Her eyes flared brighter amber. Her lips parted as she drew in a quick breath.
Yet no words emerged.
“I’m sorry,” he said, uneasiness creeping in as the silence stretched. “Was that too crude? Too common? I’m new at the whole talking-about-sex thing.” Hell, he was new to sex itself. “I don’t wish to offend you.” And his only exposure to sex talk had been through movies.
Her lips closed. Her slender throat moved in a swallow. “I am old-fashioned,” she whispered. “If any other man had said that to me, I would have kicked his ass from here to Virginia and told him if he wanted to fuck someone, he could go fuck himself.”
“Even Ethan?” he asked, then silently cursed himself for not being able to forget her affair with the other man.
A faint smile hovered around her lips. “Especially Ethan. But you…”
“Me?”
“Hearing you say that makes me want to yank your pants down and take you in my mouth again.”
Zach swore as his body caught fire. “You can’t say such things to me.”
“You don’t like it?”
“I like it too much. But I can’t act on it, damn it. The last time we gave in to impulse, your brother and his wife popped in and got an eyeful.”
She grimaced. “I see your point. And now Seth is back to his old duties, teleporting all over creation in an attempt to keep us safe while David and Roland take turns helping Ami. For some reason, I think it would be even worse for Seth to come upon us…”
“Going at it like rabbits?” he asked, borrowing Yuri’s phrase.
She laughed. “Yes.”
“Fine. We’ll wait,” he said, not even trying to hide his disappointment.
“Waiting will make it better when we come together anyway. And dawn is only a couple of hours away.” Tossing down the stained shirt, she sheathed her weapons and began to collect the daggers they had thrown.
Zach collected the vampires’ weapons and tried to get his mind off all the things he would be doing to Lisette if they were in the privacy of her bedroom.
The bowie knives, folding knives, and machetes were all of poor quality. Some of the blades had broken upon contact with Lisette’s superior shoto swords. “What do you think?” he asked, holding them up. “Toss them?”
She nodded.
Zach zipped away to bury them in a dumpster, then returned to her.
Lisette finished tucking her weapons away and handed him his.
“Thank you.”
She smiled and grabbed the vampires’ sticky clothing.
“What?” Zach asked as he helped.
“Nothing. It’s just…” She straightened. “I like that you let me be me,” she said with a shrug. “I like that you think I’m strong.”
“You are strong.”
“But you also appreciate my femininity.”
“I more than appreciate it,” he said with a leer.
She grinned. “Yet you aren’t overprotective like my brothers and Seth, all of whom can drive me up the wall sometimes.”
“Oh, but I am. I cringe every time a battle arises. And my inner Neanderthal awakens whenever I think you’re in danger.”
“Your inner Neanderthal?”
He nodded. “I believe you met him when I ordered you to never defy me again.”
She winked. “Your inner Neanderthal gave me multiple orgasms.”
And wanted to give her more.
1
This scene will seem familiar to you because one that is very similar to it appeared in Blade of Darkness. This was the original version of it. I wrote it for Shadows Strike. But because I needed to bring the word count down, I cut it. I really wanted this visit to take place, however, so I rewrote it with Aidan as the lead character instead of Bastien and included it in Blade of Darkness (which I thought worked well), then gave Bastien and Emma a new “first encounter” in Cliff’s Descent. Here is the original.
Bastien stared at the quaint home before him. Off the beaten path, it was painted a cheery pale yellow with white trim. The picture-perfect lawn bore edges as straight as a blade. A row of dark shrubs butted up against the house on either side of the stone sidewalk. Flowers in every color of the rainbow proliferated in front of them and poured over the sides of hanging baskets on the front porch. Bright white window boxes bore even more colorful plants, proclaiming the homeowner’s green thumb.
It reminded him a bit of Roland and Sarah’s place.
Light shone behind the blinds on two of the front windows. A heart beat slowly and steadily inside the home.
And still he hesitated.
“Stop procrastinating,” he grumbled to himself and strode up the walk.
His boots produced thumps as loud as a bass drum beat in the night’s quiet as he scaled the wooden steps and ducked under the porch’s roof. Raising a fist, he knocked on the front door.
Nearly silent footsteps carried to his ears as the individual inside crept over to the front door. Bastien bent his knees a bit so she could see him in the light of the porch through the peephole.
He knew the moment she did.
Her heart began to slam against her ribs.
A full minute passed.
He sighed. “I can hear your heartbeat through the door, so pretending no one is home won’t work.”
“What do you want?”
“I need to speak with you. Open the door, please.” When she made no move to do so, he sighed again. “You know who and what I am, so you know locks can’t keep me out. I asked you as a courtesy.”
The clicking of locks being unlatched intruded upon the night. The door swung open.
Bastien stared down at the woman who opened the door only the width of her own body, making it clear she had no intention of inviting him inside.
She was lovely, with smooth, flawless skin the color of Melanie’s favorite chocolate bar. Eyes as dark a brown as his own filled with fear and dread. Her hair was drawn back from her face in pretty braids until the place where some women and girls wore headbands. Then it sprang free in an Afro that looked as soft and fluffy as cotton candy.
Narrow shoulders bared by a tank top stiffened as she braced herself and looked up at him. Her slender arms ended in hands that gripped the door and doorframe so tightly he could see the tendons in her knuckles. Small breasts. A barely there waist. And full hips clad in baggy pajama bottoms that hid the shape of her legs.
“You know who I am,” Bastien stated again.
“You’re Bastien,” she said, her posture defensive.
“Yes. And as I said, we need to talk.”
She hesitated another moment, then stepped back and opened the door wide enough for him to enter.
He stepped inside and glanced around while she closed the door behind him, leaving it unlocked. They stood in her living room. Small but tastefully decorated. Beyond it lay a modern kitchen and a breakfast nook that housed a treadmill instead of a table and chairs.
“So?” she prompted, folding her arms.
“So,” he parroted and wondered how to begin. Might as well start by stating the obvious. “You’ve been seeing Cliff.”
Something flickered in her eyes, and he could almost hear the debate waging inside her. Should she deny it? Feign ignorance? Brazen it out?