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Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 11-15 - Laurell K. Hamilton [657]

By Root 6410 0
decide who is higher rank?”

“Thea,” Samuel said.

“No,” I said, “it is a way to decide this. Marriage beats just dating, I’m okay with that.”

Samuel frowned at me. “We were warned that you had a temper, Ms. Blake.”

I shrugged. “I do, but Thea’s reasoning is as good a way as any to decide which of us offers up a body part.”

“You don’t find it insulting to acknowledge her as greater than yourself?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

He looked at me, looked at me as if he were trying to see all the way through to my spine. It wasn’t vampire tricks, it was just him trying to decide what I was, or wasn’t. Once I would have squirmed under such a look, but not now. Now I just stood there and gave him calm eyes back.

Thea made some small movement that drew my attention back to her. She was waiting, outwardly patient, but there was a demand in her. Time to put up, or shut up.

I offered her my wrist.

She took my hand in hers, and again her hand was cool in mine. She wrapped her hand around mine, and used it to draw me in toward her body. She wasn’t going to take the wrist, she was going for the neck.

I didn’t fight, but I did pull back a little.

She hesitated, giving me those strange black eyes of hers. “If I outrank you, Anita, then it is my choice where to touch.”

I shook my head. “No, that you’re trying for the neck instead of the wrist means only one of three things: you don’t trust me, you’re showing how big and bad you are, or you’re thinking sex. Which is it, Thea?”

“The second,” she said. She kept trying to pull me in against her body, and I started to let her. The strength in her one hand let me know that if I really wanted to struggle I’d have a fight on my hands. She was strong, like shapeshifter strong.

She kept her grip on my wrist as she used her other hand to pull me in against her body, until the two of us were pressed together, not tight, but so our bodies brushed from chest to thighs.

I had to talk staring at her shoulder. She was just too tall for me. “Why do you want me to know that you’re big and bad?”

“My wife is very competitive with other women, Anita,” Samuel said. “Surely Jean-Claude mentioned that, as he mentioned your temper to us.”

“He said something about it, but…” She let go of my wrist so she could slide that arm around my back, pressing me closer to her. Her other hand was sliding up my back toward my hair. But I hadn’t understood what competitive meant, I thought. It took almost everything I had not to tense up as she entwined her body around me, close now, so close, lover close, sex close.

Her breasts were small and tight, and she wasn’t wearing a bra. Eeek. I felt stupid with my arms limp at my sides, and I didn’t really want to encourage her, but…I ended up sort of hugging her just to keep my balance on the damned high heels.

She leaned her mouth close to my face and whispered, “I do want you to understand that I am superior to you, Anita, but that is only half my reason.”

My pulse sped up a little at that. I started to turn to look at her face, but she grabbed a handful of curls and kept my face turned away. I was left staring at the man who had blushed. He looked at me, full face, and he suddenly looked like a younger version of Samuel. How had I not seen it before? He mouthed, I am sorry.

I had trouble speaking around my pulse now, because I had that bad feeling that something was about to happen. Something I wasn’t going to enjoy. “What’s the other half of your reason?” I asked, voice breathy, holding that edge of nervousness that held a touch of fear.

“I want to know what you are, Anita,” she whispered, and her breath was warmer than it had been. Her hands were warm now, as if she had caught a sudden fever. It reminded me of the way some of the shapeshifters felt close to the full moon.

“What’s happening?” I asked, but my voice was only a whisper.

Her fingers entwined through my hair until she held my face immobile with her strong hands, and I could feel the heat of her fingers through my hair. She drew her face back from my neck, and stared down at me. She held my face

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