Once Bitten, No Longer Shy, Julie Steimle [i wanna iguana read aloud TXT] 📗

His Own Nymphomaniac

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

 

Bobo accompanied Troy to nearly everywhere that week, from food shopping to merely hanging around the apartment while Troy did his research—until finally Matthew called, supplying them with an update that cleared Bobo from any more ‘babysitting duty’. Matthew said during the call, in short, that the homicide department had been all over the crime scene and had finally declared that it would have been impossible for Troy to have murdered Brandon. In the available time for Troy to have done it with all the places he had been recorded being at during the murder window, the crime would have had to have been committed in daylight, which made no sense considering the lack of witnesses. Even going at the footspeed of a vampire, let alone the flying speed of a vampire—someone would have seen him, not just running from the scene of the crime but committing the crime itself. Brandon was, to all reason, killed at night, plain and simple—and Troy was one hundred percent acquitted due to his alibi.  

However, Matthew also informed them that this meant that there was a vampire on the loose who was most likely connected to the party Brandon had attended and gotten bitten, which meant quite possibly Connor, Joshua, and Dalton were targets. As such, the biting group had to have police in attendance—just in case.

Getting this message, Troy decided to send a text to the members of the biting group informing them he could no longer attend the meetings and they should change their location without informing him of the new one—for his own protection as well as theirs. He forwarded the gist of what Matthew had conveyed to him and Bobo, making it clear that not only was he not guilty, but also that they had better watch themselves and not walk around at night time.

Only a few texted back.

Alexandra noted her dismay and asked him for the address of the plant nursery where he got the comfrey plant just in case hers died. Dalton merely passed on a thumbs up. Sue however, texted back much later on behalf of the group, informing him that they had selected a group leader and changed locations, wishing him luck in the court case. But then she texted this: *Is the Website up yet?*

Groaning, Troy looked around for Bobo who was suiting up to leave the apartment, now freed for some driving work. “Hey, Bobo. What do you know about the website?”

“Contact your assistant online,” Bobo said, adjusting his tie. He looked classy. “That’s what he’s there for.”

Eying him, especially his suit, Troy asked, “Why do you settle for jobs driving cars and stuff for the Deacons. You’re smarter than that.”

Turning with a grinning tip of an invisible hat, exposing his beautiful white teeth, Bobo replied, “Compliment appreciated. But it isn’t what you think. I do this to prove to Rick I should be his bodyguard.”

Annoyed with that, Troy rose from his seat, setting down his cell phone. “But Rick is all about driving himself.”

“That’s his problem,” Bobo said with a knowing nod. “But today he’s showin’ up at a conference, and conference protocol will be adhered to. Or so his old man says. And that means he has chauffeurs, bodyguards, and a personal assistant with him at all times.”

Troy rolled his eyes. There were days he understood why Rick was the way he was. That wolf’s world was tedious and bureaucratic, full of stupid protocols which he enjoyed escaping when he could. And there were also days he still resented the werewolf, as he had command of all that at the push of a cellphone button—so wealthy that could move small countries—or maybe just cities. Today was somewhere in the middle. It was true that wolf got away with a lot, but he was also carrying a huge burden which Troy realized he knew nothing about.

Not long after Bobo left the apartment, Troy went onto the website and checked in on its progress. It looked good. The login page was simple with no revealing graphics. Only the name of the site, and asking for user name and password. He logged in then gazed at the main page when it came up. There were still images struggling to load, moving a little slower than he liked. Troy wondered about the server. It had to hold more than just the handful of members currently subscribed to the site. He was sure the Deacons, let alone that guy Semour, could make a faster site than this. So he then went into the administrator messaging system to ask for an update. The reply came quickly. Apparently the tech currently was online.

*Just getting out a few bugs. I was asked to hold off until after the police investigation—just in case.*

Troy leaned back, staring at the screen. That made tons of sense, though he felt a little offended. Obviously they were not entirely sure he was not guilty. And yet, he wondered if that really was the reason. What if a vampire in their group had attacked Brandon? If that truly was the case, it would not do to give him any more access. So Troy messaged the tech assistant, thanking him and asking him to email him as soon as the site was up, as the others are asking him about it.

*Will do.* came the return message.

Troy texted Sue back next, repeating what the computer tech. had told him.

*Thanks.* She replied. *I’ll tell the others.*

Not ten minutes later, Nicole texted Troy.

*Are we still on for dinner?*

Grinning, he texted her back: *If you want to eat in tonight.*

He got another text from her.

;)

 

Nicole showed up at around five in the afternoon. She brought some supplies and they made something she called Navajo Tacos. They were incredibly good, and did not contain garlic. Bobo had not returned from work, despite them planning on saving some food for him, but Bobo had texted Troy he would be out at a hotel with Rick’s crew and simply warned Troy not to do anything naughty… with a winky face emoji.

Showing Nicole the text, Troy winked at her and said, “That means we have the apartment to ourselves.”

Grinning back, Nicole rubbed her hands on his chest, leaning closer to him. “Then how about we play strip poker?”

Laughing, Troy jumped up from his seat. “I’ll get the cards.”

As they played, neither of them very good, Nicole up the stakes with each lost hand and said with every time they stripped, they also had to recite a poem they had memorized while growing up. If you could not think of one, you had to take an extra piece of clothing off. It was her favorite way to play the game. They were strictly not allowed to use song lyrics, as that would be cheating. Laughing, Troy accepted, not sure he would be able to do it, as he wasn’t really into poetry, but it certainly made things more fun.

They started with little things, like the nursery rhymes. Then Nicole went into some deeper poems, one which she liked but others had remarked to her was creepy, but she thought Troy might appreciate it. She recited while sitting on the couch in her bra and pantyhose, her clothes tossed to the side next to nearly all of his:

 

“Because I could not stop for death,

He kindly stopped for me;

The carriage held just ourselves

And Immortality.”

 

“By Emily Dickenson,” she said with a nod to him.

Troy clapped.

“What about you?” she said to him. “Your turn.”

He thought for a moment and played his hand. It was just two pair. Less than her three-of-a-kind. He shrugged, then said, “My beard grows to my toes. I never wears no clothes. I wraps me hair, around me bare, and down the road I goes.” He grinned at her, standing up to kick off his boxers to prove it. “Shel Silverstein.”

She laughed, rising and resting her hands on the back of his neck, admiring his bare flesh. “You lost.”

Shrugging, he said to her with a gentle kiss, “I think I won. I have you.”

Giggling, she bit her lip then kissed him deeply, allowing him to take her nylon stockings off.

 

They stayed downstairs that night.

Troy got a text from Bobo the following morning after showering with Nicole, one informing him he had two more days with Rick at the convention, but they might stop by the apartment during that time, as Rick was concerned about bite victim who had died and its effect on Troy.

Irritated, Troy texted back: *Is he checking in on my vampirism too?*

*No.* Bobo replied. Then he added: *He knows what it is like to be falsely accused of murder. He’s worried about you.*

A shiver went through Troy. Damn. A werewolf worried about a vampire. Rick really was a weirdo.

“What’s that?” Nicole asked, barely dressed in the towel, holding the half empty carton of eggs, thinking up something for breakfast.

He kissed her on the neck and said, “Just a text from Bobo to say he might be chauffeuring Rick Deacon over here to check in on me.”

“Rick Deacon?” Nicole blinked her large eyes at him.

Troy laughed. “Oh, no. I know that look. If you are fantasizing the size of his ‘manhood’, don’t even. I know for a fact that the last, and only gal who had convinced him to take her bed had used some kind of chemical help to get him to drop his pants. Besides, he has a secret thing for a certain vegan who’d take on wolves and African wildlife before even considering him. So you’re out of luck.”

“Really?” Nicole looked impressed. It annoyed Troy more, as he knew she was insatiably curious about that sort of thing. It was a problem with her being a nympho.

Moaning, Troy kissed her again. “Aren’t I enough?”

She kissed him back, dropping out of her towel. “Everything I want.”

Grinning, he nibbled into her neck once more… but did not take a bite. Instead, he took her to the couch where they made love again.

It was around noon when they finally got dressed and he walked her to her apartment. Though the sun seared down like a disapproving eye, he liked that he could still walk with her under it. She had especially enjoyed slathering the sunblock all over him before they could go outside. She took her time doing it too. He walked her up all her apartment steps and peered in when she unlocked the door. Her roommates waved to him, eyes lighting up with interest. And one converged on her, hissing under her breath about Nicole’s share of the rent—but Nicole waved her off, saying she would get it to her later. Troy noticed them eying him, sizing him up, especially ogling his ‘package’ as he stood there. It was more than a little blatant, actually.

As he looked around at the cramped, shared space, one idea smacked him in the face, and he said, with exasperation, “Nicole, why don’t you just move in with me?”

“She has to sell her lease first,” one of the gals piped up, flustering with the oddest desperation. Her heart fluttered as her cheeks colored. For a minute, he got the impression she was getting turned on by him just standing there—which had never happened to him in his life. He was pretty sure he had not become ‘Twilight’ gorgeous. He could still see the watermark of his reflection in the mirror