Page 8 of Ghoul Kisses

Iopen Sarah’s bedroom door; she’s bent over, rummaging through her drawer. Her black lace panties are hugging her ass, causing my dick to ache in my jeans, which makes me forget why I came in here in the first place. Maybe, if I fuck her really well, she will cooperate. She turns around and sees me, her face etched with horror, her cheeks staining red.

“What the hell? Eric!” Sarah’s beautiful green eyes grow wide; I strain to keep my eyes on her smooth face, ignoring the fact that I want to bend her over the bed and slide inside her. What I wouldn’t do to that pretty body of hers…

“How long have you been standing there?” She snatches the colorful blanket from the bed, covering her petite body.

Long enough for me to admire your beautiful body. “Not long,” I lie.

Sarah snatches her clothes from the chair and rushes to the bathroom. I remove the dirty sheets from her bed and replace them with clean ones. She comes from the bathroom wearing a sweater and black pants, her hair pulled into a messy knot. She’s avoiding eye contact with me. The last two weeks, I’ll come in, set her food on the dresser and make my way to the chair by the bed. She lies in bed, grabbing the remote from the nightstand, and puts on a show called Grey’s Anatomy. I’m assuming this is her favorite show, because she binges on it. We pretend we don’t exist to each other by not speaking. I’ll check my e-mail and play Angry Birds on my phone. Sarah clicks the volume down on the television as she tucks her legs under her butt.

“I wish I was like Christina, and could have a hot doctor fall in love with me,” she says sweetly.

Is this her way of trying to make conversation? I ignore her.

“Do you watch television?” she asks, tilting her head back on the headboard.

“Does porn count as watching television?” Maybe that will shut her up. She stares at me in surprise.

“I guess so. Is that all you watch?” Sarah asks. I set my phone down on my lap.

“No.”

“What do you like to watch?” she inquires. You naked on the bed underneath me.

“Horror movies.”

“I’m too chicken shit to watch that kind of stuff,” Sarah says softly. I avert my eyes back to my screen.

“What’s up with your eyes?”

“Huh?” I look up at her again.

“Your eyes are bright red, are you wearing contacts?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I lie. Our eyes turn red to appear as a threat to other creatures.

She goes back to watching television and switches to another show called House. I actually like that show, Grey’s Anatomy is garbage.

“How did you pay for this mansion? Are you a pimp?” she asks.

Sometimes, this human asks the strangest things.

“A pimp?” I raise my eyebrow.

“Yeah, someone who hires women to sleep with men for cash, Kate refers to you as a King,” she informs. I feel insulted. She thinks that little of me? I gaze into her green eyes. She is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. Quickly, I look away and glance out the window, watching a bluebird sit on a branch.

“No.”

“How do you pay for everything?”

“With money,” I answer, a hint of sarcasm in my tone. This babysitting shit is annoying, why can’t Sarah cooperate? I had one of my warriors fill my spot in the search for the leech who ambushed Sarah.

Time passes slowly. I peer at my watch, and it is time for the last meal. I stand up from the chair and turn off the television. Sarah is asleep. I head downstairs and sit at the table in the eating area. Nicholas wears a black suit with a red tie. He still wants to keep up with the traditions that we had back home; dressing up for every dinner.

“Have you talked to the human about the book?” he asks, sitting across from me. A servant pours me a glass of water.

“She doesn’t believe in magic,” I answer truthfully. Sarah treats me differently. I’m used to females throwing themselves at me, but this human is unaffected by my charms and clearly wants nothing to do with me. I thought by now, we would be having sex, but it’s not going to happen. I sip my water and set the glass back down on the table. My frustration makes it taste stagnant on my tongue. Odessa–David’s mate—sits next to me. She waves her hand over the dead rose in the center of the table. The plant immediately springs to life, the wilting flower’s bright red petals restored to their former luster. Odessa can bring anything back to life. Back at home, she was a warrior, trained to use her powers to aid the ghouls. She bonded with David before we moved here.

“There. That’s much better,” Odessa says, smoothing out her long black dress. Her shiny blue hair falls in a curtain down her back.

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