Hotter Blood: More Tales of Erotic Horror

him, framed in silhouette.

'Good evening, Milo.'

'Guh… good evening.'

'Please, come in.'

She stood aside, and Grymdyke caught a whiff of some exotic fragrance as he stepped into the narrow foyer. Incense or perfume? He couldn't say.

'I'm glad you came.'

He forced himself to look at her directly, conscious of the color flaming in his cheeks. She wore a plain black velvet dress which flattered her figure without being suggestive.

'I brought you this.'

She took the package, sniffed it once, and smiled. 'I love dark chocolate, thank you. Would you like to see the house?'

'Yes, please.'

'I've really just moved in. You'll have to picture furniture.'

He followed her through the parlor, dining room, and kitchen, fascinated by the motion of her hips. The furnishings were sparse, as advertised. Where she had started decorating, Milo found surrealistic paintings on the walls, small graceful sculptures occupying shelves and counter space.

She offered him a drink while they were in the kitchen. Milo took a glass of wine and waited while she poured one for herself.

'To passion.'

Milo touched his glass to hers and took a healthy swallow, startled by its potency and fire.

'You don't look like your name,' she said.

'I've never thought about it,' he replied, although, in fact, he had considered it on several occasions. 'You don't, either.'

'May I tell you something?' The fluorescent fixture overhead struck highlights in her hair and cast her face in shadow.

'Yes… I think so.'

'Laney Thatcher is my stage name. I'm an actress… or, I will be, soon. I have auditions scheduled. The arcade —»

'I understand.'

'I knew you would.' She smiled. 'My parents came to the United States from Greece in 1949. The civil war. My real name is Thanatos. Lamia Thanatos.'

'Lamia.' He turned the strange name over on his tongue. 'I think it's more attractive than the other.'

'Do you?'

'Yes.'

'I'm glad.' She drained her wine and Milo followed suit. 'Shall we continue?'

'Please.'

The house was small by modern standards. Milo wondered what there might be left to see.

'The bedroom.'

She had finished decorating here. The bed was queen-size, flanked by windows with their drapes drawn tight. A lamp and ornate telephone adorned one nightstand; an alarm clock and a decorator box of Kleenex graced the other. The chest of drawers and vanity were hand-rubbed wood, and Milo took them for antiques. The lights were soft, seductive.

'I enjoy the decorating.'

'Yes, it shows.'

She moved into the room, and it felt natural for him to follow her. She turned to face him, standing close enough to touch — if only he possessed the courage.

'This is what you wanted?'

Milo blinked and dropped his gaze, unable to respond coherently. She cupped a hand beneath his chin and raised his face until their eyes were locked.

'You must not be embarrassed. I am everything you wanted. You are everything I need.'

She slowly turned her back and bowed her head, presenting Milo with her zipper tab. 'Undo me? I can't seem to reach it.'

Milo knew she could — how else had she got dressed? — but he was flattered by the gesture, burningly aroused. He ran the zipper down to Laney's waist and watched the two halves of her dress peel back, revealing silken flesh beneath. Against the plain black velvet, Laney's skin seemed pale. She wore no bra.

A shrug, and now the dress lay pooled around her ankles. Laney wore no panties, either, and from where he stood, her buttocks looked soft to the touch, covered with a layer of perfect down.

Another turn, and she was facing him. He had already scrutinized her body once, in intimate detail, but this was very different. He could touch her now, unless she stopped him at the final moment, and his fingertips were tingling with anticipation.

Laney moved in close to Milo, rising on her toes to kiss him. Dizzy, trembling, he allowed his palms to rest against the soft swell of her hips. She moved against him, heat communicated from her flesh, through Milo's clothing, and he stroked the curve of Laney's spine. He wanted desperately to feel her flesh against his own.

She eased the jacket off his shoulders, draped it on a chair, returning for his shirt and tie. He raised his arms to make removal of his T-shirt easier, and then her nipples brushed against his chest, sharp exclamation points of animal desire that made him gasp.

His belt delayed her briefly; as she grappled with it, Laney pinched her lower lip between her small, white teeth. He was amazed to see the beads of perspiration on her forehead, in the valley of her breasts.

She let him kick his shoes off, step out of his slacks and shorts. He kept his socks on as she led him to the bed and saw him seated on the mattress, pressing backward with a slim hand on his chest until he stretched out supine.

When Laney came to join him, Milo felt a sudden urge to run away, but he was helpless as the naked woman crouched above his face, thighs straddling his head. He could not see her face, but he was perfectly familiar with her smell, the fleshscape of her breasts and stomach looming over him. He had committed every pubic hair to memory.

Her laughter rippled in his ears like wind chimes, and she spread herself for Milo, showing him the eye. Its scrutiny was piercing, inescapable; he lay exposed in body, mind, and soul.

The woman understood his hunger; she had seen it with her secret eye. A shudder rippled through her body as the eye blinked once, rolled back — and disappeared. She settled over Milo's face, warm lips pressed tight against his own.

He feasted on her, ravenous, not caring that his nose and mouth were covered and he could not breathe. A skillful tongue flicked out to spar with Milo's, worming in between his teeth, another sweet surprise, and he was drowning, happily oblivious to galloping asphyxia.

She pulled away from Milo, sudden deprivation and the rush of oxygen to starving lungs producing spastic tremors in his rigid body. Crouching at his side, she gently drew his foreskin back and ran her tongue around the swollen glans, his shaft on fire.

Without another moment's hesitation, Milo opened to her, staring back at Laney with his secret eye, his small tongue flicking out to trace the sharp edge of her teeth. There was delight in Laney's laughter as she mounted him.

'I was afraid I'd never find you,' Milo said.

'You have.'

'I see.'

She poised above him, open, trembling, ready.

'Kiss me.'

Grymdyke raised his hips to meet her, and the velvet darkness swallowed him alive.