Lexi Sylver “A Thirst For Truth”

About Lexi Sylver…

Currently residing in Montréal, Canada, I divide my time between writing short erotic stories and running a small lingerie business.  My passions for psychology, reading, writing and sex have all combined wonderfully to help me produce original, detailed and explicit erotic works for my fans and friends to pore over.  I am in the midst of working on Mating Season, a collection of previously unpublished short erotic stories.  Read my erotic shorts, sex advice, and humorous Top 10 lists on my site: http://www.lexisylver.com/.

A Thirst for Truth

By Lexi Sylver

Currently residing in Montréal, Canada, I divide my time between writing short erotic stories and running a small lingerie business.  My passions for psychology, reading, writing and sex have all combined wonderfully to help me produce original, detailed and explicit erotic works for my fans and friends to pore over.  I am in the midst of working on Mating Season, a collection of previously unpublished short erotic stories.  Read my erotic shorts, sex advice, and humorous Top 10 lists on my site: http://www.lexisylver.com/.

The evening is brisk, a chill sweeping up her bare legs, signaling a change of season.  She feels his arm slide over her shoulders, hugging her body to his, trying to warm her.  She eases into him, making the walk back to her apartment more bearable.  They reach the front steps to her building, and she turns to him with a smile.  Without speaking, he grabs her in his arms.  She looks up at his shadowed face, her body faltering against the hardness of his body.  Then his mouth is on hers, soft yet urgent, the scent of him making her dizzy.

“Come up for a while,” she murmurs against his lips.  He follows her up the winding staircase to her apartment.  She fumbles with her keys, drops them, nervous.  He picks them up and smiles, reassuring her.  The key slides in the lock, and she opens the door, bringing this man into her personal space, her little world away from reality.

He comes up behind her and grips her tightly, sliding his hands down her back, finding the hem of her dress and slipping beneath it.  She moans as he touches the soft, sensitive flesh of her bare thighs and bottom.  His lips lower to her neck as his fingers wander closer to her most aching spot, touching her gently over her moistened panties.  She moans, leaning her head back onto his chest as his fingers slip the straps of her dress down her arms, the fabric falling into a silken pile onto the floor, leaving her almost naked.  He pulls off her panties, propelling her to the bed, where she lies down on her back.  Her eyes flutter shut as his mouth hungrily presses into her inner thighs, until she feels him bite into her flesh, the most exquisite pleasure washing over her…

*****

Cassandra’s eyes popped open, startled by the sudden, loud ringing of her phone.  Her heart racing from her vivid dream and its interruption, she lifted the receiver to her ear.

“Detective Banks.”

“There’s been another one, Detective,” a familiar voice said.  Cassie recognized the caller as Jerry, one of the officers on duty for night patrol.

Another murder?  “Where?” she asked, standing up quickly, then faltering with slight dizziness.  Glancing at the nightstand, she realized it wasn’t even six o’clock in the morning.  Three hours of peace was apparently too much to ask for a working detective in this town.

“1280 Brampton.  We can’t reach Detective Samson, so you’d better get here quick.”

“On my way.”

*****

Cassie found the crime scene easily, with over a dozen uniformed officers milling around, fending off reporters on every side.  She nodded at them and they let her through, recognizing the junior detective quickly, being the only woman on the force.  Stepping over the threshold of the victim’s apartment, Cassie braced herself, expecting a scene as gruesome as the others she’d witnessed in the last week.

Clancy, the medical examiner and one of Cassie’s friends, was leaning over the victim’s bed, momentarily blocking Cassie’s view of the corpse.  She looked around first, noting the plainness of the room, almost as though the victim didn’t want to invest any time decorating once she’d moved in.  The sole window in the apartment was ajar, letting the cold air permeate the room.  Clancy moved away from the bed, instructing his assistant, and then turned to her.

The woman lying on the bed was naked, her body completely white, drained of any signs of life.  Her auburn hair splayed around her head, her eyes closed, the strangest hint of a smile on her lips.  Cassie took a deep breath and moves closer, her eyes roaming over the corpse.  No signs of a struggle or any lacerations… except for the woman’s inner thigh, where there are two oddly placed puncture wounds.  The exact same ones they’d found on the other two female victims.

“Her name’s Vivianne Woods.  It’s the same perp,” Clancy told her.  “Same time of death, same exact marks on her thigh.  Exsanguinated.  Not a single drop of blood left.  No fingerprints, hair or semen.”

Cassie nodded, scanning the body and the room again.  “Brunette, living alone.  I’ll have to check if the neighbors saw them come in last night.”

Clancy shook his head.  “None of them saw or heard anyone come in or leave either.  Said they were sleeping.  He moved in and out like a ghost.”

How right he was.  The last victims had been the same.  So far, they had little evidence, and no leads whatsoever, except for the puncture marks.  Cassie had reason to believe the victims knew their murderer, which was why there was no sign of forced entry or a struggle.  Maybe he had sedated them.  It was clear there was a sexual aspect to this.  Did he have sex with his victims before or after he killed them?  Cassie’s mind churned with millions of unanswered questions.

She needed to get a cup of coffee.  Where the hell was her senior Detective Samson?  It was totally unlike him to be so conspicuously absent from this crime scene, especially since this was predominantly his case.

“Excuse me, Detective?” a male voice asked.  Cassie whirled around, finding a very attractive, dark-haired man in plain clothes standing with a pad of paper in his hand, a camera weighing heavily around his neck.

“Who let you in here?” she demanded, grabbing his arm to steer him away from Vivianne’s body.  “You’re going to taint our crime scene.”

“Did you find any leads so far?” he asked, his pencil poised atop his small notebook.  “Are we dealing with the same mystery perpetrator?”

“I don’t talk to reporters,” she snarled, ejecting him through the front door.

“Please,” the man said, stepping closer to her as though wanting to discuss something in confidence.  “I think we can help each other.”

“Ha!” Cassie chortled sarcastically, getting ready to head back into the apartment.  “Unless you’ve been personally acquainted with the murderer, I doubt it.”

The man smiled, revealing two rows of gleaming, polished white teeth.  “I have some information that could be useful… if used properly, that is.”

Cassie narrowed her eyes at him.  “Well, let’s have it.”

He shook his head.  “I can’t risk telling you here,” he says, his voice barely a whisper.  “Meet me at Ronnie’s bar at seven tonight, and I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

Cassie laughed loudly.  “Right.  It’s that simple.  I don’t know you, and you expect me to trust you with information you probably don’t even have.  Well, I’m a trained skeptic.  And I sense you’re bullshitting me.  So if you’ll excuse me, I have a murderer to locate.”

“Wait,” he said, reaching out to grip her arm, then retracting his fingers quickly.  “I really think I can help.”

Cassie raised her eyebrow, and made a snap decision.  They had no leads.  What did she have to lose?  “Fine.  I’ll meet you at seven.  Come alone.  But so help me, if you’re just wasting my time, then I will have you arrested.  Got it?”

He nodded.  “Cassie, you won’t regret this.”

She scowled at him.  “That’s Detective to you,” she said, then turned on her heel to take another look at their victim.

“Why was Andrew Barnes in here?” Clancy asked suspiciously when she re-entered the bedroom.

So that was the man’s name.  Was she the only one who didn’t know him?  “Snooping around, I suppose.  Is he a good reporter?” she asked.

“Only the best there is.  He lives for his work.  Bet you can sympathize, huh, Cass?”

*****

At a quarter to seven that evening, Cassie stood across the street from Ronnie’s bar, the grimiest and most unpopular dive in town, waiting for Barnes to enter before her.  She watched him show up just as early, peering around before opening one of the double doors and disappearing inside.  She followed him in a few moments later, locating him easily and sliding into the corner booth opposite him.

“You’re early,” Barnes noted without looking up, jotting down some notes in his book.

“Yeah, well I have no time to waste,” she said, twining her fingers on the formica tabletop.  “So, what is this so-called information you have for me?”

Barnes looked up at her and smiled, making his dark features and five o’clock shadow seem all the more attractive.  Cassie pushed away her thoughts and focused on her task.

“I thought we’d have a drink first,” Barnes said, signaling the waitress.

“I never drink on the job,” Cassie replied curtly.

Barnes laughed and leaned forward to meet her halfway across the tabletop.  The sole lightbulb suspended from the ceiling illuminated his eyes.  “Do you ever relax?” he asked, the waitress reappearing with his amber drink.

“Not when a murderer is running loose on my watch.”

Barnes nodded approvingly.  “You’re very devoted to your work.  Detective Samson could learn a thing or two from you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged.  “Samson is often more concerned with covering his own ass than he is finding the perps responsible for their crimes.”

Cassie bristled.  “I didn’t come here for you to slander my mentor, Barnes.”

“Call me Drew.  And I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.”

“I’m interested in other truths, Drew.  Why don’t you tell me what you know so I can go find this bastard and lock him up before he kills anyone else?”

Drew paused as though reflecting on her demands.  Then he spoke, his voice a conspirational whisper.

“I saw Vivianne the same night she was murdered.”

Cassie paused.  So Barnes was his own informant.  Why hadn’t he reported this to the police?

“I know what you’re thinking, and I didn’t murder her.”

“Real easy to believe you, Barnes, when you’re hiding information from the police during a crucial manhunt.”

“If you don’t believe me, arrest me,” Barnes challenged, his eyes darkening.  For a moment, Cassie stared right back at him, unflinching, a pro at this game.  So was he, apparently, looking directly into her eyes and waiting for her to prod him to continue.

“Where was Vivianne when you saw her?”

“Right here, at Ronnie’s.  Which I found strange, because she seemed to me to be more of an uptown girl.”

“Was she with anyone?”

“Yes.”  Cassie’s blood boiled.  He continued, “she was with a very tall man, shadowy features, light skin.  Couldn’t really see much– the lighting isn’t generous here,” he said, gesturing around to emphasize his point.

“Any scars or tattoos of any kind?  Markings on his clothes?”

Drew shook his head.  “None.  He wore all black.  But everyone seemed afraid of him for some reason, and I couldn’t figure out why.  Vivianne sure wasn’t.  He didn’t drink anything, but she had a few gin and tonics.  They spoke for awhile, then left the bar at around one o’clock in the morning.”

Cassie knew by the tone of his voice that there was more.  She said nothing, her gaze on his, reading the tiniest movements in his facial muscles, but she detected nothing but the truth from Drew.

“You followed them, didn’t you?” she murmured, more of a statement than a question, since she would have done the exact same thing.

“I needed to know… there was something strange about him.  I watched them go in, and saw him leave an hour later.”

Cassie waited.  “There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

Barnes sighed, turning his palms upward on the tabletop.  “The man… left through the window.”

“You mean he climbed down the fire escape?”

Barnes shook his head.  “He jumped out the window.”

“That’s impossible.  Vivianne lived on the seventh floor.”

“I watched him do it.  He landed on his feet.  Then ran so fast, I could barely even see him, but it felt like an enormous gust of wind hit me in the face.”

Cassie tried to absorb what Drew was telling her.  Everything about him was honest, and the fact that Vivianne’s window had been open when they’d found her body lent credibility to his story.

“I’ll need you to come over to the police station to try to identify–”

Barnes interrupted her, shaking his head.  “You don’t understand, Cassie.”  This time she didn’t bother to correct him.  “The murderer… he isn’t human.”

Cassie’s face lit up in a slow smile.  “That’s priceless, truly,” she mocked.  “You expect me to believe that a man jumped out a seventh storey window and emerged unscathed, only to practically disappear into thin air?”

Barnes nodded.  “I know of one mythical creature that could be responsible for exsanguination.”

“Wait a second.  You honestly think a supernatural being murdered those women?  This isn’t a horror movie.  This is real life.”

“What you know of it.”  Barnes drained his glass.  “Come with me.  I have something to show you.”  He stood up and waited for Cassie to do the same.

“Why should I believe you?  So far you’re not giving me anything to work with, Barnes.”

“Well, Detective, do you want to find him, or not?”

*****

“I don’t know if I can stretch my imagination to encompass the idea of the supernatural,” Cassie told him when they were in her unmarked car, him riding shotgun, driving to his apartment.

“I know how you feel.  Like you, I live my life by facts.”

Cassie smiled.  “A reporter’s job is to fuse fact with fiction to control, conceal or distort the truth.”

“Mostly true.  But I’m an investigative journalist.  Haven’t you read any of my work?”  He looked over to her, and she could feel his eyes burning into her.

“Ah, the ego question.”  There was silence, and Cassie glanced at Drew, who was looking right back at her, waiting for her response.  “A few of them.”

“You actually had time to read my articles?  You must not be working as hard as everyone thinks you are.”

Despite herself, Cassie laughed.  “I work plenty hard, thanks.  It’s hell to move up the ranks when you don’t have meat swinging between your legs.”  Why was she telling him this?  It was wholly unprofessional, and they were discussing a murder.  Almost twelve hours ago she’d been standing in the same room as a dead woman.  Her third corpse in three days.

“As far as I can tell, Detective, you’ve got balls of steel.  It’s actually very sexy.”

Was he serious?  Cassie had been described in many ways, but most men were too intimidated by her directness and her ambition to consider those attributes sexy.  She didn’t respond, not wanting to reinforce him thinking of her in that way.  But she had to admit, a compliment like that, coming from a man as enticing as Drew, made her smile involuntarily.

“So, we’re going to your apartment so you can prove that this serial killer is in fact a vampire?”

“Correct.”

Cassie pulled up to Drew’s building upon his signal.  “I hope you’re wrong.”

“For our sake, I wish I was, too.”

*****

When Drew opened the front door to his apartment, Cassie was surprised.  His personal space wasn’t enormous, but he made the most of it. Full bookshelves lined the walls, a small couch and a comfortable-looking reading chair spaced out in the living room.  Some of his belongings were strewn about- a dog-eared copy of The Catcher in the Rye, a few empty canisters of film, the top flash for his camera.  Cassie processed every element of the place to gain insight into Drew’s life.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, disappearing into a small room next to his bedroom.  She saw the diplomas on one wall, along with a variety of literary awards, impressed that he hadn’t boasted about them earlier.

“Take a look for yourself,” Drew said, coming back into the living room and standing beside Cassie, handing her an enlarged black and white photograph.  It showed the outside of Vivianne’s building, a darkish shadow stretching from the seventh floor window to the pavement below.

“You can’t see anything,” she pointed out.  “How do I know it’s not a cat, or just a weird trick of light?”

“He was moving too quickly for me to catch him on film.  That’s why it’s just a dark blur.”  Drew moved a bit closer to her, and as he pointed out the shadow in the image, his finger brushed against hers, and she jumped.

“Are you afraid of me, Detective?”

Cassie narrowed her eyes at him, trying to conceal her blush.  “Hardly,” she replied. She was simply caught off guard, unsure of how to react to Drew, the first man in ages to show an interest in her.  Cassie realized they were standing only inches apart, his arm brushing against hers.  She was reminded of her sensuous dream earlier this morning, and how suddenly and disappointingly it had ended.

Cassie stepped back and tried to focus.  Drew was unnerving her, getting her off track.  She had a murderer to catch.  She should be filled with resolve to go out and serve justice.  But now, Cassie felt somewhat relaxed, distanced from the chaotic world beyond these walls.  Here she was cocooned in the warmth of Drew’s presence, feeling disturbingly comfortable, especially since he was a pseudo stranger to her.

“If he is what you say he is, how will we find him?” she asked, sitting on his couch.  Drew came to sit right next to her, his thigh brushing up against hers.  She felt a jolt of electricity run between them, and when she turned to look at him, Drew staring back at her with the same open lust that she felt.

“We have to think like him.  Trace his patterns.  See where he goes.  Maybe these women had something in common that only he could detect.”

“Like what?” Cassie asked, finding it difficult to think like a being who thirsted for human blood.  She had a flashback of her dream, the man disappearing between her legs, biting into her tender thigh… she’d taken it as eroticism, but now it seemed ominous.

Drew shrugged.  “I don’t know,” he admitted.  “Their blood type?”  They both laughed.  “I know this sounds ridiculous.  I’m just saying it’s possible.”

Cassie was getting fed up with possibilities.  She wanted answers, evidence, anything leading her closer to finding whoever–whatever– was responsible for these women’s macabre deaths.  She would have to outsmart him somehow, because she was surely no match on a physical level.  But how?  Cassie was exhausted, having functioned on overdrive these last few days.  She felt like she deserved just a few more minutes away from it all, before heading to the station to explain everything to Samson.  Though chances were, he’d never believe her about Drew’s story and would laugh at the photograph.

“Cassie?” Drew asked tentatively, as though unsure whether or not she would kill him for not calling her Detective.  “Will you let me help you find him?”

She smiled.  “Are you a vampire hunter?” she asked jokingly, realizing how absurd it all sounded.

Drew grinned back.  “I can be.  I just need a trusty sidekick who’s on the right side of the law to keep me in check.”  He raised an eyebrow and winked.  “Looking for a new job?”

Cassie laughed.  “Sorry to disappoint, but I am no one’s sidekick.”

“Oh really?” Drew leaned on the back of the sofa, turned to her, his thigh pressed up against hers.  She felt her body respond to his touch, even when her mind was yelling at her to stay on track, and get back to work.  “You like calling all the shots, don’t you?”

Cassie shrugged.  “I usually like to be in charge,” she admitted. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” Drew replied.  Cassie felt the heat of Drew’s body emanating in the air between them.  She breathed in his scent, and felt her entire demeanor improve, sighing deeply.  His eyes were intent on hers, making her feel naked beneath his gaze.  She found herself reaching out to touch the side of his cheek, her fingertips brushing against the slight stubble on his jaw.  The contact stirred up something deep within Cassie that she’d been denying for too long.

“It’s nice to be out of control sometimes,” Drew whispered as her fingers swept over the soft skin of his neck.  He reached up and traced the curve of her face, the outline of her lips, making Cassie sigh against his fingertips.  Suddenly his mouth was on hers, gentle and warm, and Cassie’s thoughts fogged over, her pulse racing wildly.

She met his kisses eagerly, exploring his mouth with her tongue, letting him do the same.  Drew lowered her onto the couch, the feel of a man’s body on top of hers awakening parts of Cassie that she’d thought she’d lost.  Her thighs parted for him, and he eased against her, unable to disguise the extremely hard bulge at the front of his jeans.  Cassie didn’t know what had gotten into her, but her body seemed to need something in her, too.

Drew breathed against her neck and ear, making her squirm with the sensitivity of it.  His large, rough hands explored her slender figure and she wrapped her legs around him to press him closer against her.  Then his fingers moved to the fabric of her long-sleeved, button-down shirt, preparing to unbutton it.

“Wait!” Cassie cried out, her unconscious resurfacing.  Drew stopped and looked back down at her, stroking her hair with surprising affection.  “I don’t know if I can do this,” she began, trying to ease herself up off the couch, struggling to fight her overwhelming urges.

“If you didn’t want to, you would never have started to touch me,” Drew whispered with a slight smile.  “Give in to yourself, Cass.”

Cassie paused, unsure of how her body would react to the first man to touch her since her the divorce.  She watched Drew start to undo the buttons of her shirt, one by one, hesitating after each in case she objected.  A flush spread over her body, and her hands roved over his back, beneath the fabric of his shirt, surprised by his heat.  Then he carefully removed her Beretta, which was tucked into her pants, placing it heavily on the coffee table.

Her shirt now unbuttoned, Drew pulled away each side with deliberate slowness, his eyes absorbing her bare flesh.  His eyes swept over her, and Cassie felt more vulnerable than ever.

“You’re beautiful, Cassie,” he breathed, bringing his lips to hers again.  His fingers traced the scars on her belly– a knife wound from trying to break up a drunken bar fight, a thin white line from her appendectomy, a bullet wound from a busted stakeout.  Her curiosity and relentless pursuit of justice often got her mixed up in nasty business.  Letting Drew see her body was more than just revealing herself to him– she was letting him take a peek into her life, and that was more intimate than pure nakedness.

Cassie sat up at a slight angle to remove her shirt, her small, round breasts still encased in the cups of her white bra.  Drew reached behind her and unclasped it with surprising efficiency, letting her breasts fall free, her tiny nipples already hard.  She felt him moan deeply as he drank in the sight of her, the undulating throb between her thighs intensifying.

She tugged upwards on his t-shirt, pulling it off and tossing it onto the floor.  She ran her hands over the hard planes of his exposed chest, tracing the small tattoo above his heart, large initials that read K.B. in old English Script.

“My brother,” Drew responded to her unasked query, his eyes darkening slightly.  So both their bodies told a story of the pain they’d endured, still only revealing the surface of their true anguish.  If only momentarily, they could help each other forget.  The remaining threads of her resistance snapped, and she melted into Drew.  His lips lowered to her breasts, cupping them tracing the outlines of her pink nipples.  Cassie squirmed beneath him, his lips taking each bud in turn and sucking gently.  Pleasure shot through her core and pooled between her thighs.  His mouth traced the soft line of her belly, pausing to kiss each of her visible scars, as he began unbuttoning her pants.

Drew’s fingers slipped into the waistband of her panties, discovering the intensity of her arousal, rubbing her gently with her own wetness as he gazed back up at her.  In one swift movement, Drew lifted her, pulling her pants down her legs, followed by her panties.  Cassie felt his hot breath at the apex of her thighs, and she flashed back to her dream that morning.  Before her mind could start up again, Drew’s mouth descended on her secret, silken lips, glistening with moisture.

Cassie’s breath evaded her as Drew’s lips drew out her pleasure, gently probing her opening with his fingers.  Her hands buried in his hair, and her hips rose to meet his knowing touch.  She watched as he teased her with his tongue, her lust mounting rapidly.  She was filled with an overwhelming need for him, and pulled him up toward her by his hair.

She tasted herself on his lips when he kissed her, sweeter than she expected.  Cassie reached down and unbuckled his jeans, her knuckles grazing his bulge.  Drew groaned, standing up from the couch briefly to pull them off.  He ran her hands over her supple thighs and knelt between them, staring down at her.  Cassie took his pulsating erection into her hands, stroking and squeezing him, admiring his thickness, the heat of his naked flesh.

Drew groaned as she touched him, eager to taste him and fully savor his beauty.  Instead, he kept her on her back, taking her arms and bringing them up over her head, prodding her slick opening with his engorged head.  Cassie gasped as he pushed into her, stretching her out from the inside, easing slowly into her, their eyes fixated on each other.  Her legs wound around his hips as he buried himself into her completely, filling her with every inch of his masculinity.

The slight pain invited more of Cassie’s pleasure as Drew plunged into her.  They moved together, her hips arching up to meet him, Drew’s mouth covering her neck, his hands reaching beneath her to grasp her derrière and pull her closer to him, pushing deeper into her.  Cassie’s heart raced as

all the sensations magnified and flooded her.  She moaned, a primeval sound that got louder as Drew dove into her with increased urgency.  Cassie cried out, her body tensing as her climax gripped her, shook her, exploded within her.  He drew out every spasm as she clenched him tightly inside, her body going limp as she struggled to regain her breath.

Drew lifted her effortlessly onto his lap for her to straddle him, her breasts pushed into his face.  As though compelled by an unseen force, her pelvis rolled into him, taking him as deeply as she could into her.  Drew’s large hands grabbed her hips, sucking and biting on her nipples, drawing out her moans, inviting the heat inside of her to seethe again.

“Cassie,” he murmured from between her breasts, gripping her tightly to him and rising up from the couch without warning.  She looped her legs around him as he forcefully pushed her up against the wall.  Cassie sucked and bit on his bottom lip, making him groan and plunge into her almost violently.  Her short fingernails dug into his shoulders, her breasts crushed against his hard chest.  He pumped into her mercilessly, both of them releasing guttural cries that filled the space of his apartment.

Drew brought her arms up above her head, his other arm supporting her from beneath.  Buoyed by his strength and his desire for her, Cassie grew lightheaded again, allowing herself to be blanketed by his heat, a thin sheen of sweat forming between them, causing them to slide against each other slightly.  Cassie was weakened with pleasure, her head dropping back against the wall, her thighs tightening like a vise around Drew’s waist.

His mouth dipped into the hollow of her throat, skimming the quickening pulse of her neck, his teeth biting into her as he dove deeper, faster, harder.  Cassie came undone, her toes curling with her orgasm, her juices coating the length of Drew’s erection, easing his thrusts.  Then his muscles tensed, and Cassie felt him pulsate and explode within her, squeezing him from the inside, both of them breathing heavily against each other.

When Cassie opened her eyes, she noticed the rain pattering the window in front of her from across the room.  She could swear she glimpsed a dark face, a pair of burning red eyes peering at her through the glass.  A jagged bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, ripping through the darkness.  She blinked, trying to clear her vision, but as soon as she did, the shadow was gone.