to impress. It was designer and cost a pretty penny, but my father had always told me to dress for the job you wanted, so I spent every last dime in my savings for it.
The navy-blue skirt fell just to my knees and hugged my figure, though not too suggestively. Adding a white button up blouse with a matching navy jacket, and I was almost ready to go. For a bit of flair, I tied a smart scarf around my neck, hopefully upping the sophistication quotient a bit more.
I stared at myself in the mirror and knew my daddy would have been proud of me. Tears welled in my eyes, and I had to carefully wipe at them so I didn’t smear my mascara. No time for tears, Kara, I chided myself. Dad wouldn’t want you to mess up your makeup right before the most important job interview of your life.
With a sigh, I grabbed my matching clutch along with a portfolio that contained a copy of my resume. I didn’t have much job experience on the resume just yet, but my education coupled with my internship in Paris should be more than enough to land this entry-level cooking job.
I checked the time and found I was running late. I rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen. My mother was sitting at the table with her daily cup of coffee and her crossword puzzle. My father should have been there with her, but his seat was sadly empty.
Good morning, pumpkin, he would have said if he was there. Instead, I was met with silence at first.
My mom looked up from her puzzle after a moment, her gaze a little lost. “Sorry, didn’t hear you come down. There’s some hot coffee if you want any.”
“No thanks, I don’t have time,” I muttered, rushing toward the door that led to the garage.
“Oh, that’s right, you have a job interview this morning.”
“Yeah, I do.” I was short with her. How could she forget? And it was more than just any old job interview too.
“Good luck, sweetie. I know you’ll do great.”
She returned to her puzzle, and I left without another word.
My heart felt empty, but it was a feeling I’d grown used to over the last year. I hadn’t felt whole since I got the news of my father’s disappearance and presumed death. I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel whole again. And my mother hadn’t recovered either; she had retreated into her own world, filled with sorrow.
But I was going to do what I could to live my best life, just as my daddy would have wanted. And that started with me nailing this interview and getting the job of my dreams.
Ooo000ooo
I pulled open the heavy wooden doors that were at least eight feet tall and stepped inside La Myrtille. It was like stepping back in time. Little had changed inside the restaurant; it was, as always, classically elegant. Perfect.
The dining area was also much darker than I remembered. Even though it was early in the day and wasn’t open yet, it felt like evening with the thick, burgundy curtains blocking out the sunlight.
My eyes required several seconds to adjust to the lack of natural light. The room appeared to glow with candlelight, either from actual candles on the tables or lighting installed to give that feeling to the place.
“Kara!” Julia cried as she rushed for me, giving me a bit of a jolt in the silence.
I embraced my best friend, happy that I’d get to see her before going in for my interview. She was a hostess at the restaurant and had been for several years now. She was a big reason I got the interview so quickly after putting in a good word for me with her boss.
“I have to warn you, girlie, Xavier is in a mood this morning,” Julia said with a frown. “He got here before any of us did, and he’s been locked in his office all morning.”
The fact that she even got to interact with the world-renowned restaurateur on a daily basis was enough to turn me green with envy. She insisted she hardly ever saw him, that he worked evenings most of the time and she usually worked days. It didn’t matter to me. I’d always admired him from afar, thinking he was one of the most beautiful and sophisticated men I’d ever seen in my life. To speak with him had been a dream of mine since I was thirteen. We were practically neighbors, though I didn’t see him much growing up. When I hit puberty, I certainly started noticing him.
My thirteen-year-old self would have absolutely died knowing I was about to sit down with him in his office and actually interview for a job in his establishment.
“You okay?” Julia asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m fine. Just nervous. Why?”
“Because you’re awfully quiet and don’t seem to be listening to a word I’m saying.”
“Sorry. I’m just going over everything I want to say in my head.” My cheeks flushed. I couldn’t bring myself to admit the real reason I was distracted - that I was more nervous about being in Xavier’s presence than the actual interview itself. I was more than qualified for the job. I could sell myself to just about anyone regarding what experience I did have, especially since I’d rehearsed it countless times in mock interviews with my college advisor.