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“On eBay, looking for remainders?” I guessed.
“What if you’re too far away from a store to get a supply? What if the supply is tainted? You need to become more comfortable drinking human blood, feeding from live subjects.” He hushed me when I opened my mouth to protest. “I know how you feel about feeding from humans, but I want you to have the skills you need to survive. Just in case. I want you to be able to hunt on your own.”
“So, I’m like a domesticated bear, and you’re working up to releasing me into the wild?”
“Yes, that’s the worst possible way you could have taken this gesture, thank you,” he muttered, setting the cooler aside.
“Thank you,” I finally said. “I appreciate the fact that you thought of me while you were away.”
“Every spare moment,” he promised, moving in closer for a kiss.
I stopped him. “Are you sure I’m not accused of something? Feeding on senior citizens? Kicking toddlers? Stealing candy from babies?”
He was darkly cute when he was indignant. “It’s not a bad omen every time I come to call.”
“You’re right,” I conceded. “I’m being rude. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
In a very serious tone, he said, “I think we should have sex again.”
“What?” I giggled. I couldn’t help it. Gabriel and I hadn’t been able to “date” per se. Dating a vampire is difficult, even if you are a vampire. I mean, it’s not as if we can go out to dinner like a normal couple. We don’t eat. On the rare occasion that we were both at one of our houses and sitting still, Zeb and Jolene or Andrea or Dick would show up, and our twosome became a group gathering. As much as I loved having a close group of diverse friends who understand my special needs, talk about a bunch of mood killers.
“I think we should have sex again,” he repeated. “I think we’ve reestablished our rapport and friendship. I believe you’re starting to trust me again. I know you want me.”
“That’s kind of presumptuous,” I told him. He wasn’t wrong, but it was still presumptuous.
Obviously irritated by my not jumping him right then and there, he added, “Also, the first time was rather rushed, and I don’t feel that I was able to demonstrate my full range of, er, technique.”
“So, you think we should have Naked Happy Fun Time because I didn’t get to see all of your moves?” I said, barely able to contain a second giggle fit as he backed me against the counter. “You don’t just say something like that. You have to take me out for dinner or something.”
“Here.” He reached into the fridge and pulled out a packet of A-negative. “Drink that.”
I arched an eyebrow at him. “You really don’t understand the concept of modern courtship, do you?”
“Drink it,” he commanded. Humoring him, I popped the top and took a long drink of the smooth, lusciously nutty donated blood. Tasting genuine human blood after months of synthetic always left me a little woozy. Little pinpricks of sensation, nerves firing along my arms and throat, made me lean heavily against the counter to get my bearings.
Gabriel took the packet from my slightly trembling hand. “Now, kiss me.”
“I’m not a light bulb, you can’t just flip a switch and turn me—”
Gabriel gripped my cheeks between his palms and seized my lips, the last syllables of my sentence muffled into his mouth.
“I stand corrected,” I admitted as we backed into the living room.
“Is your aunt here?” he asked, tugging at my T-shirt.
I shook my head. “Hot ghost date.”
“I think—gah!” Distracted by the front closure on my bra, Gabriel had tripped over a footstool and knocked over a side table.
“It might be nice to have sex without breaking anything, what do you say?” I asked, peeking down at him over the edge of the table. Gabriel sat up, rubbing his forehead where my old hard-bound copy of Sense and Sensibility had conked him.
“Haven’t you already read this a few dozen times?” he asked, flipping through the pages. “We’re going to have to have a literary intervention for you.”
“It’s Jane Austen, so I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that,” I said, settling next to him and taking the book from his hands. “You can never read Jane Austen too many times. And this is one of my favorites. She manages to pull a believable happy ending out of what could have been her saddest story. She could have left the Dashwood sisters alone, having learned their lessons from their respective traits. Marianne could have been left alone and ruined by her dramatic, impetuous behavior. Elinor could have taken her quiet dignity to a maiden’s grave. But she gave them the men they wanted or, in Marianne’s case, needed. Austen let both of them have a little bit more than they deserved.”
“I love it when you talk about books,” he murmured against my neck. “It gets you all excited. Quick, tell me your theories about Jane Eyre and sexual repression again.”
My burst of laughter was silenced by the press of Gabriel’s mouth.
