People moved back and forth, their outfits forming a colorful sea. Glasses clinked, paper blow-horns sqawked, and balloons popped all around. Somewhere in the room, Auld Lang Syne was chortled by patrons who'd had one too many. Standing alone, I stared at the wide screen TV in the bar's corner. The big silver ball in Times Square had made it's descent, a new year had begun. Suddenly, cool air brushed my face, sending wisps of hair tickling across my shoulders. Looking across the room, I saw him, felt his ice-blue eyes on me. Each step he took in my direction, I trembled. I'd seen him before, but only in dreams. Now, here he was--he'd come for me. Finally, he stood at my side, and I noisily sucked in a lungful of air. His arms reached out, gathered me against him. His face blotted out the lights as his lips came close to mine.
"You knew I'd come for you."
One word, soft, weak with desire, slipped past my lips, "Please..."
"You belong to me," he whispered.
His mouth captured mine, the points of his teeth pierced my lip, and he sucked the spot greedily. When his tongue nudged for entrance, I opened like a flower, and tasted the blood he'd licked from my lip.
The boistrous crowd disappeared--there was only me and him.