69 INCHES OF STEEL (3 page)

Serena watched Jonathon’s mother disappear into the kitchen then turned back to Jonathon. She rested a hand on his knee. “What’s it like being famous?”

Jonathon smiled. It was wonderful and he knew it. He looked at the petite hand on his knee wishing it was on his cock then up at the young lady who it belonged to. “The best thing about it is the freedom that comes with the money made by
being
famous. I can go wherever I want, whenever I want.” That wasn’t quite true. “Unless of course I have a book tour to do, then I have to be somewhere I don’t always want to be, like hotel rooms instead of home, and television and radio stations instead of my office writing the next big thing. It’s a pretty small price to pay though considering all the good things that come with being famous. Fast cars. Holidays. Big houses.” Pretty girls. “It’s nice of course to come home to Bellingen sometimes and just be me though. Plain old Jonathon Steel, the little boy who grew up here and went to school here.”

Serena smiled. “And who loves his mother and her home cooked meals.”

And who had his heart broken by his drunken father who climbed behind the wheel of a car when he should’ve caught a cab.

Jonathon smiled. “Nothing beats a home cooked meal, that’s for sure. Not even dinner at the finest of five-star restaurants. The décor in those places is wonderful, but the food isn’t all its cracked up to be. After all, food is food no matter
which
way you toss it. Believe me, when you’re paying big what you’re
really
paying for is the ambiance, the chance to eat where most people can’t afford to. It’s like a game that only the rich can play. The game is fun of course, and I wouldn’t give it up for the world, but like in all games there are those who can’t play for shit and rely fully on the size of their ego to get by. In the case of these guys it’s the size of their wallets that matter most, to them anyway, and to others, but not as many as they would like to think. They tend to forget that for every one of them there are a hundred others with a hell of a lot more money than them. Not to mention a lot more talent, and talent will always outrun money. Not that talent is the be all and end all, of course. Timing plays a big part in it too. So does luck. And sometimes, every now and then, it’s just your time.”

His father realized too late that he had crossed the white line into oncoming traffic and a tear escaped his eye as the front end of his car crashed at high speed into the front end of a car being driven by a teenage girl and then they were both dead. Perhaps, as Jonathon said, it was just their time.

Serena slipped her hand into Jonathon’s and gave it a quick squeeze. “What made you want to write?”

Jonathon shrugged. “I don’t really know to be honest. I’ve always been creative, that’s for sure. Always painted or drawn or told jokes and stories of one place or person or another. One day I sat in front of a computer my dad bought me and started to type. Before I knew it I’d written a few thousand words about a young boy who’s turned into a vampire by the one person he loves and trusts more than anyone else in the world - his dad. When I read them back I knew I had something special. A good story on one hand and a place to release my innermost thoughts and feelings on the other.” He thought in that moment about his father and he thought about the computer on which he had written everything from day one. Hundreds and thousands of words on that one machine brought home by his father for no particular or apparent reason, not even because he loved his son, at least as far as Jonathon knew. He just brought it home and gave it to him. Jonathon had updated it several times of course, adding more power to an already powerful machine, but deep down it was still the same machine it always was and it was Jonathon’s good luck charm, if there was any such thing. He would write his stories about vampires and ghoulies and ghosties with bleeding hearts on it until it simply wouldn’t write anymore, and then he  would fix it and then he would write some more on top of that. The computer was the one good thing he remembered about his father. Maybe that’s the
real
reason he had held onto it as long as he had. After all, there wasn’t much else about his father
worth
holding onto. At least, nothing he could remember because even if there was it was taken from him that fateful night when two worlds collided in a way he could never have imagined.

He turned to Serena. “What about you? What does a beautiful and seemingly innocent country girl want out of life?”

Serena smiled. A beautiful and seemingly innocent country girl. “I want a man who will treat me right. One who will love me for all the right reasons and leave behind the bad ones for someone else to worry about.” She ran her hand along Jonathon’s forearm. It was strong without being
too
strong and soft without being feminine. She looked into his eyes. She could see the fire that burned bright for a future much better than the past. “I want someone successful. Not because of what comes with
being
successful, as nice as I’m sure that is, but because with success comes proof of that person’s desire to be more than they once were, and there’s nothing sexier in my opinion than someone who wants to be more than they once were, except perhaps someone who already is.”

Jonathon’s heart beat at an almighty rate, pumping blood to all the right places. He saw in his mind’s eye Serena dropping her clothes to the floor, exposing her naked body to him. Her breasts were small and pert, her nipples strong and erect. She tossed her dark hair to one side and flashed her brilliant blue eyes at him in the hope she might tug at his heart as well as his cock. He reached out to her and stroked her bare skin. Goosebumps were raised all over her body. She closed her eyes and sighed. He leaned into her and pressed his lips to hers. She reached her arms around his waist and slipped her hands under his shirt. She caressed his bare skin and she moaned as he kissed her neck. They pulled themselves closer to each other and Serena felt the hardness of his cock against her. She danced against it, rubbing herself up and down the throbbing shaft that was aching to enter her. She moved her hands to the front of his jeans and pulled down the zip to release his cock so she could touch it and feel it and suck it. She licked it up and down before taking it into her mouth. She sucked it gently at first before speeding up the pulsating and rhythmic motion of sucking his throbbing seven inches of man-muscle to the point where he would surely come if she didn’t stop. She climbed to her feet and made Jonathon lay back on the bed which he did with a child-like grin on his face because he liked sex and each time was as good as the first. He watched her run her hand between her legs and play with her pussy. He stroked his cock as she moaned and groaned and he watched her pussy juices drip gently down the inside of her thighs. For several long and glorious moments she watched him stroke his cock and for several long and glorious moments she imagined him sliding it into her pussy, making love to her in a way no other man had or ever would.

Serena continued. “When we moved into the house across the road, I had no idea that your mother was in fact
your
mother. I just knew she was a lovely lady whose son had made good with his writing. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather when I found out who her son was. I mean, I have all your books and every magazine your stories have been in and I . . .  I . . .” The words just wouldn’t come, but she was sure
she
would if given half a chance.

Jonathon looked at her and smiled. “It’s okay, and thank you.” He never tired of people’s admiration for his ability as a writer and of his work. “I do have a question for you, though. What made you come here to Bellingen of all places? I mean, it’s a nice enough town and everything, but it’s not exactly a thriving metropolis.”

“My dad’s a truck driver,” Serena replied. “He’s always worked hard and he’s done well for himself, and us, and at the age of sixty decided it was time to slow down a bit. As well as slowing down a bit, he decided on a fresh start in a new town, so he pinned a virtual tail on a donkey and we ended up here. He’s got a bit of work when he’s wanted it and needed it, though he hasn’t needed it very often. I think most times he just likes to work and it’s good for him anyway to get out for a day or two every now and then. It’s also good for my mom. I think he’d drive her crazy if he was home all the time.”

Jonathon wondered if
Serena
needed it. He decided to find out. “Would you like to go for a walk after supper?”

What Serena
really
wanted was to go for a drive in the silver BMW parked out front and also to fuck the living daylights out of the guy sitting next to her, but a walk in the cool night air would do for starters. “Why wait?”

Jonathon smiled. He went to the kitchen and draped an arm over his mother’s shoulder as she made a fruit platter and a pot of tea. “Mom, do you mind if Serena and I go for a walk? We’ll have supper when we get back.”

His mother smiled as she sliced the rockmelon into small pieces. “Of course not. You two enjoy yourselves.” She carried on slicing the rockmelon. Jonathon kissed her on the cheek and went back out to the lounge. After all his near misses, his mother so hoped Serena might be the one.

CHAPTER FIVE

S
erena
and Jonathon walked along the side of the narrow road arm in arm. The moon was shining bright and the cool night air was beginning to chill. It was Jonathon’s kind of night. It refreshed his sense of everything good and allowed the magic inside to ignite and come to life. Ideas were flowing thick and fast and the ones he could use he would store for future reference in a two draw filing cabinet he had created in the back of his mind. The ones he
couldn’t
use, or didn’t want to, would fall through the holes into the nether regions of outer space for someone else to grab hold of and perhaps make better use of. Those ideas were few and far between.

One of the ideas that
did
stick that night was for a short story that would involve his favorite fair, vampires. Not the Twilight stuff where the vampires sparkled like pansies in the light of the sun. Not these guys. Like the Elizabeth Bathory of his soon-to-be-published novel, these guys would kill as vampires do, and violently, but they would love there victims first. They would romance them and gain their trust. Then as they were about to make love to them they would sink their fangs into their lovers’ throats and drink their blood until they had had their fill and then they would move on to their next victim.

“Have you ever been overseas, Jonathon?” Serena asked. She was looking up at the moon. “I’d love to go overseas.”

Jonathon turned his thoughts back to his soon-to-be-published book about four boys and a Lady Vampire he had fashioned on the most brutal and bloodthirsty woman of all-time. She was sexy as all hell, in real life and in his story, and while she flirted outrageously with the oldest of the four boys she never made love with him, or any of the other boys for that matter. She wanted to of course, but vampires don’t do that. They didn’t need to because they were dead already and the dead don’t have sex. They only prey on the weak and vulnerable by gaining there trust then sinking their fangs into their lovers’ throats and drinking their blood until they had had their fill and then they would move on to their next victim.  “I’ve been to England a couple of times,” he replied. “Always for work though. Never for play.” He didn’t do much at all these days for play, though he had to admit that what he
did
do was usually a whole heap of fun. 

Serena stepped in front of Jonathon and threw her arms around him. “Where would you like to go? I mean, if you could go anywhere in the world for no particular reason, just to go there because you wanted to and with no restrictions on your time or talent, where would it be?”

As Jonathon held Serena close to him, he thought about the Castle Cachtice in Slovakia, home to the beautiful and more-powerful-than-God Elizabeth Bathory, the Hungarian Countess Jonathon had come to know by way of his research as if he had been married to her for fifty years or more. “I want to visit a castle in Slovakia. One with a great history and lived in by a woman the history books whose pages are stained with blood would most likely rather forget. And one that I most likely will
never
forget.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. He could taste the blood of young girls on her lips. He opened his eyes and looked into hers. There was an undeniable evil in them but as much as he wanted to he couldn’t turn away. He was mesmerized by what he saw in them and even more by what she had become as a result of what she was. “Why did you do it, Elizabeth? Why did you kill them?” to which Elizabeth replied, “Because the thrill of the kill, Jonathon, far outweighed the consequence of being caught, even if the consequence was death.” And it was. Elizabeth was jailed in her castle for four years, living in the darkness of her cell and living on nothing more than bread and water until her body could take no more and it passed away. It was buried in the Bathory family crypt and forgotten about until a young author wondered what would happen if four young boys would do as four young boys have always done, take it upon themselves to visit the dead late at night and bring one of them back to life. The results were as bloody in Jonathon’s mind as any other he had ever seen.

A gust of wind rushed by and thunder roared inside Jonathon’s head and he let Serena go and fell to the ground. His head hurt and his vision was blurred. Voices called out to him. Young girls whose bodies were being torn apart by a woman possessed by the Devil. They were screaming out to him now, wanting him to help them, wanting him to save them. But he couldn’t help them.  And he couldn’t save them. Their blood pooled upon the cold ground and the Countess continued to bathe in it.