The Vampire and the Man-Eater (3 page)

It was fall. Probably just a cold.

After a quick check of his penthouse, Brock shut off the lights and crawled back into bed. Lying awake once he set the alarm, he knew he had to get to sleep or he'd be dragging at work all day. Curling into the pillows, Brock closed his eyes and finally let the exhaustion lull him back to sleep.

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22

The Vampire and the Man-eater

by G.A. Hauser

"No. It's a bear market at the moment, I don't recommend it." Brock gazed out at the Manhattan skyline from his office on Wall Street. Speaking into his headset, he swiveled in his chair back to his computer, clicking keys.

"What do you recommend?"

"Forget the manufacturing stocks. Forget anything to do with banks and mortgages." Brock flicked his eyes to his secretary bringing him a latte. "If you want my recommendations, go for foreign markets. Diversify. I'd buy Brazilian commodities, British pharmaceuticals..."

"Gold?"

"Gold's hit its peak. You're too late." He whispered quickly,

"Thanks, Faith."

"You need me?" she asked.

"Yes." He held up his finger for her to wait. As she sat down in the supple leather chair in front of his desk, Brock tickled the keyboard again. "Look, Ronald, let me do some trading for you. You're too heavy in Lehman and Morgan."

"You do what you see fit, Brock. That's why I hired you."

"Trust me, Ronald. I won't steer you wrong. I'll trade and send you the results via email."

"Thanks, Brock."

Brock disconnected the line. "Faith," he sipped the latte,

"find me some info on last week's top ten Euro-stocks after that miserable Bear Stearns fiasco."

"Okay. You all right?"

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"Hm?"

"You're tugging on your collar. Is your shirt too tight?"

"No. I just cut myself shaving and it's killing me. I should just take off my tie and unbutton my collar."

"You only have phone appointments scheduled, so go ahead."

Pausing as he considered it, he gave up and loosened the knot of his silk Forzieri tie. Not removing it, allowing it to still hang around his neck in case he needed to meet with someone unexpectedly, Brock opened his top button, breathing a sigh of relief.

"You poor thing." Faith pouted. "Can I get you anything for it?"

Brock's phone rang. Holding his finger up to her again to wait, he answered, "Brock Hart, how can I help you?"

"I was looking for some advice on investing."

"Great, can you hold one moment?" He clicked a button and tugged down the side of his collar. "Christ, what do we have in a first aid kit?"

"Let me check. I can at least get you a band-aid."

"Thanks, Faith." He pressed the hold button. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

In a few minutes Faith returned. She set out an adhesive strip and some antibiotic ointment. Pausing in his typing, Brock yanked his shirt collar down and said, "I need a mirror."

"I can do it."

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"Thanks. I do appreciate it, Faith. I know it's not in your job description." He smiled at her, feeling embarrassed since he had just hired her.

"Don't be silly." She walked around the large desk and sat on it. "Now, where is it? Oh!" She stared at it in surprise as he lowered his shirt for her. "Wow, you did one heck of a number on yourself. You said you did it shaving?"

"I guess. I have no other ideas on how it got there."

She pressed the adhesive strip over it. "The ointment should help."

"You're a doll."

"And you need a wife." She laughed as she cleared up the tiny bits of paper.

"I need a nurse, not a wife." He winked.

"Are all you high-powered men single?"

"I'm too busy for a relationship. You know that."

"I take it you want me to bring you lunch?"

"I'll order it. You don't have to pamper me, Faith. You're my secretary, not my slave."

"I don't mind."

His phone rang. He waved to her as she left his office.

"Brock Hart, how can I help you?" As he listened to the request, he cupped his hand over the band-aid trying to ease the discomfort.

* * * *

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"Brock." Adrian shut the door behind him, a wicked smile on his lips.

"Something I can do for you?" Brock gave Adrian's smart Yves Saint Laurent suit a once over. When all he received in reply was a demonic grin, Brock spun his chair around, away from his desk and waited.

Once he drew closer, Brock caught a scent of Adrian's expensive cologne. As the man leaned forward, Brock kissed him. A tongue coaxed his mouth open as Adrian leaned his hands on Brock's thighs for balance.

After they parted lips, Brock slouched down, straddling his legs as Adrian knelt between them. Behind the hand-carved rosewood desk, Adrian unzipped Brock's William Fioravanti slacks. His cock already hard, poked out of his briefs when coaxed. As Adrian sucked it, he wrapped his arms around Brock's hips interlocking his hands behind him.

Resting his head back on the soft leather chair, Brock closed his eyes as he was attended to. He loved the evenings when Adrian walked through his door. As that brown head of hair rose and fell on his lap, Brock's gasps began to emerge.

Digging his hands into his mane, Brock thrust his hips deeply into Adrian's mouth and came. The reverberations still throbbing through him, Brock savored Adrian's soft mouthing and licking as he recuperated. "Oh, doll, you give great head."

Adrian sat back with a devilish smile.

Changing places, Brock kissed him quickly and stood allowing Adrian a seat. Adrian was one of the few men Brock reciprocated with using his mouth. Sucking a millionaire as 26

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gorgeous as Adrian Tripp was one of his highlights. Fastening his fly first, Brock knelt down before Adrian like a knight about to be anointed by his king. Smoothing his hands up Adrian's tight athletic legs, Brock shivered in anticipation.

Unbuckling his belt, his button, and his zipper, Brock exposed that large, engorged cock and moaned in pleasure at the sight and scent of it. Adrian caressed Brock's hair and face lazily. Brock lavished in the deed, sucking down to the base, slipping his hand into those expensive silk designer slacks and groping Adrian's balls.

Adrian's cock rippled and seeped at the tip. Brock increased his tempo and pressure, groaning in delight. A deep masculine grunt alerted him. Adrian's come shot out in hot pulsating throbs. Swallowing him down, Brock lapped at the tip so Adrian wouldn't get any come on his expensive clothing.

Sitting back on his heels, Brock gazed at Adrian's handsome, contented expression.

"I do adore you," Adrian purred.

"You adore my tongue." Brock got to his feet, rubbing the saliva off his mouth and straightening his clothing.

"Yes, it's true." Adrian sat up, catching his breath before he stood and fastened his slacks. "'Til next time?" Adrian caressed Brock's cheek.

"I'll be here." Brock returned his loving smile. When he was alone, Brock tidied up his desk, shutting off his computer. Before he left he looked outside his window. The light was already fading as fall closed in on winter. Wondering 27

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if his suit jacket was going to be warm enough, Brock reminded himself to bring his coat with him from now on.

Once he shut off the lights in his office, he found the rest of the floor vacant. Riding down in the elevator, Brock felt chilly and shivered. When the door opened to the parking garage level, he gasped in surprise at the man standing in front of him. "You!" Brock shouted. "Are you looking for me?"

"Yes."

It was the first time he had heard this man speak. It occurred to Brock the man had never uttered a word during their last meeting.

"Well. I'm flattered." Brock stepped out of the elevator as the doors began to close. "You left so quickly Saturday night I didn't even get your name."

The man smiled. It appeared he was being modest or shy, Brock didn't know which.

A few office workers were heading to their cars. Brock touched the man's arm lightly. "Did you want to go somewhere for dinner? Did you bring your car?"

"I did not bring a car."

There was an accent to his voice. Brock struggled to figure out its origin. "Well, I've got mine."

Walking with him in the cement multistory parking garage to his reserved spot, Brock used his key fob to disarm and unlock his car.

Once he had climbed into the driver's side, Brock waited as this handsome, well-dressed man in black joined him. Feeling giddy that this fantastic man had sought him out, Brock 28

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reached out his hand. "I suppose an introduction is overdue.

I'm Brock Hart."

The man reciprocated. "Daniel Wolf."

"Right." Brock didn't want to let go, but he did, resting his hand on his lap. "At least now we're not strangers. Though, well," Brock laughed nervously, "that night we had together was amazing. I can't stop thinking about it."

"Neither can I."

"Is that why you hunted me down?" Brock was so pleased he was blushing.

"Yes. I hunted you."

When Daniel's hand squeezed his knee, Brock's body surged with passion. Lunging for Daniel's mouth, Brock decided to forgo protocol and etiquette. Rules? What rules?

Wrapped around Daniel's neck, sucking at his tongue, Brock was so hot, his briefs were becoming damp. Pulling back for a breath, Brock cupped Daniel's jaw, gazing into his eyes. "You gorgeous mother fucker. Look at the color of your irises. I've never seen such green eyes. Do you wear fake contacts?"

"No." Daniel lowered his lashes, chuckling.

"No. Of course not." Brock laughed with him. "Silly me."

Biting his lip, he whispered, "They are positively hypnotic."

Kissing him again, Brock backed up to stare in excitement. "I don't want to sound cocky, Dan. Do you mind if I call you Dan?"

Daniel shook his head.

"But," Brock continued, "I've been with a lot of very attractive men, and ... well..." He made another sweep of 29

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Daniel's face, his lips, his cheekbones, his dark eyebrows, sideburns, hair. "You are the best looking man I have ever seen."

"You have been with many men."

Brock blinked in surprise. "Yes? And?"

"You are what I call a man-eater."

Breaking up with laughter, Brock nodded, "All right. I am,"

leaning over Daniel's lap, unwilling to let him go or stop staring at him. He knew people may be looking into his car as they passed but he couldn't care less. Never had.

"Does it turn you on or off that I'm a 'man-eater'?" Brock teased.

"On."

"Good." Brock went for Daniel's mouth again, lingering, deepening the kiss by urging Daniel closer with his hand in Daniel's thick head of hair. After a long bout of kissing, Brock broke the contact and gasped for breath. "I feel so hard at the moment. I'll come if you even touch me."

As if that comment lit something inside Daniel, he wrapped around Brock, physically dragging him out of the driver's side seat to practically rest on top of him. Impaled by the console and stick shift between them, Brock tried to untangle himself in the Audi's tiny compartment. Twisted, his feet still on the floor under the steering wheel, Brock forced Daniel to meet him halfway. Struggling with the odd posture, when Daniel opened Brock's slacks, Brock had images of spraying his expensive car with sperm.

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Parting from the kiss, Brock whispered, "Let me take you home where we'll be more comfortable. I feel like a pretzel."

He laughed so it wouldn't seem like he was ungrateful.

It took a long moment before Brock got an answer. Staring at Daniel as he stared back, Brock wondered what he was thinking.

"Don't you have time?" Brock caressed Daniel's jaw and cheek.

When Daniel closed his eyes and appeared to be upset or at least in conflict, Brock sat back in his seat wondering if he was being too forward. But that was absurd. They had already had a sexual encounter in his bedroom. "I'm sorry.

Did I say something wrong?"

"I want you now."

Lapping up the compliment like a bear with honey, Brock held Daniel's hand. Giving a look around the emptying lot, Brock offered, "You can suck me here, if you want."

When Daniel dove on him, Brock reacted from the abrupt movement, shrinking back. But as soon as Daniel was attached to his mouth, rolling his tongue around Brock's teeth and lips, Brock relaxed again. A deft hand had his trousers open. Brock was waiting for Daniel to drop down to his lap.

Didn't he want to suck his cock?

A hot palm surrounded his shaft. Brock moaned into Daniel's mouth, sinking in the seat from the pleasure. The contact of this man's hand was enough to send him spinning.

Daniel finally parted from Brock's lips, kissing his nose, his cheek, his earlobe, licking his sideburn, sucking the skin of his neck.

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Closing his eyes, Brock couldn't wait to feel this man's mouth on his cock. If just his hand and kisses could make him this hot, a blowjob from him would be mind-bending.

Brock moaned in pleasure when Daniel ran his teeth down his neck. The chills washed over Brock's skin and his dick throbbed. "Christ, I'm close. I'll get come on my clothes."

A second later, a surge blew through him. Opening his lips, gasping at the intensity, Brock came and felt the pleasure blur with pain. His feet pressed down frantically against the floorboard of the car under the pedals, his back wedged deeply into the bucket seat, and his balls felt so tight they seemed to be shrinking into his body.