Surrender. Give up control. The notion frightened and excited her at the same time. Of course, it would never happen. She would never see him again.

THREE

The stripper wasn’t nearly as hot as Delilah, but she would do. Samson hadn’t had sex in months, and he wasn’t going to wait a minute longer. He heard his friends laughing in the kitchen. Had the show already started without him?

He strode through the door into the kitchen and saw Amaury licking red liquid off the woman’s boobs. Blood. Her nurse’s uniform was open in the front. They were like little kids, playing with their food. Vampires didn’t generally feed off other vampires, which didn’t mean they didn’t like to pretend. His friend had obviously dripped some of Samson’s supplies onto the woman and was now enjoying licking it off her.

“Stop monopolizing her. It’s my turn now,” Ricky complained and shoved Amaury to the side. Amaury grinned devilishly but made space for Ricky by concentrating on only one of her breasts instead of both.

“Share?” Amaury’s suggestion was met with approval.

With a grunt Ricky slid his tongue over the stripper’s breast which his friend had just vacated. He licked the remaining drops of blood, before closing his lips over her nipple. The woman threw her head back and moaned loudly as both men sucked on her.

“Yes, baby.” Not that the two guys needed the stripper’s encouragement.

Milo and Thomas watched with little interest.

“Last time I checked, it was my birthday,” Samson interrupted.

Both Ricky and Amaury let go of the stripper’s boobs. All eyes were on Samson.

“So?” Ricky asked.

“What?” he retorted.

“Well, everything working again?” Ricky emphasized his question with an unmistakable movement of his loins.

“I guess I’ll have to do a tryout.” Samson pointed at the stripper.

“Here, baby, have a lick,” she offered and turned toward Samson, but he shook his head.

“Upstairs for a private performance.” For his first sexual act after nine months of abstinence he preferred a little privacy. Not that he would normally care if his friends saw him fuck her.

Samson gave the guys a stern look. “You stay here—and leave me some of the good stuff, for God’s sake! I’ve got some celebrating to do.”

Samson followed the stripper upstairs. He didn’t even ask for her name. It didn’t matter. All he needed was a willing body to plunge into. Damn, had he missed sex. Finally, he would satisfy his carnal desire and be normal again. This was the best birthday present he could imagine. Maybe birthdays didn’t need to be depressing after all. This could be a lot of fun.

Holy hell, had the human woman turned him on. She could raise the dead, and she had. For all intents and purposes his cock had been dead the last nine months. He’d turned into a complete and utter grouch, always irritated, always tense. No longer. After tonight, things would be back to normal again. Sex wouldn’t control his moods anymore. It would just again become a normal part of his life.

The stripper was a vampire, which meant there was no need to be gentle with her. He wouldn’t have to hold back. Just as well, given how tightly wound up he was. When he shut the bedroom door behind them, she turned to him and started her seductive striptease. Nothing he hadn’t seen before. His friends had dragged him to strip clubs often enough, and very little could really surprise him. In his more than two hundred years as a vampire, he’d seen it all.

Piece by piece she peeled out of her white nurse’s uniform. First the blouse fell to the floor, then her short skirt. In sleek movements she released her stockings from her garters and rolled them down, one by one.

Her hands went to her boobs, squeezing them together to emphasize their size. Bazookas. Samson wasn’t really into women with huge breasts. He preferred a cute ass instead, but tonight it didn’t matter. One by one she peeled her heavy melon-sized assets out of the tiny half-cups of her bra. He noticed them sag without the support.

She opened her legs to give him a good view of her pussy through her crotch-less panties. Shaved. Not particularly his style, but it would do. He motioned her to spin around to get a look at her ass. Her g-string hid nothing.

Slowly, she wiggled out of the strings that doubled as an excuse for panties, finally standing in front of him in the nude.

She didn’t interest him, other than as a woman who’d provide him with some much-needed release. He wanted to get it over with.

Samson glanced at his four-poster bed, an antique he’d acquired back in the days when it was considered contemporary furniture. No, he wouldn’t do her in his bed. Bent over the chaise lounge would do just fine. He’d flip her over, get her from behind and fuck the living daylights out of her. At least he wouldn’t have to look at her face and could pretend she was somebody else.