Jane entered the party tentatively, expecting the worst. Her cousin Richard had always thrown terrible parties. His old Victorian had been the scene of many tedious shindigs where college kids got noisily sloshed, set things on fire and passed out on the front lawn. When Richard had called her in mid October, she'd told him she already had plans for Halloween night. It hadn't been a lie: Jane's friends were already engaged in all sorts of debauchery at their favorite erotic club. However, she'd promised Richard she'd make a brief appearance at his party.
She hadn't seen Richard in a few months; he'd been touring as the new bassist of a gothic post-hardcore band with a serious underground following. Richard had emailed Jane from the road with wild stories about groupies with fangs and the graveyard escapades of his bandmates. When he phoned, he told her he was throwing the band's annual Halloween party at his appropriately spooky two-story home. Jane secretly pitied the rest of the band: If it was going to be as dull as Richard's usual parties—
But it wasn't. She saw that instantly. Entering the foyer was like stepping into the world of a gothic romance novel. The home was transformed, lit by hundreds of candles dripping on mantels and hanging in sconces.
Heavy trance music spread its heartbeat through the wooden rooms as costumed dancers swayed and dipped. She stood mesmerized, watching a cop grinding with a sexy bunny next to two schoolgirls making out with their hands up one another's skirts.
Life on the road had been good for Richard.
Jane shut the heavy door behind her. She wore an exquisitely sexy pirate captain costume, a pink-and-white orgasm of velvet, lace and ruffles. Jane had curled her long blonde hair and topped it with a pink pirate hat; its long black ribbons looked striking against the pale gleam of her hair. She'd added black stiletto boots with pink brocade bootcuffs and as she paused in the foyer she noticed party guests staring appreciatively at the way the lacy costume and sexy shoes accentuated her long, tanned legs.
Jane wandered further into the party. In the dim light, she could just distinguish figures kissing passionately in every available nook and cranny in the old house.
Heading toward the kitchen for a drink, she had to squeeze by two beautiful girls making out in the hallway. The girl dressed as a nurse was pinned against the wall by the one in a two-piece kitten costume, who had one hand on the nurse's breast and the other under her skirt. The kitten's eyes were locked on the nurse, whose face was flushed and sparkling with pleasure. Jane made a mental note to check back on the two girls later and see if they could use another pair of hands.
Entering the dark kitchen, Jane was amused to see the old familiar keg sitting on the counter, the sole relic of Richard's previous parties. Luckily, the keg was surrounded by liquor bottles and mixers, and Jane quickly made herself a strong rum-and-coke before wandering back into the heart of the party.
She walked into the guest bedroom and stopped short: a woman wearing nothing but a fringed cowgirl skirt was preparing to mount a beautiful, muscular man lying on the bed wearing a barbarian's studded collar. Her fringed top and his studded leather skirt had been flung to the ground and as Jane watched, the woman straddled the barbarian and lowered herself slowly onto his waiting cock. Moving her skirt out of the way, she ground herself onto him. He reached for her hips and grasped them firmly, guiding the cowgirl up and down on his dick as she threw her head back and moaned.
Jane's amusement was quickly overshadowed by hot and impatient lust. She was about to offer her services to the sexy couple on the bed when someone touched her shoulder. Jane turned and saw a gorgeous vampire with black hair, olive skin and strangely fiery green eyes. The man smiled and Jane's heart flipped—this was the heartthrob lead guitarist in Richard's band.
He was tall and very slender, although finely toned from hours of onstage exertion. He had the musician's signature scruffy goatee and Jane could just see the tentacles of tribal tattoos peering through the white lace at his neck. He wore a fitted white shirt with silver cufflinks, tight black slacks ending in leather boots and a flowing velvet cape with red satin lining. His features were delicate and finely chiseled, from his high, intelligent cheekbones to his gently sloping nose. The man gestured deviously to the couple fucking on the bed.
"Ever been to a party like this before?" He asked. His voice was deep and rich enough to be heard over the thumping techno. Jane leaned in.
"All the time. Never at Richard's, though. You must have been a very bad influence on him."
The vampire smiled devilishly. "I'm Paul."
"I know." Jane looked back at the couple on the bed, who seemed to be nearing climax. "Is this what your parties are always like?"
"Yes," he said simply. "What's your name?"
"Jane Adams."
"You're related to Richard."
