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It’s amazing how much easier it is to be naked in front of another person when you have a little self-confidence. In order to attract prey, vampires are usually more attractive than they were in life. So I got the high-school bookworm’s Golden Ticket. My skin was clearer. My hair had changed to an actually desirable color found in the brunette spectrum and did what it was supposed to on occasion. My eyes, formerly an unremarkable muddy hazel, were now a clear and compelling hazel. My teeth were whiter. And my chest was in the locked and upright position forevermore. I never had to worry about sagging. If Mama would admit to my being a vampire, even she would have to concede that it seemed to agree with me.
Mama probably wouldn’t have mentioned the boob thing specifically, though.
Emboldened by my newfound confidence, I jumped over the couch and pounced on Gabriel, gleefully ripping at the buttons of his shirt. He was too busy slowly peeling off my socks to object. He grinned madly at my feet.
“What?” I asked, hoping that after all of this, I hadn’t accidentally fallen for a foot fetishist.
“I just never know what color your toenails are going to be,” he said, stroking my instep and kissing my ankle. “Will it be a prim pink? A contemplative cranberry? A playful plum?”
“My toes are like a mood ring. Good to know. Now, I believe you were kissing my ankle in a very pleasant manner. Feel free to continue,” I commanded, wiggling my freshly painted carpals.
“What is that?” he asked, staring with horror at the virulent shade of pulpy peach on my toenails.
“I had to mix three different shades to find a peach that would match Jolene’s bridesmaids’ dresses. I did an experimental test run to see if my body would tolerate the color.”
“Wow,” Gabriel mouthed silently.
“Shut it,” I said, tossing the remnants of his shirt into a wastebasket. He took advantage of this lapse of concentration to pull me onto his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist. I smirked down at him, tucking his hair behind his ears. “How about we try to make it to a bed this time?”
Gabriel didn’t answer, as his mouth was occupied, scraping his fangs gently over the curve of my breast. I loved and hated it when he did that. Loved it because he was teasing me, toying with me, reminding me of every dark pleasure he could inflict on me. Hated it because it reduced my whole world to a square inch of responsive flesh, making me forget everything—pride, sense, the ability to refrain from bizarre birdcall noises. My only defense was winding my fingers through his ink-black hair, pulling his head back, and sucking on his bottom lip.
He groaned into my mouth. “Unfair.”
“All’s fair in—ummph.” I grunted as he smothered my mouth with his and pushed me to my feet.
“You’re wearing too much.” His low voice vibrated across the skin of my throat. He refused to pull his lips away from my skin as he split my old 4-H camp T-shirt down the front and tossed it into the trash with his own shirt. I glared at him.
He shrugged, pulling the bandanna from my head and shaking my hair loose. “All’s fair.”
We were both grinning loopily as we stripped each other, tossing clothes carelessly across the room. Gabriel continued to put my sensitive nerves to good use as he stroked the line of my back with his long fingers.
I never stopped kissing him, deep, sweet, hot kisses that left me confused about where his lips started and mine ended.
One of the drawbacks of living in a Civil War home is knowing that no matter what you do there, it’s already been done before. You’re never the first. Well, I’m pretty sure I’m the first Early to do any of those things on the “grand staircase” once featured in the Half-Moon Hollow Historical Society’s Spring Tour of Homes.
On an unrelated note, I was really glad I’d taken those yoga classes with Andrea.
Without them, I might not have had the strength and flexibility required to balance on the stairs with my arms while Gabriel raised my hips and sank deep inside me. I threw my head back, sighing, contented. How could I have forgotten how good that was? How complete and full he made me feel? I hardly noticed that with each thrust, I landed one step closer to the top of the stairs. I arched my back, grinding down until he nudged against that sensitive little bundle of nerves. I wrapped my arms around his neck on impulse, landing hard on my back without their support. The force knocked both of us down two steps, the impact of each bump sending shockwaves through my body. Gabriel groaned, the hum of his voice against my collarbone sending me over the edge. I clenched around him, crying out as red starbursts exploded behind my eyelids.
Seeing my face as I climaxed had some strange effect on Gabriel. Moaning softly in my ear, he begged me to open my eyes. I obeyed and found him watching me, memorizing every detail of my face. I turned my face into his cradling palm and bit down on the tender skin between his thumb and forefinger with my blunter teeth. He yowled, surprised, and grinned obscenely just before he shuddered over me. We slid down the stairs one at a time as he came.
We slithered to a stop on the third step. I sighed. “I missed you.”
“That’s what a man likes to hear,” he said, pulling me onto his chest and nuzzling the curve of my throat.
I blew out an unnecessary breath. “This is just like our first time, without all the hitting and bleeding. I know we haven’t addressed this, but I totally won that fight.”
“I admire your competitive nature and optimism, but there’s no way you would have beaten me in a fair fight.”
I smirked. “Would it make you feel better if I went all traditional and asked what you’re thinking in some soft, hesitant voice? Because right now, all I’m thinking is ‘woo,’ and if I might add, ‘hoo.’ “
“It saddens me that I don’t know whether this is the stunning aftereffects of my technique or that you’re spending more time with Dick.
“So … what are you thinking?” he asked in that faux feminine voice again, pressing little kisses along my wrist. “Because I doubt very much that ‘woo’ and ‘hoo’ is all that’s going on in that massive, teeming brain of yours.”
I propped my chin on his chest. “Do you really want to know? Because at any given moment, when I’m with you, I have about a million questions bouncing around in my head. Stuff that, frankly, I’m a little ashamed I don’t know about you. For instance, why don’t you have an accent? You and Dick grew up together. He has a respectable drawl. But you sound as if you’re from the middle of nowhere, only with a slightly stuck-up British vernacular.”
He pushed my hair back from my face. “Well, you know what they say, ‘When in Rome …’ “
