it. I’d have a night in with my fingers and my imagination. When the bath was ready, I fetched myself a glass of wine, took off my work suit and sank into the warm water. I’ve never been one for bubbles, but I’d poured a generous measure of patchouli oil into the water and the scent filled my nose as I slid down under the water line. A sigh escaped me and I put the working week firmly in the past. If only I had a lover to massage my shoulders. I took a drink of cabernet and put the glass down at the end of the bath. There was no lover, but I could pretend. He’d strip out of his dark clothes, showing me every inch of his deathly pale body. Then he’d kneel behind me at the head of the bath and lay his hands on either side of my neck. I leaned my head to the side as I pictured him rubbing the tension out of me with his strong, elegant fingers. When he’d kneaded my flesh into submission, he’d rise and step into my bath. I raised my hand to my breast, stroking my wet skin the way that he would. With my other hand, I parted the lips of my cunt and imagined that it was his finger probing gently inside me. My breath came faster and I told myself it was his sighs I was hearing. It was his finger and thumb that took hold of my clit – not mine. My pussy felt swollen and desperate for more. My hands would have to be enough. A draft blew through the bathroom and the flickering candlelight brought me back to myself. I took my hand from between my legs. Nights spent alone stretch out beyond all laws of physics. I didn’t want to climax too soon and spend the rest of the evening praying for sleep that wouldn’t come. I finished my bath, continuing the game by pretending that my vampire lover was wielding the sponge that washed me clean. In the end, it was the drop in temperature that forced me out of the water. I wrapped myself in a towel and went to the bedroom, turning up the thermostat on the way. There was a chill in the air that lifted the hairs on my arms. It hadn’t been remotely cold before my bath. Sitting at the dressing table, I brushed out my hair as I waited for the temperature to rise. I watched myself in the mirror and tried to appraise my looks the way a man would. I was one of the few women at work to wear her hair long. Maybe they thought it would be seen as a sign of weakness. I didn’t care. I was good at my job and I liked the way my pale brown hair looked when I shook it loose and let it fall down my back. Both of my real lovers had commented on it. One of them had even wrapped his fist in it to pull my head back when we made love. That was something I had filed away in my fantasy collection. It was definitely the sort of thing my vamp would do to me. With all the knots teased out of my hair, I leaned forward and examined my face in the mirror. I didn’t look bad for my age. Full lips that still held on to some of the lipstick I’d put on that morning. Good cheekbones. Pretty brown eyes, or so I’d been told. Unhitching my towel, I stood up to cast an eye over my body. Pleasantly curvy was what sprang to mind. I wasn’t one of those women who fretted about being bigger than the stick girls on the front of magazines. I was average – not overweight, not particularly athletic. Soft and round and inviting. I passed the fuckability test. It wasn’t as if I didn’t get any offers. But none of them were from men who could leave me with two little puncture wounds on the side of my neck. Oh well. I could dream. My thoughts returned to my fantasy vamp and my clit began to tingle. It was warmer again. I didn’t need to worry about getting under the covers. I watched myself run my hands over my body, lingering on my hardening nipples and getting ever closer to my aching pussy. As I slid my fingers over the hair between my legs I caught sight of movement at the window. I snatched up the towel that I’d dropped and drew it around my nakedness, my heart pounding in my throat. Was there someone out