#foxy queue

Masema Dagar was many things; wealthy businessmen, vampire and an amazing dresser. One thing everyone who ever saw him could agree on was that he was just as discerning with his woman as he was with business deals. No two of his lovers ever looked the same but all were as beautiful and talented as a pageant queen. It was well known he didn’t keep them around for a long time and to be one of his ladies was a ticket to a far better life.

At least, that’s what he was like before he met you. You, with your sweet scent and dazzling eyes, had ensnared him completely when you accidentally ran into each other at the antique mall he loved to browse. You were one of the seasonal workers, tasked with helping test the vintage dishware for radioactive paint and properly assess everything that came in before it went to the floor. You looked up to apologize, breath catching at the intense gaze in his eyes, before muttering your apology.

Masema, however, was already picturing what you’d look like in the 1957 Bar Suit from Dior with matching pumps. You were exactly what he was looking for, and mentally he was already moving meetings around so he could take you to his stylist and completely redo your entire wardrobe. He grinned at your wide eyed look, the tips of his fangs peeking out and glinting in the low light of the Edison bulbs illuminating the warehouse. Your sharp intake of breath and the sudden fluttering of your heart didn’t go unnoticed by the man who suddenly needed you to become his and only his. He took your hand, bringing it slowly to his lips to kiss the back of your hand and giving you his most charming smile.

“No need to apologize, little one. I came here looking for something specific and it appears I’ve just found it,” he said smoothly, the timbre of his voice sending shivers down your back in tandem with his fingertips gently rubbing over the veins of your wrists.

If you weren’t already speechless, he may have stolen your breath entirely with that statement. Your head was spinning and you were so lost in his eyes that you forgot you were at work. Attempting to regain some control over yourself and be professional, you cleared your throat awkwardly and went to take your hand back, but he simply tightened his grip and pulled you closer, turning your hand over to inhale your scent along your wrist.

“You smell delicious, little one. Something so sweet must have a name to match. Tell me it,” he spoke in that rich cadence, eyes locking with yours as his mouth watered at the thought of sinking his fangs into your skin. When you stuttered out your name, he tasted it on his tongue and found he liked it far more than he should. He needed no introduction, but he gave you one all the same and you swore he groaned when you spoke his name in your lovely voice.

“A pretty name for a pretty lady, and far too beautiful to be working. Your man should be providing for a little thing like yourself, unless you don’t have one?” He was only asking out of courtesy, he’d already made up his mind you were leaving with him.

As personal as this conversation had quickly become, you found you couldn’t help but indulge. He was alarmingly handsome, charming and seemed wholly focused on you. Sure, he might not keep you for a long time, but it would be a fun one nonetheless.

“Umm, no. I don’t have a…man in my life,” you said quietly, allowing Masema to lead you towards the register where your boss was. He hummed in response, never releasing your hand.