Vampire’s Second Chance

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

He grins at her, the kind that reaches his eyes and bring out his dimples. Honor can’t help but smile back. He’s older, but not much. Time has been good to him.

“I’ve missed you, Hon.”

“Me, too.” Honor falls into his arms. He smells so good. His shoulders are broader but not too broad. His chest is hard. It used to be softer.

He pulls back and runs his fingertips along her jawline, tilts her chin up and slants his mouth over hers. His tongue probes her mouth and he pulls her into him. Honor moans, her body tingles everywhere. He kisses along her jawline, down her neck, and back to her lips. His hair is loose and shines in the moonlight.

“I love you, Hon.”

“I love you, too,” she breathes. Her body responds to his touch as he lifts her shirt over her head. His shirt disappears, his chest bare and sculpted and paler than she remembers. She pauses, thinks, something isn’t right. Then his lips are on hers again, his hands unfastening her bra and freeing her breasts. He kisses her and the world feels right. Honor arcs into him, naked and needy. His fingers are like fire on her skin, exploring every inch of her body. She wants him more than she’s ever wanted anything.

He stretches her on the floor – or is it grass? Honor doesn’t care. She feels him hard against her, the length of his body covering hers, his hair falling around them, tickling her electrified skin. She touches him; he’s cold so she wraps her arms around his waist to pull him closer, to share her warmth with him. He shudders. His eyes meet hers and he traces along her side, her waist, the curve of her hip. He watches her reaction, holds her gaze as his fingers reach her thigh, crawl back up her inner leg, oh so close to bringing her relief.

His lips find hers as his fingers find their mark, sliding into her core. Honor moans into their kiss, wanting more, wanting all of him. His fingers move faster, skillfully teasing a reaction from every inch of her body. She digs her nails into the small of his back and down his hips, writhing beneath him to get where she truly wants to be. He withdraws some and regards her, his eyes full of emotion and longing and something she can’t quite place.

“What’s the matter?” Her voice is dreamy; she just wants him back inside her.

“Nothing,” he says simply.

“Then why are you so far away?” Honor asks.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He answers her question with his own.

“Yes,” she responds breathlessly. “More than anything. I want you.”

“I want you, too.” He adjusts his weight and she feels his s*x against hers.

Honor closes her eyes, expecting him to push inside her, to feel him fill her, complete her. But he doesn’t. She opens her eyes. He’s slipping away from her. She reaches for him. He says her name. He screams for her.

“HOLLY!”

Her eyes snap open. Greg is standing over her, confused and angry. She pats her body, still clothed, essays splayed on her lap.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Greg asks. “And who the hell is Travis?”

Honor recoils. The dream. She was dreaming of Travis. “What did I say?”

“You said a good deal about Travis and how you love him and it sure sounded like there was a whole lot of love going on,” Greg accuses.

“I – I was dreaming, Greg,” Honor grumbles, trying to regain her composure. “I don’t even remember it,” she lies.

“Well, whoever Travis is, it sounds like he means something to you.” Greg backs off. “You don’t know a Travis?”

“Not anymore,” Honor explains. “I went to school with a boy named Travis but he moved away years ago. Come on, you know the brain does crazy stuff, especially when somebody’s tired. I haven’t been sleeping well, you know that, too. I probably just saw something that reminded me of when I was a kid. I’m sure it was something stupid.”

“It didn’t sound stupid,” Greg mutters. “And dreams are the brain’s way of making sense of things or bringing our subconscious to the surface.”

Honor sits up and shifts the papers off her lap. “You are just being paranoid. I haven’t seen Travis since he moved to Louisiana eight years ago. Seriously, Greg. I live with you, I’m with you.” She stands up and wraps her arms around Greg, burying her face in his chest to hide her lies.

“I’ve just never heard you like that, Hon,” Greg says into her hair. “You seemed really, er, aroused and then you said another guy’s name.”

“I’m sorry, but it was just a stupid dream. Probably brought on by the two glasses of wine I had while grading the essays.” Honor reasons with him. She is annoyed at his insecurity all of a sudden.

“Two glasses?” Greg asks. “The whole bottle is empty, Hon.”

“Well, then there’s your answer. I guess I drank a little too much and look what happened.”

“But you don’t seem hung-over.” He pulls away and studies her face.

“I have a headache,” Honor lies again. She actually feels pretty great, especially for somebody who plowed through a bottle of wine in a few hours, if that.

“Take some aspirin and hydrate, okay?” Greg seems to believe her. “I have to get to campus. There’s some new adjunct professor who selected me to be his TA next semester. He wants to meet with me and go over his style or whatever.”

“That’s great, Greg.” Honor forces a smile. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Hon.” He smiles a lopsided grin, his trademark. “Will I see you tonight?”

“Maybe. But I’ll have to finish grading these essays.” Honor gestures toward the mess.

“So would it be okay if I go out with the guys?” Greg asks sheepishly.

“Of course. Celebrate, have a great time.” Honor hides her own relief. Has he always been this irritating?

Greg leans in and kisses her forehead. “Happy grading!” He grabs his satchel and keys and leaves without another glance her way.

Honor stands in the middle of the living room. Parts of the dream come back to her. The way she felt, the longing, the love. It was definitely about Travis, but why? Why now? She recalls seeing somebody who looked like him yesterday and smacks herself in the forehead. Duh. She thought she saw him yesterday, that explains why she’d dream about him now. Mystery solved. Life can go back to normal starting with the stack of essays.

Honor settles into the couch and pulls out her phone. s**t! She’s got class in twenty minutes! Why didn’t Greg say anything? Honor jumps off the couch and scrambles to get ready, nearly forgetting her laptop and phone in the process. She drops her keys three times in her attempt to lock the door and nearly decides to skip class. The familiar nagging voice in her head reminds her how important this class is. Honor manages to lock the door and takes off for campus.

She’s only ten minutes late to class but earns a glare from her professor. Not good. Honor feverishly scribbles notes in her journal, not daring to unpack her laptop and attract more attention. Of course, Professor Conway calls on her several times throughout class, her way of acknowledging and punishing Honor’s tardiness. Honor answers sufficiently and earns the equivalent of a compliment each time.

Hopefully, it makes up for being late. As the lecture comes to a close, Professor Conway reminds the class to submit their papers and begin researching their next project. Honor freezes. She didn’t print her paper! The rest of the class begins packing up. Honor fumbles through her bag, mind racing. She can go to the print lab, get a copy and take it to Conway’s office. Her mind runs through the apologies and excuses she could give when something in her bag slices her finger. She yanks her finger out and sees a paper cut on the pad of her index finger. How?

Honor pulls everything out of her bag and finds a pristine copy of her paper – perfectly formatted and stapled in the corner just as Conway specified. Maybe she printed it sometime after her second glass of wine and before she finished the bottle.

Hell, it doesn’t matter how that copy made it to her bag, it just matters she can turn it in without repercussions from Conway. Honor sets the paper on the desk beside her and repacks her bag. She is now the last one out of the room and has to face Conway directly.

“Miss Chamberlain.” Professor Conway furrows her bushy brow and leans on her gnarled walking stick. She resembles an owl in a bad polyester suit and outdated feathered hairdo. Honor might hate this woman a little bit.

“Hello, Professor.” Honor forces a warm smile and lies through her teeth. “I apologize for my tardiness. I was detained by one of the students in Professor Gilson’s lecture.”

“See that it doesn’t happen again, Miss Chamberlain.” Conway scowls at her. “If you cannot take your own classes seriously then it would seem you are not serious about completing your degree.”

“I am truly sorry, Professor.” Honor is seething but continues to smile at the old b***h. “It will not happen again.” She hands her paper to Conway and heads for the door.

“This paper had better be stellar, Miss Chamberlain,” Conway calls from behind her desk.

Honor turns and nods. “I hope you like it.” She hightails it out of there before Conway can say another word. Honor doesn’t slow down until she approaches the food trucks and spots Carmen lounging under a tree.

“Hey-ya, Hon.” Carmen greets her lazily, a pair of over-sized sunglasses hiding most of her face.

“Hung-over?” Honor asks.

“Yeah. May have partied a little too hard last night,” Carmen mumbles. “But it was worth it. Wish ya’d been there.”

Honor settles in the patch of grass next to her friend and leans against the tree trunk. The smell of greasy food sets her stomach rumbling. “You know that’s not my scene.”

“Why’d you sit down? Aren’t we gonna eat?” Carmen asks. “That is your stomach growling, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Honor chuckles and pushes back off the ground. “This is just such a nice spot to sit and it’s been a weird day so far.”

“Weird day, huh?” Carmen pops up next to her, suddenly interested. “What’s up?”

“I had a dream about an old boyfriend last night,” Honor starts. She’s never told anybody about Travis so she pushes past that to the other parts, “after finishing a bottle of wine even though I only remember having two glasses. I somehow fell asleep on the couch, completely overslept, and was late to Conway’s class. Oh, and I apparently managed to print out my paper without even remembering it.”

“Whoa, that is a weird day,” Carmen agrees. “Did Greg print out your paper for you?”

“Yeah right,” Honor snorts. “Things have just been strange since yesterday. But maybe I’m reading too much into things.”

“Strange things happen all the time, Hon.” Carmen gives her a meaningful look. “But if you say something is going on, then I believe you.”

“I don’t know what I’m saying. Maybe I just need more sleep.” Honor rubs her fingers over the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know. I wasn’t even hung over this morning. Shouldn’t I feel something after drinking a whole bottle of wine in a few hours?”

“Hon, count your blessings. My freaking head is like the percussion section of the marching band right now,” Carmen groans, “so get me some greasy food and let’s go back to your place and talk this out.”

“I have to work,” Honor protests.

“At four, same as me,” Carmen argues. “C’mon girl, you’ve got time.”

“I have essays to grade, and a paper to start researching and who knows what I’m forgetting right now.”

Carmen turns to face her, puts her tiny hands on Honor’s shoulders, and says, “Honor Chamberlain, you need to take a break. You are literally driving yourself insane. And, we really need to talk.”

Honor feels herself nodding her agreement. “Okay, Carmen.”

“Good. Now what are we eating?” Carmen grins and sizes up the food trucks.

“Definitely the BBQ pork.” Honor gestures toward the truck on the far right, her favorite. She buys two sandwiches and hands one to Carmen. “You wanna walk?”

“How far is it?” Carmen asks through a mouthful.

“Just a few blocks, maybe ten minutes.” Honor knows it’s more like twelve but really would rather walk in the fresh air.

“Sure, why not?” Carmen shrugs. “This is delicious, Hon.”

“Right? It’s my go-to when I have a jam-packed day,” Honor explains. “I’ve learned all the great eats from here to work and then some.”

“So, not a cook?”

“I love to cook but I don’t exactly have time for real meals these days, unless I visit Mom.”

Carmen says something that comes out garbled because of the mouth full of BBQ. She chews it, swallows and tries again. “Why would you cook if you can eat like this?”

“Because I like it?” Honor takes a bite of her own sandwich, not the best she’s had from that truck but not the worst either.