Chapter Ten

Jerry's eyes shifted, felt the changes within the environment. His lips smirked, she was doing it and took that bit of control he relinquished to her.

The walls collapsed away into nothing before his eyes. He felt the change in the temperature, warmth filled the air. He smelled the change of scents, the distinct scent of salty air that only came from the ocean. He hadn't been near the ocean in decades but remembered the scent all too well.

His eyes again shifted upward and looked to a brilliant evening sky filled with millions of stars. Again his eyes shifted, looked passed her and saw the ocean. The reflection of the moon was vivid against slightly turbulent waters that were nearly the same midnight shade as the sky above. Very impressive, he thought, more impressive than his manifestations within the dreams.

He refocused on her. Never had he thought that he would ever come that close to the world outside the house and she gave him that opportunity if only in her dream. He watched her eyes open, she looked at what she managed to create then a soft smile of remembrance crossed over her lips. This was where she believed she belonged, as her thoughts proclaimed. It was where she originally came from, her homeland of sorts. She gave him an intimate part of her life that in reality he could never be part of or see.

"Huh," she was surprised, her eyes took in the memory of a fragment of her precious East Coast and said, "Welcome to my home."

She loved the smell of the ocean that she spent so many hours enjoying with her family during the summer months and in the chiller months she would come there with friends. Late at night on weekend evenings she and her friends would build bonfires and enjoyed the soft sounds of the ocean. The cliffs that surrounded them amplified heavy metal music they loved and shared.

"This is where I come from." she stated as her eyes shifted and looked to him, "This is where I belong, not in the Midwest where the ocean is too far away."

"Thank you for bringing me here." he sincerely thanked her because for his year long confinement was torture and she gave him somewhat freedom, "This might only be your dream but this will be the closest I'll ever come to seeing any of this."

"Yeah, imagine if it were daylight." she commented and watched his eyes frown which intensified the defining lines between his brows. She had to amusingly grin at his expression then asked, "This is my dream, wouldn't you think you could survive in the daylight if it's just a dream?"

"I'm not sure if that's a risk I'm willing to take." he responded with uneasiness for his last date with daylight gave him death, "But this is perfect." he again smiled, "Night is more my element, wouldn't you agree?"

"Ha, yeah," she slightly laughed. There was more ease having brought them both there, if only in her dream. "I think it's more beautiful at night anyways." she stated with a softer smile.

"Exactly," he agreed and was admittedly more impressed by her than thought possible, "You have a gift."

"A gift?" she asked with a questioning frown.

"Yes, you have the gift to control your dreams and make them into whatever you like them to be. I told you." he explained, she truly had a gift then stated in question, "Do you know that I haven't dreamed in a thousand years?" he watched her gently shake her head, "When a vampire sleeps it's actually not sleep, it's death. I can't remember a single dream I had when I was, well, technically alive. When you can't dream you forget but thanks to you," he never thought he would hear so much sincerity in his own words, "Though these are your dreams, well, they've become my own as well. Thank you."

"I guess you're welcome," she replied, heard in his voice that he truly appreciated whatever she had done.

She guessed like every person in the world, she took for granted the gift of dreams. Dreams were escape from reality but for him, as a vampire, he had no escape for what he claimed was a very, very long thousand years. And, also, there was no escape for him from that ghostly vampire existence either. He had no physical escape from the walls of that house.

She jokingly asked, "So, am I like your ticket to destinations unknown?" she laughed, "Oh, you're gonna be getting into my head all the damned time now."

"Only if you want me there." he answered but intended to be there every time she fell asleep. With her gift, he quite possibly could do as he once had and travel throughout the world and all its countries. Hmm, he smiled in thought, with her around death wasn't as bad as it was before she came along.

"I'll have to think about it." she sarcastically quipped and watched him curiously frown his very attractive large brown eyes, "Oh, I know better," she stated, "You can get into my head without my permission but you're not all that bad, well, in my head."

"Why thank you," he appreciated her more subtle sarcasm, "So," time to get back to the task at hand, "You never answered my question."

"What question was that?" she asked, honestly didn't recall any real question before she created that little piece of memorabilia dreamland heaven.

"Now that you've created your perfect environment," he paused to watch as the salty ocean breeze gently tossed the lengths of her hair about the sides of her face. It was incredibly refreshing to feel that imagined breeze against his own face. Then he finally asked, "Would you like the perfect kiss?"

"Perfect?" she slyly asked, lifted her hands then tucked back the strands of hair that brushed against her face.

"Yes, perfect," he confidently said for he was a perfectionist by nature, of course, "The perfect environment deserves the perfect kiss."

"Well, it's my dream," she spoke with a slight smirk, "I suppose any kiss in my dream would be perfect."

"That's the spirit." he definitely enjoyed her softer sarcasm.

"No, you're the spirit." she choked a little laugh and watched his smile fade and eyes softly narrow, "Sorry, I couldn't resist."

"No, I assume you couldn't," he commented but wasn't allowing that opportunity get away, "And I can't resist any longer."

Before she could even question him with her big mouth, he swiftly reached then grabbed the sides of her face and pulled her forward.

Her eyes flinched wide the moment his lips were against hers. She was stunned the moment she felt the light motion of his lips. He wasn't as aggressive as she first assumed. She thought vampires would be full throttle aggressive kissers. Hell, even teenage guys were more aggressive, lacked any type of restraint.

Her eyes drifted closed. Perhaps that was the definition of the perfect kiss. He was once a vampire and so vampires always were perfectionists, she guessed.

A little soundtrack developed in her mind in response to that possible perfect kiss. Perhaps the song wasn't entirely romantic but in more of a morbid type of romantic, tragic and sad in an obsessive way. From the depths of her mind and into that perfect environment sang the vocals of Geoff Tate's within the metal melody that was Gonna Get Close To You by Queensryche. The song echoed against the sprawling cliffs surrounding the shoreline, just as she remembered.

How many times she listened to that particular song over and over when something truly failed in the so called boyfriend department. Such a tragic song, she always thought, you want something so badly you would go to any lengths to get it even if it meant stalking a particular obsession to death. Yes, morbid but then again, she was being kissed by the ghost of a vampire. What's more morbid than that?

It was her dream, let her have what she wanted while he got his in return and that's what he convinced himself. Surely the music that filled the evening ocean air wasn't his taste by any means but if it got her where he needed her, so let it be.

Yes, he felt the song's inspiration in the manner she finally returned his kiss, it definitely helped. And, yes, she was far more superior when it came to experience in comparison to the kiss he received from Amy Peterson, the last kiss he received.

With the young, sweet, and so adorably innocent Amy, experience wasn't there which gave him complete control which he typically preferred. Yet, young but not so sweet and far from innocent and definitely not adorable but youthfully beautiful Rose didn't suffer from as much inexperience which lightened his control. He found it refreshing being without the weight of maintaining complete control which gave him some breathing room, per say.

There was a great bit of work to get where she finally come, so much effort in such a short period of time. The time came for him to reap the rewards for such effort, her accepting his kiss and he hers, was only part of those rewards. He wouldn't let the likes of her heavy metal ballads side track him and admittedly, he heard worse throughout the centuries which included that particular evening of dancing at Club Radio where he performed nicely even with those awful club tunes.

Oh, yeah, she started to see the light though it was pretty much silhouetted by the darkness of what he truly was. The more she felt his lips kiss against hers, hers kissing his, the more she just willingly accepted it as the sickest form of fate ever dealt in her hand of life's messed up playing cards. Each card became the black king but not of spades, the king of black hearts.

She sighed the moment his lips drew back from hers. Her eyes drifted open, slowly formed a frown. There was a change in his eyes. So, she guessed, that's what a vampire's eyes looked like. Oddly, she thought the red within his large eyes pretty and the outline of fiery orange and the blackness of the pupils seemed to intensify the strange beauty. Supernatural beauty, she mentally described his eyes. She didn't even tense or frighten when she felt the scrape of his unnaturally long nails as they grazed back against the sides of her face. This was her dream. There was nothing to fear which included the fangs she felt through that kiss.

"What's it like?" she asked him, her voice filled with gentle curiosity.

"What's what like?" he asked, felt the fangs brush behind his lips. He saw the curiosity in her intuitive eyes as they shifted in study of the changes he knew occurred.

She wasn't fearful of the subtle glimpse of his fangs, "To be bitten?" she asked, "Like what you did to Amy Peterson."

Well, she surprised him with such a question, obviously more curious than fearful. Even those thoughts inside her mind spoke no fear. "I couldn't entirely say what her experience was." he explained, curious to why she asked such a question, "For what I remember, there was pain at first but I believe the pain subsided into something else. What I remember, having done it more times than I could count, each one is different. Each individual person had their own response. Some might scream with fear and many have simply expressed a type of euphoria." he added, "Honestly, I never asked."

"So," she pressed him.

He was impressed by her growth of curiosity. He never really discussed that subject before with anyone including Billy. "So, I suppose it all depends on the person. As for me, there was nothing more pleasurable," he smirked, "That is me conducting that particular type of kiss." He watched her eyes frown in response to how he referred to the bite as a kiss. "Yes," he gave a nod, "I refer to it as a kiss though it is by far more intimate than a kiss between lips."

Ah, such bittersweet memories, though many of those particular kisses somewhat blended as they became more an action out of pure necessity instead of real intimacy. Amy Peterson was the last time he intimately performed such a kiss.

He was curious why she asked and simply inquired, "Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering," she vaguely answered, wasn't too sure about her reasons.

His head slightly turned with a suspicious tilt then he asked, "Are you perhaps wondering if something like that is possible here in your dreams and if you would suffer the same consequences as Amy?" He studied every shift of her expression. Obviously she was curious. But how curious and to what extent would she go to have that curiosity satisfied?

"I don't know," she answered, really wasn't certain her purpose was having asked such a question.

"I've been wondering the same thing." he confessed and, yes, wanted to know if feeding was a possibility in that dreamland, "It's only a natural curiosity but I would never act on that curiosity unless permitted by you." Again, he gave the impression of control.

He truly wondered if there would be any effect outside the dream if he did pierce her beautiful warm flesh with his fangs. But most of all, he wondered if he could even indulge in the flavor of dreamlike blood. With a cunning hint of encouragement, he encouraged, "Again, Rose, your dream, your call."

Yes, she agreed in thought, her dream.

Her eyes looked away as the concept was almost overbearing, so tempting. Should she take advantage of such a temptation? Would there be repercussions if she gave into the temptation? How could there be repercussions when it was a dream? If he could kiss and touch her then why couldn't he use those spectral vampire fangs?

She determined, she would be doing both of them a bit of service.

Her eyes lifted and again looked to his soft expression. Not even the red of his eyes deterred her from such a tempting thought. She asked, "What do think would happen?" She tried to reassure the direction she headed.

"I honestly can't tell you." he truthfully stated but anticipated she would give them both the opportunity to find out. Then again he watched her eyes shift in thought as a decision was being made and patiently he waited.

"Do you think it'll hurt?" she asked, desperate to make that choice, "I mean because this is all a dream."

"Again, I can't tell you." he stated and expertly hid his anticipation, kept his expression soft and content. Again, patience was the key for he had no choice.

She continued to think. She contemplated how to approach such an uncertain thing. "How would you do it?" she asked, full of questions and concerns.

"I'll leave that up to you." he answered and, again, gave the impression of her control. Perhaps there was more than an impression of control because she did quite well on her own. She headed in the right direction which the direction he wanted her to go.

"Okay," she agreed then thought more. There was so much thought but it wasn't your typical light hearted subject that could be decided on a quick whim.

She again looked him in the eyes, the red still brilliant and oddly beautiful. Maybe, she thought, it should be approached like having sex for the first time, build up to it and not just get it over and done with. She thought more, he described it as an intimate experience, well, intimacy she wanted if she was going to attempt so much uncertainty. Just like sex. Well, she hadn't entirely had sex. So what did she really know?

She knew the steps that led up to sex, well, guessed she knew. Third base was the furthest reaches into sex she eve gone and chickened out before a true play of the game was finished.

Wow, she giggled in thought, she was about to head into a totally other direction and with a ghost vampire of all things.

She made up her mind but not without conditions. Her dream, her conditions. "Um," she stammered, tried to find the words to explain her conditions, "I'm not sure how to put this." She felt somewhat awkward.

He found her awkwardness attractive which made her face easily blush. "Please," he spoke up to ease her awkwardness, "I agree."

"Agree?" she frowned, did he hear her thoughts.

"I agree that this is an honor." he said, beamed on the inside with the thought of possibly tasting blood again, "And I promise to make this a pleasurable experience for you and myself. I don't take this lightly by any means. It might be my only opportunity as well as yours and so," he reached his hand and gently brought his lengthened fingers and nails against the side of her heated cheek, "I will take all the time needed to ensure the full potential of this intimate experience." He watched her softly nod. He found her willing acceptance lovely, for it was from no result of mesmerizing, she did it all on her own with little encouragement from him.

His eyes focused within hers as his long fingers combed back into the length of her strawberry blonde hair. He leaned forward, combed his fingers deeper beneath the hair at the nap of her neck then gently pressed his lips against hers, she immediately responded without hesitation. He gradually heightened the passion of his kiss and her lips instinctively followed his lead.

Damn, he missed it all. There was so much he took for granted throughout his lengthy existence and never thought once that his existence would come to an abrupt end.

Thank you, Rose, he spoke with his mind, thank you for this, Rose.

Yes, she praised in thought, definitely he was the perfect kisser even with the fangs. None of those boys could compare to this ghostly creature's expertise which was easily determined by how expertly his lips moved against hers. And so, she pushed back any lingering fears. It was her choice, her decision to have that experience.

She never shuddered when she felt the lengthy nails of his other hand move against the side of her neck then graze lightly down over her shoulder. So far it was more intimate than anything else she remotely experienced in her short life. Surely a creature of his lengthy life span had more knowledge when it came to the art of foreplay and everything it led up to than any damned teenage boy. Yes, he was far from a boy, way beyond that of a man.

She lightly trembled, not with fear but with a type of excitement. She felt his nails drag down the length of her arm, the length of his thumbnail lightly grazed against the outer side of her covered youthful breast. She instinctively leaned deeper into the kiss and accepted the subtle exploration of his tongue. Her hands lifted and cupped the sides of his face, she had no care that his skin was chilled compared to hers. Then she subtly gasped the moment he led her back down against ground near the outlook of cliffs before her created ocean view.

The heat of her skin felt almost miraculous as it burned against him. His hands practically tingled in response to her glorious body heat. His lips burned with her heat kissed against them. There was nothing like mortal heat, he beamed in thought, missed indulging in such heavenly heat. He wanted to indulge more and more and heat his own skin with the use of hers then by the heat of her sweet blood, so he hoped. Could he quite possibly feel more alive than when he had as a living immortal? It quite possibly felt that way. Not even his moment with Amy Peterson gave him that rush of life, seemed so minuscule in comparison to his moment with Rose.

His right hand moved down along the curve of her youthful hip then gathered the hem of her nightgown with his lengthy fingers and nails. She was so much more responsive to his touch, her youthful body not intimidated by his obvious abundance of experience. No, not like those multitudes of whores who took little to seduce for they would move any way requested or expected with hopes of an earned dollar. He was definitely going to enjoy it for everything it was worth and undoubtedly the enjoyment would be mutual on her part. So far, the enjoyment was mutual because, of course, it was him, Jerry Dandridge.

She simply allowed herself to become lost in it all. She guessed it was the only way to be in such a strange situation. If she thought about it in real depth, likely it would be as it was in all those real moments with boys which meant she would chicken out.

She kept her eyes closed, focused on all the physical sensations, most were definitely new to her but pleasureable nonetheless. His hands were unlike those that eagerly touched her in the past. There was firmness in the touch of his exploring hands but at the same time, there was an unlikely gentleness. The gentleness assumed unlikely because of what he was or had been. He obviously wanted to take his time which she appreciated, helped her to push away any reservations. Surely Amy Peterson didn't get that kind of treatment which she determined made her special.

Her hands moved back against his thick dark hair. He felt damned real to her. He was more real than anything else that was part of her dreams in the past. He was even more real than those boys outside her dreams. Maybe she just wanted it to be real then again, maybe it was real.

Her body pressed upward against his the moment his hand moved beneath her nightgown and pressed a chilled but firm touch against her exposed hip. Yes, he definitely knew what he was doing because she never felt herself respond in that manner.

Hmm, he practically hummed, she fell deeper and deeper into the waves of his expert actions. Not at all innocent were her physical responses which suited him just fine. And what suited him more was the sound of her shuddered gasp the moment he delivered his hand between her young thighs. He lavished in the heat of that gasp against his lips. But, even more so, her body's quick response to his actions suited him divinely.

How had he managed to forget the true pleasures in the exploration of a youthful and beautiful woman?

Damn, he regretted not taken his time with Amy. If he had, who knew what responses he might have provoked out of her virginal inexperience. He immediately knew that Rose was technically virginal but her level of experience surpassed Amy's, that was for certain. Only one who had tasted certain heightened carnal urges responded as she had. Yet, he knew she definitely hadn't experienced carnal completion.

Ah, yes, there was nothing more rewarding than the presentation of a virgin's first initial experience. He knew by what she likely experienced, she never knew true satisfaction because teen boys were lousy and too damned eager to please their own needs. Well, he admitted, he fell victim to his own selfish needs far too many times. Yet, who truly would want to give pleasure to a common whore? He did have his limits to who deserved his true attention and unique affections. And he refused to deny Rose, knew by the end he would reap the reward, taste what his actions filled within the delicate flavors of her blood. He would savor her incredible journey step by step then savor the flavors that were created.

A multitude of hungers and desires ignited inside him, far too long they were forced dormant.

His determination raised as did the depth and passion of his kiss. He expertly heightened the action of his hand, felt her body again eagerly respond as it should. He tasted her breath the moment she heavily sighed. Such excitement the moment he felt her arms wrap around his neck to bury her lips deeper against his followed by her again upwardly pressed against him. Such a firm stroke of his neglected ego when he heard her soft gasped moan the moment he delivered to her body the first true taste of pleasure and how wondrous her bodily responses.

Yes, he admittedly forgot the pure rush given when the discovery was made to what truly pleased such a young body. He forgot the boast of pride when the deed was done to pure perfection. And he forgot the benefit that she would never have that first experience ever again which would make him all the more desirable and definitely wanted.

For someone so young as Rose, it was an addiction in the process. Yes, he proudly proclaimed that he was probably the most addictive drug known to mortal women or men. Vampires were always addictive to a mortal. Vampires will always be adored and envied thanks to the written words and those many films but a true vampire was even more addictive. He pridefully became her addiction and her his, when that particular moment came.

She was beyond enraptured. Her eyes barely opened even if she wanted them to. Her body felt on fire. Nothing prepared her for that burst into pure sexual flames. It was more than perfect, beyond her expectations.

Where the hell had he been all her entrance into that swarm of teenaged hormones?

That's right, he once was somewhere in the world living his immortal life sucking the lives out of common hookers. Then he just happened to be haunting the damned house she moved into.

She determined right then that fate was a total screw when it came down to it. Why hadn't she moved there when he wasn't some ghost in her dreams? Yet, would it have remotely been the same experience?

She was the only one who saw or heard him and, right then, feel in him within the confines of her sleeping imagination. Yes, in her dreams he wouldn't be if he had lived. He was her secret and she wanted to hold onto that secret. She had no desire to share his existence with anyone. She would never take a chance he would be removed, taken away from her. He was the only damned stimulating thing in her current life. Sure he made her miserable at the beginning but in such a short time he became of great importance.

She tightened her embrace around his neck in a type of determination to hold on to that dream, fantasy, or whatever it was. Unlike the life of her mother's, she could hold onto his ghost, spirit, or whatever the hell you call him!

His moment came. With precise action he kissed from her lips and pressed his against the flush of her cheek then delighted, sweet heat. Her head eagerly shifted to the side. His hand brushed back the hair from the side of her neck then firmly he pressed his lips over that sweet heated pulse of life. Her sighs and moans of heightened pleasure were signals his nature's true intimacy would soon be given.

His head lifted as he parted his lips for the first time in a year and exposed those eager fangs in all their sinister glory. Her body stiffened as it eagerly pressed firmer against his, signaled that his time was now.

With swift and perfect precision his fangs pierced the hot flesh and, yes, he could taste the benefits of his actions with the quick burst of her practically burning blood. Oh, how he missed that ultimate finale, heard the sweet melody of her gasped squeal responding to the initial pain of his penetrating kiss combined with the perfectly delivered climax. Sweet divinity flavored her blood and gave life to his delicate palate. He hummed with pure delight which mingled with her euphoric moans. For heightened measure, he bit harder and buried his fangs as deep as possible to ensure a steady flow.

Suddenly, something struck him.

His eyes snapped open with surprise. He drew back as she continued to softly moan. His eyes shifted and looked to her dazed expression.

Oh, Rose, his mind spoke, oh, poor, Rose.

He hadn't expected what her blood would tell him. Most circumstances he ignored anything but his own selfish greed. His eyes oddly softened then became alert to that call.

The clocks chimed.

He looked to her and again his eyes softened.

He faded upon the chime of dawn.

(Author)

Yeah, how many of you who've been working on reading this have become totally lost because of my decision to put it into more chapters and replace it with the corrected, edited, and added stuff, huh? My bad! I wasn't satisfied because I truly wanted to make sure the music was correct for the time and was placed as a precise soundtrack! Sorry!

FRIGHT NIGHT FOREVA!