What? Did he just say…blood?
‘Hmm? I couldn’t hear you over the crashing waves once his tongue sent me over the Viagra Falls. When he rolls it like a whiskey barrel…my gawd…he can stick his hooch in my cooch any day!’
It scared me a little that Betty and I were currently on the same page.
Surely it was one of the seven signs of the apocalypse, so I tried to slam shut the nookie novel we were reading by flashlight underneath the blanket and focus. But with Eric right there in my face, it was hard to see anything beyond his pretty blue eyes.
Or his fuckable lips.
Lips that were still shiny from fucking Betty’s lips. The glossy sheen made them look like a teenage girl’s, getting all gussied up to go to a One Direction concert. Only instead of a strawberry scented Bonne Bell, he’d used a Sookie scented Betty’s Basilica Bell. But after all of that talk about my Eau de Pus-soir Parfum, I thought he should probably wash that off before my chamber of secrets wasn’t one any longer.
And if we didn’t get out of bed soon, I knew we would end up making our own concert because our position on the bed could only lead in one direction.
What were we talking about again?
“Lover?” he asked when I didn’t say anything. That he heard anyways.
“Huh?” I offered, still in a daze. My head was swimming.
And Betty was still bouncing off of the rocks at the bottom of the falls.
“I think you should have more of my blood,” he reminded me. “Not only would my scent on you be stronger, but I can feel that you are tired. You have been running around all day long, but I also know you will insist on going to the casino tonight. My blood will increase your strength. It will make you more alert and your senses will heighten. If you choose not accept my offer, then I think we should stay here for the remainder of the night so you can rest. We can go to the casino tomorrow evening.”
“But…” I began to protest, remembering something about the blood bond he’d spoken of.
And because he knew me better than he knew himself – literally – he shook his head and asked, “How many times have you have my blood?”
“Uh…” I paused to think and replied, “Once?”
It came out more like a question, but that was only because I wasn’t sure. So I explained by adding, “You gave me your blood when I was hurt that day, but I…I think I might have had a drop or two one time before that when we kissed.”
And what a kiss it was.
And talking about it – remembering that kiss – I felt my face fire up in embarrassment, which was stupid considering he was still wearing Betty balm. But he’d been different then. A different guy, no matter how identical they looked in the mirror. So it felt weird talking about kissing – what amounted to another man – with him.
Good girls didn’t kiss and tell.
But with Betty still bobbing up against the rocks, I supposed that ship had already sailed.
‘Cum sail away…cum sail away…cum sail away with mmmeeeeeee…’
And…she was drunk on Eric’s hooch.
‘Let’s play with his swizzle Styx in our Southpark!’
Christ. She was that drunk? Maybe staying in for one more night wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
Clearly I’d already failed my panty shield sobriety test.
“Did I have your blood on either of those nights?” he asked, unaware of the Betty booze hound currently stumbling over her ABC’s.
‘A b d e f l m n o peee…z. Peeez sir, may I have another?’ she asked, tipping her flask to show that it was empty.
My answer was to both of them.
“I can still taste you on my tongue,” he smiled.
Was that statement for the both of us too?
His leer gave us our answer.
Acting like he wasn’t just talking about having my nether nectar on his palate, he added, “So if you have my blood now, it will start a bond. But we would have to exchange twice more before it became permanent.”
Getting ahead of any potential refusal on my part, he pushed his head down into the Eric-shaped hole – the one in between my head and shoulder, thank the lord almighty – admitting softly into my ear, “It would make me feel better.”
Unable to stop myself from completing the puzzle pieces of our parts, I wrapped my arms and legs around his body, relishing in the feel of his weight on top of me, and made my own admission of, “You feel pretty good right now.”
He growled softly, causing a shiver to work its way down my spine and giving Betty a jolt from Eric’s denim holstered Taser gun pressing up against her.
Stick ‘em up!
Uh oh…was I hearing Eric Junior now too?
‘Hit me with your best shot…cum on! Why don’t you hit me with your best shot…’
Fucking hell. First Styx and now Pat Benatar?
No more VH1 Classic for her.
“Lover,” he whispered, while nibbling my ear lobe. “We can feel so much better.”
It was hard to imagine feeling any better than we were. And my imagination was already running riot, considering I would no doubt test positive for being under the influence of Eric-stasy right now. After all, it was hosting a fucking classic rock concert in my baby maker and I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised, if we turned the lights off and held up lighters, Freddy Mercury would be resurrected just so Queen could sing Betty’s Bohemian Rhapsody.
‘Oh mama mia, mama mia, mama mia let me go. Beelzebub has put a devil inside of me…of ME…OF MEEEEE…’
Too drunk to get the lyrics straight and still she was right. The devil was inside of me. And her name was Betty.
I did my best to hit the mute button on the playlist in my iPanties to really think about what Eric was asking me to do. Having his blood now would make me stronger, which wouldn’t be a bad thing because we both knew I would be walking into the lion’s den with nothing more than a hope and a prayer.
And a stake and a silver knife. Mustn’t forget about those.
And it would make my senses sharper. More focused. It might even help my telepathy in ways I couldn’t even imagine right now.
And considering all of the singing I imagined coming from my snatch, that was saying a lot.
And I would smell like him. The supernatural version of CK One.
It was one of a kind. Just like the vampire in my arms.
It wouldn’t complete a permanent bond. And if Eric got pissed about it after he got his memories back – when I was only doing it all for him – well then I supposed I would have to accept that too.
It would tell me all I needed to know about where his true feelings lied.
“Okay,” I whispered in agreement once my mind was settled.
“Okay?” he repeated, with his body becoming frozen on top of me.
All it took was a small kiss on the side of my Snow White vampire’s head for him to come back to life. But in case he hadn’t heard me over the High Ho – the little known and never talked about eighth dwarf, Slutty – in my panties, I repeated, “Okay.”
I didn’t freeze when I felt his hand snake its way in between our two bodies. It was more like I melted – much like the glaciers due to global warming. Itty bitty polar bears could’ve been drowning in my underwear, but I couldn’t be bothered to care until I felt him snatch the knife strapped next to my snatch. And I barely had the time to gasp when quick as a whip he used the silver blade to cut a two inch gash into his neck.
The sizzle from the silver burning his skin was still reverberating in the air when he tossed the knife aside. Leaning down, he used that same hand to cradle the back of my head as he lifted it towards the wound and said, “Drink.”
But I balked instead.
The first time I drank his blood I’d been too delirious from the attack and resulting blood loss to think about what I was doing. Now…
It was blood.
A lot of blood. Vampire or not, I wasn’t one and the thought of gulping it down like a cherry Slurpee wasn’t all that appealing. But I already promised.
And Stackhouses kept their promises.
Tentatively, I flicked my tongue over the blood seeping from the wound, hoping that would be enough to do whatever it was he’d said it would do. I remembered my flawless appearance on the morning after I’d had the first drop with our kiss, but after the attack, the only thing I’d noticed underneath my torn and blood stained clothes was the fact my injuries were gone. His blood had barely settled on my tongue when I realized the coppery flavor I was expecting wasn’t there. Instead it was almost sweet, so I licked the wound again and sealed my mouth around it, trying to pick apart the different layers of flavors like I was a snooty monocle wearing connoisseur and he bled the finest wine.
And I quickly became drunk on him.
I pulled from the wound, filling my mouth and savoring every nuance before swallowing and repeating the process all over again. My entire body felt alive – electric – and my arms and legs tightened around his. He may have moaned. He may have recited the Declaration of Independence for all I knew. But when I felt his fangs slide into my neck, it was like time sped backwards and we were suddenly thrust back into 1942.
And Betty slapped on her Uncle Sam red, white, and blue top hat declaring, ‘I want you!’
Every nerve ending on my body was electrified and my mind was short circuited in the process. So when the wound on his neck began to heal, I used my teeth to tear it back open.
I wasn’t done.
But goddamn was I close.
My body barely had the chance to recover from my previous orgasm, so it was well primed for another one. And with Eric on top of me, with his lower half still in between my legs, I knew just who could give it to me.
My hands flew to the front of his pants of their own accord and began working on the jigsaw puzzle he called a belt. I wanted him. I needed to feel him inside of me, so when he grabbed onto my hand to stop me, I let him know I didn’t appreciate it.
By biting his shoulder in frustration.
“It is my blood,” he forced out in a hoarse voice. “That is why you feel this way.”
“No,” I argued. “It’s you.” I tried to pull my hands free. But when that didn’t work – because the word Caterpillar should be etched down the side of his freakishly strong arm – I used my legs to grind my lower half against him, saying, “And it’s you I want inside of me.” Adding a little swivel to my hips, I added, “All of you. Now.”
I could see him fighting for control of himself. And I hoped like hell he would surrender quickly because Betty was incommunicado now that she was readying to storm the beaches of Normandy. Neither one of us could hear anything over the crashing waves and bursts of gunfire.
And I thought victory was in my grasp when he released my hands from his and his lips crashed down onto mine. I was raring for any fight, so I would gladly duke it out with him in any way he wanted. But I couldn’t fight physics and with his torso so much longer than my own, I couldn’t reach the prize in his pants when he shifted his body to my side. His chest pinned me to the bed, while his lips pinned my head to the pillow, and I stopped trying to fight my way free when I felt two of his fingers slide inside of me. But my inner muscles fought to keep them there.
He finger fucked me back into coherency.
That’s as far as my mind could go. I was panting in air like I’d just run a marathon and my head was still spinning from my body being so spun up, so I didn’t try to force any more words. I didn’t try to do anything and instead just lay there, unable to do anything else.
Eric didn’t speak either. My eyes were still closed, but I could feel his eyes on me. The only part of him touching me now was the occasional fingertip trailing down my arm or him sweetly moving the strands of hair away from my face. He seemed content to just watch me lie there, which was weird, but sweet nonetheless.
“Why did you stop me?” I asked, barely aware I had even formed the thought before it had spilled from my lips.
He didn’t say anything until I turned and opened my eyes to look back him. A small smile played on his lips, but it was more rueful than anything else when he asked his own question.
“Why did you stop yourself every other time before now?”
Again I was stuck. Stuck because now that the fog was lifting, I knew he was right. I had been holding back, telling myself I didn’t want to go too far when Eric didn’t really seem capable of giving consent. I knew this Eric was all for it, but I knew I would feel like I’d taken advantage of him if, when he regained his memories, nothing had changed. If everything went back to the way it was. Despite how much I wanted to believe I meant something more to that Eric, that didn’t make me believe he forgave me for my betrayal.
Not wanting me to die and wanting me in his life and/or in his bed were two very different things.
“I’m sorry.” It was true even if I couldn’t accurately explain what exactly I was sorry for.
I was sorry for trying to take things too far.
I was sorry for putting him in the position of denying me when I knew he wanted me more than anything else.
I was sorry for betraying him to begin with because if I hadn’t – if I had come clean and told him everything earlier – then the chances were none of this would have happened to him. That Stonebrook woman might still be alive and Eric might still have his memories if I’d still been a part of his life.
“You have no need to apologize, lover,” he softly soothed, while pulling me into his embrace. “I enjoyed it. Very much.”
The playful lilt he’d ended with told me he did enjoy it very much. But I also knew he didn’t get as much enjoyment as I had.
I could feel his joystick pushing against my leg.
But blowing him now as a consolation seemed too low. I felt horrible for almost using him for sex. It was the exact thing I’d already been worried over him feeling, if and when he got his memory back. And while it could be said I wanted Eric in every way merely because the day ended in ‘Y’, if and when we had sex for the first time, I didn’t want it to be because I was hopped up on his blood. So no, I wouldn’t try to go down on him now.
Maybe later, though.
We both got out of bed and cleaned up fairly quickly. I say that because my movements were much quicker thanks to Eric’s blood. And I was stronger. Strong enough that when I went to pull the bottom of my dress back down, I accidentally ripped it at the seams that attached it to the bodice. So I changed into the sapphire blue wrap dress I wore when I threw up on him – now clean, maybe thanks to Mr. Fuckity Fuck since it was returned in a plastic dry cleaner’s bag along with the rest of my things. I didn’t even need to turn on the light in the bathroom to fix my hair and makeup and I felt like I could leap tall Eric’s in a single bound. It made me remember our joking about my part-time superhero gig during my interview.
Eric had turned me into Super Sookie.
And thoughts of leaping Eric in any capacity weren’t helping to get my mind in the game. Nor was the sight of him in the leather outfit he’d changed into in the meantime. I didn’t remember packing it when I’d gotten his things together earlier that afternoon and could only assume Betty had glamoured me into doing it. My engine was revving all over again, with my gears more than adequately lubed, but I ignored his leather exterior and my oily interior so we could head out to the casino.
The plan was for me to go in alone and try to listen to the people inside, while Eric paced like an expectant father from somewhere outside and unseen. The pacing part wasn’t the actual plan, but he was obviously feeling cagey.
So I ignored that too.
It felt like too big of a risk for him to go in with me when we didn’t know who the enemy was. I didn’t want him in the line of fire when he was blinded by his missing memories. And if you changed out who was in the crosshairs, I knew he felt the exact same way about me. But it was only his eyes that argued with me over it. Maybe his lips too, if you counted the kiss he laid on me before I headed inside.
And I supposed the same thing could be said about his whole body, considering he rubbed himself all over me like he was a grizzly bear and I was the Redwood he chose to mark his territory on.
I thanked God vampires couldn’t piss.
My first pass was through the casino because that was where the majority of the people were. It took some time for me to filter through them all, but I didn’t get the headache from it I’d expected. I assumed it had to do with me having Eric’s blood and knowing he was likely scrutinizing my emotions with every passing second I was out of his sight, I tried to project feelings of calm. That it was no big deal and there was nothing to worry about.
Yes, I was in the lion’s den, but I was dressed up like Nahla.
No one would look at me twice, what with me an my Hakuna Matata joie de vivre attitude.
That wasn’t really true though. People – vampire people – did look at me twice. Three and four times, even. I assumed it was because of what Eric had said. I would be known to them for the sheer fact I had worked for him as his personal assistant. Neither one of us knew what – if any – excuse he’d given them for my hasty departure. But if any of them watched the evening news and caught wind of Callaghan’s demise, I supposed they could’ve assumed there was a link.
And with any luck they would also have assumed Eric had glamoured the memory from me and my appearance in the casino that night was purely coincidental.
I’d been casually strolling from table to table when I caught the thought of that Stonebrook woman coming from someone’s head. They were picturing her in their mind and if I had to guess, I would say they seemed to be looking for her. Whoever it was felt worried – tinged with anger. Their mind was tinged in that red haze too, so I had to assume they were a Supe of some sort. But without Eric and his super sniffer there, I couldn’t be sure what kind they were. And when I turned to try and get a look at who it was coming from, I saw I wasn’t the only one to currently have someone else in the crosshairs.
The vampire I recognized from the video – the one who headed Eric’s security team at night and helped clean up the Stonebrook woman’s remains – had taken notice of my presence. I tried to pretend that I didn’t notice. But I couldn’t stop my own body’s reactions when my flight or fight instincts kicked in as he casually put himself alongside of me, while I did my damnedest to act like the Roulette wheel in front of us held the secrets to the world, and tried to keep a bead on the Stonebrook searcher.
But my multi-tasking was for shit because I lost track of their mind and my body stiffened when I saw him lean slightly in my direction while scenting the air. But I barely had the chance for my ass to pucker, wondering if he was smelling EN One or Eau de Pus-soir, when I was suddenly pounced on by a cow.
And I wasn’t talking about any of the numerous women who’d been on the prowl, looking for Eric, and had been shooting me dirty looks – and thoughts – when they recognized me as being his arm candy a week earlier.
No, I was suddenly the bacon wrapped up in and around the finest cut of filet known to vampire-kind.
‘Fine is right. Let’s go home so Angus can bang us!’
Put a fucking cork in it Betty! Now isn’t the time!
“She is mine,” Eric said in a voice so low, I was sure I wouldn’t have heard him if I hadn’t just had his blood. And his caveman claiming was doing a number on Betty.
Not only had my Neanderthal discovered fire, but he’d found a way to stoke the flames.
But it wasn’t the time for me to play with his hose either. So I chanced a peek at the vampire voyeur currently getting an eyeful of his bossy boss playing with his food and saw him take a step backward, as he nodded slightly in deference to Mr. Intimidator.
If he could remember how to work a clutch, he could be the next Dale Earnhardt.
Straightening his spine, he clasped his hands in front of his body and looked at Eric saying, “I was not aware you had returned. I take it Miss Stackhouse is in your employ once more?”
Well that answered at least one question.
Everybody knew I didn’t work there anymore.
But I didn’t know what – if any – story they’d been given as to why I had left. I didn’t really care though and was only concerned with trying to locate the mind I’d been tracking, so I went back to sifting through the heads in the room now that it seemed like the vampire threat had passed. Eric only seemed to be concerned over one thing and he voiced it out loud by responding, “She is mine. That is all you need to know.”
‘It’s getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes…’
Eh…at least she’d fast forwarded a couple of decades.
“And I haven’t returned. Not officially,” Eric added in his bossy voice. I hadn’t heard it since he’d lost his memories, but it still made my ovum stand up and cheer, doing the wave down my fallopian tubes, with it echoing off the walls of my stadium. “We are merely enjoying a night out. I will let you know if I have need of your services. You are dismissed.”
It was a good thing at least he could think on his feet.
I could only sing with my hoohah.
“Very well,” the now dissed and dismissed vampire replied before taking his leave. He didn’t look too put out over Eric’s dickery, so I assumed it wasn’t something new.
And before I could make any more assumptions that could lead to me making an ass out of myself on what might happen when he got his memories back, I was distracted by the thoughts of the man looking for Stonebrook. I knew it was a man based on the sound of his inner voice and I held stock still trying to hear as much as I could.
“Marnie?” I whispered out loud. But hearing another name, I asked in a more confused tone, “Hallow?”
Eric obviously had no idea what I was talking about, but just as he prepared to ask, I placed a single finger over his lips. I needed to concentrate, so I closed my eyes and my grip on his shirt tightened with my other hand when I suddenly saw myself gripping Eric’s shirt in the thoughts of Stonebrook’s one man search party.
The red haze of his mind got even redder – angrier – and his thoughts were downright murderous as I heard him think, “I knew Marnie wasn’t with him. She would’ve called me by now. So what in the fuck did that fanger do to my sister.”