They Aren’t Convinced

Jonathon gives you an admonishing look. “We need to get you to doctor. That might need stitches,”

The thought makes you want to laugh. Your neck feels wonderful. In fact you’ve never felt better.

“Jonathon I’m fine.” You give him a little knowing smile, a promise of fun to come.

Steven clears his throat. “I hate to admit it, but Jonathon is right. That could get infected.”

You want to growl. Instead you smile. “I’m glad I have such loyal company.”

“C’mon Heather, let’s go.”

You follow your men by the brides crypt. You hear them whispering to you.

Take them for us.

You enjoy the inhuman melody of their voices. A song too silent for your suitors to hear.

You head up to the exit.

Jack the Ripper seems ready to stop your men from leaving. You glare at him and he backs down.

In a whimsical British accent he says. “Hope you had a wonderful evening, lads.”

You smile at him as he lets you pass.

You reach the car.

Steven looks at your neck. “Fuck, it’s nearly healed!”

Jonathon checks it out. “Incredible! I suppose we could have stayed.”

“That’s alright, I’m feeling a bit tired. Can you take me home?”

“Certainly.” They say in unison.

You step into the car. You ride in silence as strange new sounds and smells **** your senses. They pull into your driveway. You step out of the car and strike a sexy pose.

“Thank you, boys!”

They say a quick goodbye and grumble as they head off.

You head inside and crash in bed. Sleep takes you instantly and you dream…