He blinked at me and shook his head slightly. “What?”
I shook my head too. “Yeah, I know…right? I’m a little surprised too…but, yeah, that kind of turned me on.”
He gaped at me and then shook his head slowly back and forth, as his fangs retracted back to wherever they went when they were hiding. “You’re so weird.”
“Said the vampire who just drained our dinner,” I said wryly.
He laughed and turned a burner on the stove to hot, a large pot of water sitting atop it. “Touché.”
I stepped over to where he was now washing his hands, of all things. “You did that so fast.”
Drying his hands on a towel, he looked at me seriously. “There is no point in needless suffering. I’m not cruel.”
Still morbidly curious, I asked, “How long would it take to drain a human?”
His jaw clenched and he frowned at my question. “I will never drain a human.”
I shook my head and brushed aside his concern with my hand. “Just in theory…how long?”
He looked at me a long time before answering. “I’ve heard it can be done in 7 seconds.”
O...M...G…
“Wow…you’d never even know what hit you.”
He looked over at the chicken, almost like he now felt sorry for it. “Yeah.”
Wanting to lighten his mood, and perhaps actually being serious with my request, I playfully tossed out, “Will you drain my boss?”
His head snapped back to mine and the corners of his lips lifted. “What?”
I slipped my arms around his neck and he relaxed, slipping his arms around my waist. “The shrew I work for…just a smidge…just enough to knock her on her ass for a few days.”
He kissed my nose. “No.”
I ran my hands suggestively down his shirt, and then started un-tucking it. “I’d be most…appreciative.”
He laughed as he watched my hands pull up the fabric. “Are you offering yourself to me, if I suck on your boss?”
I laughed huskily and kissed his neck. “Hmmmm…is it working?”
He pushed me back and stopped the hands that were now starting to unbutton his shirt. He grinned widely. “No…I’d rather go back to abstaining.”
I smacked his chest. “Some vampire you are. I can’t even get you to nibble on a human for some lovin’.” I shook my head dramatically and sighed. “What is the supernatural world coming to?”
He laughed and walked over to the chicken. “You should be grateful I’m not more inclined to ‘nibble on humans’, as you put it.” Holding the feet with a silicone pot holder, he immersed it in the boiling water for a few seconds, then he set it back on the counter. When it cooled enough, he grabbed a leg and started removing feathers.
My stomach churned at the sight. “Ugh, see-ya. I’ll be in the living room.”
He laughed harder and stopped his hands to look over at me. Pointing at the chicken carcass he was plucking, he said, “This…this makes you squeamish?”
I pointed to the feathers in his hand. “Yes…that…that is gross.”
He was still laughing at me as I turned the corner into his magnificent living room and plopped onto his super soft couch. He prepared the chicken and then brought us out a glass of wine (blood red, of course) to enjoy while the bird cooked. We snuggled on the couch and talked over our couple days apart while we sipped our drinks. He talked about his meeting, and how impressed his boss was with his last article - a feature on how to enjoy the city on a tight budget, which, as I looked around his incredible home, made me chuckle inwardly. I didn’t think he had to “budget” for anything. I told him about my mom and sister wanting to meet him and he gave me an ‘anytime you’re ready’ look. That brought the conversation around to this weekend, and meeting his parents.
We decided…well, he decided and I grudgingly agreed, that he would pick me up at my place after work Friday night. I had a feeling he was mainly picking me up, just so I wouldn’t bail on the whole event. He said he could make the 60 mile drive in 45 minutes, if we hit the traffic just right, so we’d be just in time for dinner. I didn’t know what unsettled me more - how fast we’d be going to get there so quickly, or the arriving in time for dinner part. Was that arriving in time to join his family for a meal, or arriving in time to be the meal?
The majority of my brain really wasn’t worried about his family killing me…after all, he was right, that would be a pretty rude way to meet your son’s girlfriend. But I’m only human, and there is an intrinsic fear of knowingly walking into a predator’s den. Like the fear you get when you go to the zoo, and the only thing separating you from the field where the lionesses are basking in the sun, is a 5 FT high fence. I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure, given the proper incentive, that really wouldn’t pose as much of an obstacle as the zookeepers would have us believe.
After finalising our plans and talking over some details, like, they have a pool, so bring your suit (well of course they do, don’t all vampires swim?), we ate our roasted chicken on the patio and watched the sun set, the burnished reds and oranges rippling across the sky and reflecting in the water below it. When we were full and satisfied, he proceeded to satisfy my other hungers as well…and I’d been right - his very nice dress clothes looked much, much better crumpled up along with mine beside his very spacious and luxurious bed.
To Be Continued in Next Chapter....