“Hey, man, you got a light?” Another young man sidled up to him with a cigarette in his mouth. Francis glared at him, but when the kid wasn’t sent running by the sight of him, he reached in to his pocket and flicked a flame from his lighter. The young man leaned in and lit his cigarette. “Thanks, man.” He turned to leave and just as he did, he looked back. “Oh, and cool contacts!” A low and barely audible growl emanated from somewhere deep in the back of Francis’s throat. This city was going to prove a test of his patience.
Chapter 2
Francis found himself to be much more at home in the seclusion of his penthouse suite at the hotel. The staff had insisted on furnishing him with a doorman who would also double as a butler, but with one look, Francis had sent him running. It was of no consequence to Francis anyway, he much preferred to be alone. The companionship of mortals was tiring and for the most part it invited far too many questions.
Walking over to the panoramic window, Francis lit another cigarette and looked out over the city. He regretted that he had chosen New York as his first destination, it was far from the home that he was used to and he found himself feeling homesick already. His choice had been a practical one however. He had heard from many sources that New York was a melting pot of sorts, a gathering place of a large group of women who were accessible and easily impressed by what they referred to as the ‘goth scene.’ Francis was still a little unsure of what the ‘goth scene’ was, but from what he understood, it was a group of people who seemed to emulate what they thought was a vampire lifestyle. He had yet to observe this phenomena for himself, but the idea of it intrigued him and it was possible that it would provide easy pickings for the woman he was looking for. He planned to take to the city after sundown, but first, he needed to cleanse off that mortal smell. After the fifteen hour journey, Francis could smell nothing on his skin but the scent of human sweat and it made him ill.
The large rain-shower shower head shot the pounding water on to Francis’s pale white skin in a rhythmic percussion. He closed his eyes as he leaned back his head and let the water bathe his skin. He had to admit that his own drafty abode lacked such luxuries. Bringing his hands up to his face he massaged the warm water in to every pore before leaning forward and opening his eyes once more. He listened to the water drop heavily on the top of his head and basked in the warm steam that surrounded him.
“It seems we have found something to write home about.” He said to himself as he unscrewed the cap of a small bottle of shower gel and brought it to his nose. He sniffed it and shrugged his shoulders. It wasn’t too much of a pungent odor and the perfume was certainly much more appealing than the stench of human sweat. Lathering up the gel in his hands, he ran his hands smoothly over every rippling muscle on his body. As the small clear bubbles washed away, Francis looked down and saw the throbbing rod of his cock. Momentarily, the thought of self-satisfaction crossed his mind, however, knowing that he was taking to the streets in just a few hours, he resisted. Instead, he rinsed off the rest of the soap, and shut off the water. As he stepped out of the shower, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, his thick cock still standing erect. Yes, he was going to find himself a woman tonight and whether she was the one or not, he was going to satisfy his hunger for carnal pleasure. It had been long enough and his cock was hungry for its own conquest. He couldn't possibly put that off any longer. He was growing tired of his own company and while he had his own select resource at home in Bran to take care of his ‘dry spells,’ out here in New York he didn't trust such things.
Still wrapped in his towel, Francis walked out to the bedroom where there stood a wheeled trolley on which was a bottle of champagne, two glasses and a bowl of strawberries. He looked suspiciously over at the door. Someone had been in his room while he had been in the shower. Someone had come in to his room without his permission. Francis could feel his blood beginning to boil. If there was one thing he didn’t tolerate it was the invasion of his privacy. Storming over to the door, he flung it open. The two young women who sat at the concierge desk in the hall looked at him wide eyed.
“Someone was in my room!” He snapped. The first of the girls lip began to tremble. The second tried to steady herself by sitting up straight in her chair.
“Mr. Holmes?” She said. Francis exhaled loudly, a deep hissing at the back of his throat.
“I SAID SOMEONE WAS IN MY ROOM!” This time he bellowed so loudly that his voice echoed off the marble walls. The first of the two girls ducked under the desk and the second blinked rapidly.