Free Need by Todd Gregory Page A

watching the stripper as I looked around the bar. A shirtless Latino boy carrying several buckets of ice went behind the bar. The other stripper was bouncing his dick inside his yellow bikini for the bemusement of a trio of college girls, who kept squealing and laughing. A guy with tattoos up and down his arms was playing the video poker machine. Five muscular guys were out on the dance floor, their shirts hanging from belt loops as they mindlessly moved their hips to the beat of a song I didn’t recognize.
    For a brief moment I caught a glimpse of a young woman in the corner by the ATM machine, but as my eyes focused on her, she vanished.
    I shook my head and looked around the bar again. I thought I saw her out of the corner of my eye over by the front door, but when I turned my head, she was gone again.
    â€œLooking for someone?” a deep voice purred.
    Startled, I turned my head. It was the stripper. Off the bar he was maybe five foot seven, but he was unbelievably sexy. His smile was infectious—he was absolutely adorable. Even with the shaved head, the big smile made him look boyish. I smiled back at him as he got closer to me than he probably needed to for me to be able to hear him. I could smell him—he smelled like a man, like he’d just worked up a sweat in the gym before coming into the club. “I thought I saw someone I know,” I replied, allowing my hand to brush against his muscular shoulder. His firm, hard flesh felt hot, and I could almost hear his heart beating.
    â€œYou’re really pretty,” he said, taking one of my hands and placing it on his hard ass. He tilted his head to one side, still smiling, and I could see the carotid artery, pulsing in his neck. I looked around and no one was watching—if anyone was looking in our direction, their eyes were focused on his magnificent ass—so I bent my head and slid my teeth into his vein.
    He moaned and moved in closer to me, his big strong hands cupping my ass.
    â€œOh, that feels good, damn, man,” he whispered, going up on his toes and pressing his crotch into mine. His dick was hard, but I didn’t care about that.
    His blood was delicious, satisfying. I kept drinking, allowing my hands to slide down his muscled torso until I was touching his big round hard butt.
    â€œDo you think that’s wise?” a woman’s voice whispered in my head.
    His hands gripped my ass tighter and I could feel his throat vibrating as he moaned.
    And I could see mountains in the background, in the not so far distance, but they weren’t tall mountains, and I knew exactly where we were. Palm Springs. But as I looked around, I didn’t recognize the yard, the pool, anything—and then I realized that this wasn’t one of my memories but one of the dancer’s.
    But when I’d fed from Jared, I hadn’t seen any of his.
    I’d been so blinded by the need that I hadn’t noticed.
    I pulled my mouth away from his neck and quickly nicked my index finger. I rubbed it over the wounds in his neck and they healed, closing until all that was left were two dark spots that could have just been hickeys.
    The way Jared’s were supposed to but hadn’t.
    The stripper swayed a bit as he stood there, the smile still on his face. “Dude, that was intense, ” he said, and I noticed that his dick was hard. A wet spot was spreading where the head rested. He swallowed. “My shift is over at two,” he went on. His weight shifted from one foot to the other. “I mean, if you wanted to meet me here . . .” His voice trailed off.
    I reached over and tweaked his right nipple, and his head ducked down a bit as his eyes closed and a low moan escaped from his throat. “I’d like that,” I said. I meant it when I said it. I could keep Jared locked up in the front room. . . .
    â€œDo you really think that’s a good idea?” The same female voice cooed in my ear. “Isn’t