When she lifted her hair off her neck and pinned it up on her head, his already elongated canines began to ache. More than anything he wanted to sink his fangs into her as he buried his cock deep.
“And she’d probably club me with the fireplace poker as soon as she got her hands on it,” he mumbled. “Can’t force her.” Then he grinned and patted the head of his cock. “Don’t worry, buddy, I’ll just slip into her head again once she’s in the tub.”
“Oh, bother. I forgot to scrub the tub.” Amber leaned over the side of the old-fashioned, claw-foot tub and scrutinized the inside. Except for some stray red hairs, it looked clean. “A quick swipe with some disinfectant won’t hurt.” She a pulled bottle of tub cleaner from under the sink, sprayed it liberally inside the tub, scrubbed it out with another old towel, then opened the hot water spigot full blast.
Opening the cupboard, she pulled out first one bottle then another.
“Which bubble bath should I use, Midnight?”
The cat ignored her and continued washing her paw.
Amber chuckled. “Eau de garlic, maybe? To keep the big bad vampire away?” She chuckled some more. “No garlic. Guess I’ll have to go with lily of the valley. I have a lily scented candle I can light, too.”
As moist, delicately scented steam rose and frothy, white bubbles filled the tub, Amber turned on the cold water spigot. She pinned up her hair then stripped out of her bra and panties. “God, but I’m tired.
I can’t remember when I worked so hard. A good, long soak in the tub and then I’m going to bed. I’ll deal with Rusty tomorrow night. I’ll have all day to figure out how to convince him to listen to me.” After turning off the water, she sank into the tub. “Ahhhhhhhhh. This feels so good.” Leaning her head back against a washcloth she’d folded over the edge of the tub earlier, she closed her eyes and inhaled the delicate floral fragrance wafting from the burning candle.
Rusty craned his neck, trying to get a better view. For a few brief seconds, she’s stood before him buck-naked. She looked even sexier than he’d imagined last night. Then she’d stepped into the tub and sunk into water and bubbles that covered her to her neck.
“Why did she put so many damn bubbles in the tub? I can’t see a thing,” he muttered to the owl sitting in the upper branches of the tree.
His cock jerked and he settled back against the tree. Okay, time to play head games—he looked down
—so to speak. He looked back through the window. “Are you just lying there, Amber honey, or are your hands busy underneath all those bubbles? Are you as wet and slippery right now on the inside as you are on the outside? Are your fingers playing with that little nub between your legs? Is it hard?
Does it ache? Like me?”
Rusty stroked his cock, sliding his hand up and down as he imagined Amber fingering herself, stroking herself, plucking her sensitive clit. He began to pump faster, squeezing his cock as he imagined her hips arching. He slid his tongue along his fangs, eagerly swallowing the blood that oozed out. He kept his gaze locked on her, leaning forward when he heard her moan.
She arched and her breasts rose out of the water. Bubbles caressed them and dripped off her pebbled nipples. She moaned again. Water swirled lazily at first then splashed. Her foot appeared and she rested it on the side of the tub.
Blood thudded along the length of his cock. His balls tightened and drew closer to his body. His fangs lengthened even more. “Ah hell, honey, I wish I could see you.” Her head was thrown back, her mouth open. A groaning sob rose from deep in her throat. More water splashed on the floor.
Rusty ran a finger along his fangs and sucked the blood into his mouth. He squeezed and pumped his cock harder. “That’s it, baby. Come for me. Come hard.” As her sob became a keen, cum erupted from Rusty’s cock, spurting high into the air, splattering white droplets against the leaves. Groaning, he collapsed against the tree trunk. Damn, if jerking off while he watched her take a bath was that good, what would it be like when he finally buried his cock between her legs as deeply as he could while her hot, sweet blood seeped into his mouth?
He shuddered as more cum spurted.
When his body finally became still, he opened his eyes and stared in the window.
Panting, Amber was still lying back in the tub, the fingers of both hands buried in her hair. Enough water and bubbles had splashed out of the tub for him to have a clear view of her rosy nipples as her breasts rose and fell with her deep breaths. Both were still pebbled tightly.
Licking his lips, Rusty raked the hair off his forehead and grinned. Maybe tomorrow he would listen to what she had to say. Who knew what kind of ideas she’d have about how vampires make love.
Hands braced on the edge of the tub, Amber stood, knees wobbling. Sudsy bubbles meandered down her body, teasing still-sensitive nerves. As her internal muscles clenched with a final spasm of pleasure, she closed her eyes and moaned. Only her vise-like grip on the rounded tub kept her from collapsing back into the water.
She sucked in a huge breath and exhaled slowly. “My God. That was…was…unbelievable. If I could find a man who made me feel that good…”
Another deep breath. Then another.
Strength returned to her legs.
Slowly, she lifted her right leg over the side of the tub, made sure it was planted firmly on the nubby throw rug, then lifted the other out. Grabbing her towel, she wrapped around herself, held it with one hand and grabbed the towel rack to steady herself as her knees wobbled again.
A shiver danced up her spine. Her nipples still tingled. “Shit, if I can do this to myself, maybe I don’t need a man.”
“Meeeerowww?”
Amber chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. Having somebody around to kill the spiders would be a good idea.”
Another deep breath and she finally stood without support. She dried off slowly, pausing every now and then to sigh or shiver. Finally, she slipped into her nightgown. The satiny material caressed her still-sensitive body. Delicate pin-pricks of passion danced up her spine and she shivered yet again.
Why was she still so aroused? The orgasm she’d just experienced was more satisfying than any she could remember. Yet her body was still hot, still aching. Why? For what? Or for whom?
Rusty’s form appeared in her mind and she shook her head and snorted. “No way, Jose. Not him. My God, he’s got leaves stuck in his beard!”
Grabbing her brush, she pulled it through her damp hair. Rusty Nipple—appealing? What a joke. No, it wasn’t any man she’d met recently. She was just horny from writing the love scenes in her book.
After all, she hadn’t made love with a man in what—over a year. No wonder her body was going crazy.
Amber nodded. Yep, that was her problem. Writing hot sex when she’d been too long without it herself.
After a few quick strokes for her hair, she patted Midnight on the head. Then she let the water drain from the tub and rinsed out the bubbles. Once it was empty, she blew out the candle then grabbed a box she’d set just inside the door earlier that day. “No way is Rusty sleeping in here tonight.” She place the wooden cross she found in one of the extra bedrooms at one end of the tub and spread garlic cloves along the bottom. “There. That will keep him out. I’ll leave the door to the front bedroom open.
He should be smart enough to figure out he should sleep in there.” After brushing her teeth, she headed for her bedroom followed by Midnight—scratching that pesky itch on her neck.
Outside, Rusty pumped his cock twice more. Groaning, he leaned back as he came again. Who was this woman that she could have such an effect on him? Since he’d become a vampire, he hadn’t been able to get a hard-on for any woman—not even Jolene, the hairdresser who’d sleep with anything that had a cock between his legs. But just watching Amber dry off after her bath had had him hard and aching again—only minutes after he’d shot his load. He’d never recovered so quickly after sex. But Amber—all she had to do was brush her hair and his little buddy roared to life. Something wasn’t right about all this. Was it because he was a vampire now? Maybe Amber could tell him. She was the expert on vampires, wasn’t she?
What’s more, his fangs still literally ached.
After stuffing his still semi-erect cock back in his jeans, he jumped lightly to the ground. He needed blood, and he needed it now. Cocking his head to the side, he listened carefully. There, north, deer. A shiver raced up his back at the thought hot blood sliding down his throat.
After one last glance toward the now dark bathroom window, he leaped away. Once he satisfied his craving for blood, he’d be able to walk into the house where Amber slept—without worrying about whether he’d attack her or not.
Somehow, he didn’t think she was the type of woman who just submitted to a man without a fuss.
Nope. She was liable to hit him up alongside the head with an iron skillet.
* * * * *
Faint light was edging above the woods to the east by the time Rusty returned home. Stopping only long enough to pick a couple of rose buds, he silently stepped onto the back porch and let himself in, cringing when the hinges on the old screen door squeaked. The owl hooted.
Other than that, it remained quiet.
As he stepped into the kitchen, the scent of brewing coffee teased his nose. He stopped, then stepped to the automatic coffee maker. Water bubbled and dripped.
He inhaled and smiled. Coffee. When was the last time he had a cup of coffee?
Laying the roses on the counter, he grabbed a mug from the cupboard, then he drummed his fingers on the countertop as he watched the thin stream of dark liquid cascade into the pot. Damn it! How long was this going to take?
Tired of waiting, Rusty grabbed the pot and filled his mug, ignoring the hot sizzle of evaporating coffee as it hit the hot pad of the brewer. He shrugged as he set the pot back. Only a little bit missed the pot. There was still plenty for Amber.
Lifting the mug, he sipped. As the fragrant odor and smooth, sharp taste of the strong, hot coffee slid over his tongue, he sighed with pleasure. He sipped some more and sighed again. Damn, but this was good.
“What are you doing?”
Slowly, Rusty turned.
Amber stood in the doorway wearing nothing but that little silk nightie she’d put on the night before.
He gulped a mouthful of the hot coffee and yelped. The sharp ache of his burned tongue replaced the beginning ache in his now-soft cock.
She stomped into the kitchen.
Her cross-eyed cat scuttled after her.
“Vampires do not drink coffee. Now put that down!”
He cupped his mug with both hands, pulled it against his chest and shook his head. “No, ma’am. This is the first cup of coffee I’ve had in two months and I’m not giving it up.” Then he winked. “You do make a good cup of coffee, you know. Just the way I like it, nice and strong.” He swallowed more and smiled.
Taken aback at the compliment, Amber stared at the bushy-bearded vampire standing in her kitchen.
Was he right? Did vampires drink coffee? Frowning, she searched her mind. Did Angel ever drink coffee? Did Spike? There was that episode where Spike was tied to the chair and Willow stuck a chocolate chip cookie in his mouth. He ate that. And he liked cornflakes with his bowl of blood. And there were those episodes of “Buffy” where Spike drank beer. Maybe vampires could drink coffee—or other liquids besides blood.
She pursed her lips.
Rusty grinned at her.
At least she thought he grinned. He had so much hair around his mouth it was hard to tell.
She sniffed. “Well, it is liquid. So I guess you’re allowed to drink it.” He tossed back the last of the coffee and nodded. “Thanks for letting me know. Now, I really need to get some sleep. See you tonight.”
Amber quickly stepped away from the door.
Still, Rusty’s arm brushed against hers. The soft flannel of his shirt raised goosebumps on her arms.
Her nipples tingled.
And he was gone.
“Meoooooooow?”
Amber shivered, bent, picked up her cat and cuddled Midnight against her chest.
“Nothing. I’m just cold, that’s all.” I’m not attracted to a…a redneck vampire.
She turned and spied the roses lying on the counter. Where did they come from?
Yawning, Rusty pushed the bathroom door shut and headed for the tub. At first it had seemed strange
—sleeping in this bathtub. But it was big and deep and he was more comfortable here than anywhere else.
Lifting his arms above his head, he stretched then scratched his chin through his whiskers—and pulled a leaf out of his beard. He stared at it and snorted. Maybe he did need a trim.
He reached the side of the tub and lifted his foot over the side. Something skittered along the bottom of the tub. Frowning, he looked in. A wooden cross lay amidst dozens of cloves of garlic.
“What the hell?” He picked up the cross and set it on the back of the toilet. Then he cocked his head to the side and contemplated the garlic. “Now what the hell did she put all this garlic in the tub for? Is it supposed to make it cleaner? I never heard of that. Shit, there’s enough garlic in here to make a whole tub full of deer sausage. If I’d a known she had all this, I’d a brought that deer home last night.
Nothing like deer sausage with lots of garlic.”
Leaning down, he pushed all the garlic toward the back of the tub. Grabbing two handfuls, he looked around. A small basket holding a bunch of little soaps in different colors sat on the counter next to the sink. That would do. There was enough room in the basket for the garlic. He dropped both handfuls on top of the soap and gathered up the rest. Once all of the garlic, except for a stray clove or two here and there, was out of the tub, Rusty climbed in, settled himself and closed his eyes. In seconds, he slept deeply.
Still mumbling to herself, Amber stuck the roses in water and rinsed the coffee pot and the two mugs.
“Roses? He’s impossible! Why is he giving me such a hard time? I only want to help him. But does he listen to anything I say? No.” Leaving the pot and mugs in the sink, she headed back to her bedroom to get dressed. “The house is clean so I should get some writing done today.” She climbed the stairs. “I should take a drive and find the nearest grocery store, too. Midnight will soon need more cat food.” She reached the top of the stairs and headed for her bedroom. She passed the bathroom, stopped and turned back. “What’s this door doing shut? I didn’t shut it.” Amber turned the knob and walked in. The shower curtain was drawn.
“No. He can’t be in there.”
Jerking the curtain back, she stared into the serene face of Rusty.
“What? How? He can’t sleep on garlic. And the cross! That should have had him running out of here!”
She spotted the cross on the back of the toilet. Her nose followed the scent of garlic to her soap basket. “He put the garlic here! My soaps are ruined! What’s the matter with him?” Gritting her teeth, she swung back to face him.
He remained deathly still.
“Hey!” Reaching down, she grabbed his beard and yanked it. “Hey. Moron. You ruined my hand-dipped soaps.”
Rusty slept on.
She jerked his beard again—harder.
His head lifted then thunked down against the back of the tub. He didn’t stir.
“Ooooooooo!” Frustrated, she jerked his beard a third time.
As his head thumped against the tub again, Amber froze. Slowly, she opened her hand and stared at the chunk of beard in her hand. Vampires weren’t supposed to have beards.
A slow smiled teased the muscles of her cheeks.
Rusty was going to lose this beard—right now.
“Shears. I know I saw some shears somewhere. Bedroom—yeah. I put them in my bedroom.” Hurrying to her room, she paused long enough to throw on a pair of old jeans and a tee shirt. Then she grabbed the shears and returned to the bathroom.
“Boy, am I glad you kept all these ratty towels, Aunt Ernestine.” She placed the old towel under Rusty’s chin and beard and went to work with the shears.
Fifteen minutes later, Amber carefully folded the four ends of the towel over and lifted it from Rusty’s chest. She stuffed it into the wastebasket, grabbed the ends of the plastic liner and pulled the entire bag out. After tying the ends shut, she set it in the hall. She’d drop it in the garbage when she went back down stairs.
Chuckling, she turned back to Rusty. Unevenly cut whiskers stuck out from his chin and cheeks in varying lengths. “I told you vampires didn’t have beards. Now, to get the rest of those whiskers off.” She grabbed the shaving cream and razor she normally used on her legs and went to work.
“Damn, but bending over the edge of a tub is hard on the back,” Amber said as she straightened, put her hands on her hips and leaned backwards. Then she twisted from one side to the other. Her back cracked and she sighed with pleasure.
She bent back over the tub. “Now, let’s see how you really look.” She wiped the excess shaving cream from Rusty’s face, brushed his hair back off his forehead and stared down at him. She blinked.
“Wow! You’re handsome. Why did you hide behind that hideous beard?” Amber continued to stare. Oh, yeah. This could work. Her redneck vampire was a good-looking guy.
Wide forehead, high cheekbones, straight nose, firm chin. And lips. Well, damn. His lips sure looked kissable. And she already knew he had beautiful green eyes. Yeah, this was definitely going to work.
He would make a good vampire hero—as long as he listened to her and followed her instructions.
Sighing—he’d already proved he was stubborn as a mule—Amber turned away and left the bathroom.
He’d sleep all day as usual. She had things to do.