“When I was away from Jean Claude, away from his body, his voice, I could be embarrassed, scratchy with discomfort that I was dating him. When I was away from him, I could talk myself out of him-almost. But never when I was with him. When I was with him, my stomach dropped to my feet and I had to fight very hard not to say things like golly.
I settled for: ‘You look spectacular, as always. What are you doing here on a night that I told you not to come?’ What I wanted to do was throw myself around him like a coat and have him carry me over the threshold clinging to him like a monkey. But I wasn’t going to do that. It lacked a certain dignity. Besides it sort of scared me how much I wanted him-and how often. He was like a new drug. It wasn’t vampire powers. It was good old-fashioned lust. But it was still scarey, so I had set up parameters. Rules. He followed them, most of the time.
He smiled, and it was the smile I’d grown to both love and dread. The smile said he was thinking wicked thoughts, things that two or more could do in darkened rooms, where the sheets smelled of expensive perfume, sweat and other bodily fluids. The smile had never made me blush until we started having sex. Sometimes all he had to do was smile, and heat rushed up my skin like I was thirteen and he was my first crush. He thought it was charming. It embarrassed the hell out of me.
‘You son of a bitch,’ I said softly.”
‘Blue Moon’, an Anita Blake, Vampire hunter novel.
Thank you, Laurell K Hamilton, it’s an odd, thoroughly enjoyable combination of corny and kickass and I must confess, you’re keeping me up, hooked, squirming, turning page after page(long after I ought by rights be asleep), creaming my sheets late, late into the vampiric hours.
Yeah, oh yeah, time for bed!