Page 54 of Bite Marks

Judging by the number of open bites I could see, marking bodies from necks and shoulders to thighs and wrists, it was theright call. Even after calling in our entire backlist of donors, they lookedbusy.

Usually, if a vampire was trying to be discreet, they’d close the wound with a bit of their saliva. But here? Who and how many meant something, with the donors wearing their many punctures like badges of honour as they worked the floor. A clear sign of exactly how desirable they were to every vampire in here.

It was kind of… hot.

In the time I’d been working at O, I’d been way too busy to do much exploring while we were open to the public. Especially not beyond the intimidating doors that led to the VIP. So this little field trip was sort of a reward, a thrilling peek into the world that I’d been living in the fringes of.

I shifted the tray in my sweaty palm, taking a deep breath to calm my fizzy excitement.

In and out. It’s no different than working the bar.

I pushed my hip against the brass inverted cross, opening the door just enough to slip into the room beyond—if you could call it a room. It was more of a hallway. The space had the same dark hardwood as the main club, but the wallpaper was a textured matte satin that gave the illusion of depth. Along each side of the hall were heavy curtains, most of which pulled shut so that the alcoves beyond were obscured as I passed through the semicircle corridor.

The deep pulse of bass from the main club did nothing to stifle the sounds of pleasure that assaulted me from all sides, my knees wobbling faintly in the dusk-like orange-red glow of the lights.

A few rooms down, the curtains were pulled back to give me my first eager glimpse into one of the alcoves. A gorgeous woman was seated inside, reclined against a plush pink sofa, her tiny white dress hugging her figure in stark contrast to hercool, dark skin. She smiled, twisting one of her long, thin braids around her finger as I approached.

“Don’t see you back here often, sweetness.”

She looked familiar; I recognised her as one of the dancers that sat close to Elsie, Kitty.

“A little short-staffed today, so I'm pitching in,” I offered with a smile, nodding to the tray in my hands.

Not all of the dancers were donors too, but the ones who were—I could only imagine the amount they charged. Judging by how comfortable Kitty looked back here, this wasn’t her first visit into the back rooms.

She scoffed, returning her eyes to the phone clutched in her manicured hand. “Must be, if you have Juniper serving clients.”

I laughed, glancing down at the order slip tucked into the bottom of the tray. “Which one is the crimson room?”

“Last on the left. Have a good shift, Striker.”

"You too," I replied with a wave. “Don’t work too hard.”

I trailed down the hall, the sound of my heels against the hardwood feeling intrusive when undercut by the sounds of skin on skin and breathy moans. When I reached the curtain that Kitty had directed me to, I hesitated.

It wasn’t like I could knock on fabric. Deciding there was nothing else I could do, I curled my fingers into the luxurious fabric of the drape, preparing to pull it back, when a loud, feminine moan slipped through the gap, making me freeze.

Okay, Vi. Be fucking normal.

Another moan, masculine and breathless, had my interest skyrocketing.

Not for the man, I didn’t really have any interest in them. But something about the client dynamic of it all made my heart race.

I let my curiosity temper for a few stuttered beats of my heart, the glasses quivering on the tray as I peeled back the curtain.

A shiver snaked down my sweat-damp spine as I took in the scene.

On a gorgeous French-style sofa was a woman between two men—twovampiremen. Her red gown had deep slits in the flowing fabric, showing off bronzed thighs, eyes unfocused as they bit and sucked on her neck, fangs slick with her blood.

A dark-haired vampire turned his stubbled face away from her throat, using a massive hand to pull aside the ruched, deep V of the front of her dress before biting down on her bare breast.

She moaned, much louder this time, drawing a dark chuckle from the redheaded vampire on her other side.

“What should we do about this delicious cunt of yours, hm?” he rumbled in a thick Scottish accent, his hand sliding up the bare skin of her thigh until he was cupping her under her skirt. “Fuck you till you beg us to stop?”

“Are you wet for us?” crooned the dark-haired vampire, tweaking her nipple with his fingers.

I averted my eyes, politely trying to ignore them as I set the tray down on the low glass-topped table in front of them, unloading their drinks on the reflective surface.

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