Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 11-15 - Laurell K. Hamilton [320]
I was breathing a little hard myself. My voice was shaky when I said, “That wasn’t metaphysical shit. That was just me, just you.”
His eyes closed, and a shudder ran through him from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. He swayed, and if I hadn’t caught him around the waist, I think he’d have fallen. His arms slid around me, and he laid his head on my shoulder. He hadn’t exactly fainted, but he was limp in my arms. I realized, he was totally passive. I knew in that moment I could do anything I wanted to him. The thought didn’t excite me, it scared me. I had enough trouble running my own life, I didn’t want someone else’s. But I kept my doubts to myself. He had enough of his own without me sharing.
“You promise,” he whispered, “promise you’ll mark me tonight.”
He’d said the P word. Shit. “I promise,” I whispered it into the vanilla warmth of his hair.
He drew a deep breath that moved his bare chest up and down along my clothed one. My body reacted to it, whether I wanted it to or not. Nipples hardening from the brush of him.
He drew back enough to see my face, and the look in his eyes was all male, and brought heat in a rush up my face. It sped my pulse in my throat. He was submissive, but underneath all that was something that could have been very dangerous, and it was there in his eyes now, that promise of disaster.
“Come to the club tonight, see my act, please.”
I shook my head. “I work tonight.”
“Please.” The please was more than just a word, it filled his eyes. He wanted me to see him on stage, surrounded by screaming fans. Maybe he wanted to impress on me that even if I didn’t want him, others did. I guess I’d earned having my face rubbed in it.
“What time do you go on?”
He told me.
“I can catch some of it, but probably not all of it.”
He kissed me, hard and strangely chaste, and bounced toward the door. “I’ll need to see if my costume is ready for tonight.” He turned at the door with that eager look still on his face. “What if I turn furry, will you still mark me?”
“I don’t do furry,” I said.
He poked his lip out at me, like a spoiled child.
“You are so damn pushy, you do know that, right?”
He smiled.
“I don’t do furry.”
“But if I’m not furry, you’ll do it?” Something about the way he asked it made me suspcious, but I nodded.
“Yes.”
He vanished into the dimness of the living room. “I’ll see you tonight at the club.”
I yelled after him. “If there’s another murder, all bets are off. Murder takes precedence over watching my boyfriend strip.” There was that word again, boyfriend.
I heard Nathaniel’s laugh trail down the stairs. It reminded me of another man in my life, who’d left me with a laugh this morning. I was just amusing the hell out of everybody today.
27
MICAH’S KISS WAS still warm on my lips when Ronnie rang the doorbell. Having had no sleep last night was finally catching up with Micah, so he’d gone to bed. Besides, Ronnie wouldn’t want an audience.
She was eyeing the door as I dragged it open. “What happened here?”
I tried to think of a short version, couldn’t come up with one, and said, “Let’s get coffee first.”
Her eye brows went up, but it was all I could see of her eyes behind the dark sunglasses. She shrugged. She was wearing the brown leather jacket that had become her latest favorite coat. She had it zipped up more than halfway and a cable-knit sweater peeked out from under it.
I hid my frown. It had to be seventy outside. I eased the door back into its frame. “Is it cold outside, or am I missing something?”
Her shoulders hunched. “I’ve been cold since I left the wedding last night. I just can’t seem to get warm.”
I did not remark that most shapeshifters have a slightly higher body temperature than we mere humans, and that maybe the warmth she was missing went by the name of Louie. I didn’t say it, because it would