Hybrid Moments

Oliver couldn’t, for the death of him, remember giving this vixen an invite to his party. He was sure he would remember her if he’d run into her before, with her full lips stained red, black hair so thick you could get lost in it, and legs that went on forever. It was like she walked right out of his nightmares, her dress stained with blood and gripping her body the way he wanted his hands to.

It sent chills down his spine just thinking about it.

He sighed, pulling a cigarette from its pack, and placed it between his lips. After flipping a zippo out of his pocket and torching the end, he took a huge drag and let it out on another sigh. By the time his cigarette was gone, Oliver decided he had to have her. He crushed the butt into his ash tray, whipped a comb out of his back pocket, quickly swiped it over his hair to keep it in line, and made his way inside.

It was a chore to find her, searching through a sea of French maids, vampires, werewolves and anything else you could dream up, but when he finally set his sights on her, he kept his distance. She swayed her hips to the song, and when she threw her hands over her head, her dress rode up and exposed the bottom hem of the lace garter she wore underneath.

After swallowing hard and smoothing a hand over his hair in a nervous gesture, Oliver put his game face on and approached the dark doll. She didn’t notice him, as she had her eyes closed serenely and listened to the music. It seemed her body was moving of its own accord, fluid and in time with the slow, chugging Goth-metal.

He came up behind her, unable to stop himself from watching her bottom sway and press tight to the fabric. Finally he was close enough to touch her, and he reached out, trailing a finger down her tattooed bicep. Her eyes fluttered open for a split second to meet his, and he briefly noted that their color was nearly radioactive in the green glow of the room, before she cut his thoughts off by leaning back into his chest.

This time, he slid his palms down both of her arms, raising goose bumps along her skin.

When he reached her hands, he allowed his fingers to lace between hers, and she responded by giving them a light squeeze and tipping her head back slightly. She continued to sway and instinctively, he moved with her. At this point, he found it hard to form coherent thoughts.

Oliver’s little ghoul raised their hands together, and he took the opportunity to make her shiver by raking his short nails lightly down the insides of her arms. He leaned his head forward, pressing his cheek to hers over her shoulder while his hands continued to find their way down her sides, over her ribs and finally to a rest at her hips. He gave a small squeeze, and she nuzzled her cheek against his as an act of appreciation.

As the dance continued, both parties grew warmer and more confident in each other. Oliver started to pick up on the things she responded to, like nipping her earlobe with blunt teeth.
As a result, her eyes would shutter and her lashes would fall like blankets over her cheeks.

Until this point, he hadn’t tasted her full, red lips because her back had been pressed to his chest. But after dancing and watching, he couldn’t hold back any longer so he grabbed her wrist and spun her to face him. Her face was surprised, but he didn’t give her time to react as he dove forward, capturing her lips with his. The sensation was almost more than he could handle, but as soon as he started it, she caught fire and with feverish heat, returned his lush, full kisses.

This dance continued until the two were out of breath and weak at the knees, at which point Oliver pressed his lips to her jaw and said hotly in her ear, “I’m all shook up, doll. What’s your name?”

With a hellish smile, she introduced herself as Vivian Hunter.