I shouldn’t have worried about luxuriating naked in Eric’s lap while we ate up the night with sex. The Authority never showed up. As three o’clock drew closer and closer, it became clear that they weren’t going to pay us an immediate visit. For most of the evening, the tiny part of me that wasn’t consumed with Eric had been nervously waiting for Pam’s knock, the unwanted intrusion signaling the Authority’s arrival. It never came. We’d been left alone.
At two-forty five, we were still curled up together, Eric lying on the sofa with me draped over his chest and between his legs. If it hadn’t been for that unpleasant anticipation, I would have had a scrumptious night.
“So what do you think it means? Them not coming?” I asked, idly fingering the column of his throat.
Pleasant shivers ran up my back as his hands roved along my spine and ribs. “One of two things,” he concluded. “Either they have yet to decide the validity of our story or the seriousness of the crime, or…” His errant hands slid lower and gripped my butt. I gasped, never able to anticipate his lewd nature.
“Or?” I echoed, arching into his hands.
“Or they don’t give a fuck and this situation rates low on their to-do list.”
“God, please let it be the second one.”
“Indeed,” he rasped, kneading his fingers into my flesh.
A beeping sound startled us. I recognized it and fished on the floor beside us until I found my phone. I had a new text message.
Called Jason & asked 2 stay w him 2nite. Safer in human home. Want 2 give U space. C U tomorrow? -Had
I held the phone up to Eric’s face. “That okay with you?”
Eric scanned the message. “Yes,” he nodded. “That’s acceptable.” He reached for his pants on the floor and retrieved his own phone, fingering out a message so quickly that his fingers blurred.
“Pam will take her there and ensure her safety.”
I chuckled as he tossed the phone aside again. “I’d say thanks, but I’m guessing your motives are less than generous.”
His hands resumed accosting me. “Purely selfish,” he agreed. “I want to chain you to my bed and make you scream for hours. However, you’d never allow it with company down the hall.”
I cried out with melodramatic shock and slapped his chest. “Eric!”
“And then,” he continued, “I’m going to drag you outside and watch you scream in the sunlight. Then I’ll let you summon the fairy. Hadley needs to be elsewhere for all of this.”
I couldn’t help giggling, despite trying to look appalled. I just couldn’t manage it when he was looking at me sweetly while talking dirty. Instead, I shook my head affectionately.
“We’ll kill each other at this rate. You know that, right?”
“I’m immortal and you’re too stubborn to die.”
“Still. Maybe I should buy health insurance that covers vampire sex overdosing.”
“Buy whatever you like. Just buy it online so I can fuck you from behind while you type in your details.”
“Gross, Eric!” I smacked his cheek gently.
He smiled darkly, fanning his fingers over my back, refusing to let me pull away from his crudeness. “You love it.”
“Shut up,” I huffed and texted back to Had. Sounds good. B careful. Ignore Pam’s BS. Love U.
Not wanting him to see how totally right he really was, I laid my head on his chest, hiding my eyes and my badly-hidden smile. Subject change.
“So why do you want to meet Claudine?”
His fingers paused. I felt him searching for a way to tell me.
“There are passages in your book that interest me. The whole fucking book interests me. The fact that the Fae seem content to let you learn as you go along is no longer acceptable. If you have other abilities, or if the book is truly prophetic, then your people owe you an explanation.”
“Hm,” I murmured. He was right. As much as I liked Claudine, I did feel a little like E.T., getting information one Reece’s Pieces at a time. It was taking too long, the trail often went cold, and more than anything, it felt like the candy was luring me towards a box propped up with a stick and a string attached.
“What if she doesn’t come? She’s a fairy. Not a wedding singer. I can’t exactly book an appearance.”
“Then I’ll find a way to enter their realm and drag her ass back here.”
“Ha!” I chortled. “The Fae realm is the vampire equivalent of Willy Wonka’s crack house. How do you plan to be rational then? You’ll go balls-out, foaming crazy and drink everyone in sight.”
I tittered to myself, but Eric stayed silent, his arms slithering tighter around me, as if to protect me from my own words.
“Never,” he said quietly over my scoff. “Yours is the only blood I want.”
“Suuuure,” I drew out in a teasing voice. “Why drink cheap human blood spiked with fairy when you can have pure, distilled Chateau Fair-eee?” I curly-qued the last word in exaggerated French.
His grip grew even harder. So hard I wasn’t able to giggle as boisterously as before. My ribs were too trapped. I guessed our senses of humor weren’t syncing up.
“Fuck their sugar water blood. Not only is yours all I want, it’s all that I’m-,” he stopped himself.
I lifted my head off his chest. The questioning look I gave him made his eyes flicker away. He grunted, annoyed.
“It’s all that you’re…?” I prodded.
He shifted beneath me. “It’s all that I’m physically able to drink.”
I grinned again. I admit it, I liked that he was so unwillingly sentimental. His irritated compliments made me all warm and gooey on the inside. It took a lot for a man so thrifty with his affection to openly admit such things. I felt powerful, knowing I could conjure them against his will. Through our bond, he caught the gist of my thoughts and shook his head.
“You misunderstand. I don’t simply cherish your blood. Other blood repulses me. Literally. As badly as if I were offered human food. I doubt…” he paused, his eyes slitting and his chin jutting. “I doubt my body would accept it anymore.”
My smile faded. “That’s ridiculous,” I chided him. “Of course it would. Other people and Tru Blood may not appeal to you anymore, but you could certainly ingest them.”
I could feel his conviction. It didn’t lessen with my words. “No,” he shook his head. “The weres in my basement and your cousin were near inedible. I couldn’t swallow.” He paused again, a faint smile tugging his lips. “Perhaps your jealous little fairy bond is to blame. It precludes me from anything but you.”
I huffed, too incredulous to smile back. “No. No way. What if I’m injured? Or anemic or something? What are you supposed to eat if I can’t feed you?”
He shrugged beneath me. “I’m very old, lover. My needs aren’t that of Comp-,” he stopped short, knowing I hated hearing that name. He amended. “Of younger vampires. I need only a pint a week. And I can survive on less, if need be, for a very long time.”
“Unless you’re injured,” I pointed out.
“True,” he conceded. “But who knows? Perhaps our bonds have accounted for these problems in some way.”
“Jeez,” I breathed softly, lowering back to his chest, my mind reeling. “I really hope it ain’t so. I don’t want you hobbled like that.”
“It’s hardly a handicap, Sookie. Your blood is liquid ecstasy.”
“Yeah, but… I mean… I doubt that fairies put any serious thought into the nutritional needs of vampires when they created this bond thing. I mean…” I looked up at him uncertainly. “What happens when I die? I’m not gonna live forever, right? Will you be able to go back to drinking others?”
His face turned to stone and he snarled angrily at me. Our bond churned up and went dark and ugly. Eric was not pleased by my questions.
“You won’t die,” he barked. “Not ever.”
Aw, baby. I softened, pursing my lips and stroking his arms consolingly. He of all people knew better. “Eric. Come on now. You know that’s not true. I’m human. Humans die. I’ll give you the rest of my life, but…” I kissed his chest. “… Compared to you, I won’t be around for very long.”
In his head, I saw my book. He was flipping rapidly through the pages, his recall of the text incredible. In it, I saw his focus on certain passages, but he moved between them so quickly that I couldn’t read them. He was choking that book in his mind, wringing it out. Demanding it give him something. I wasn’t entirely sure why he was thinking about it at all.
“No,” he shot back with endearing, childlike adamance. “I won’t allow it.”
His insistence was sweet, but a thought occurred to me that left me feeling cold. “Allow it? Do you…?” I couldn’t bring myself to ask.
Fear filtered between us. Eric felt it settling around me and tipped my chin up, making me look at him. “Do I what, lover? Why are you suddenly afraid?”
The chill of the room suddenly leached into my skin and left me shivering. I couldn’t not answer him. “Do you want to turn me? Is that what you mean?”
His shock slapped my mind, followed quickly by his revulsion. “No,” his answer was small compared to the massive objection simmering between us.
I cocked my head. I was glad, but jeez. He’d said that awfully quick. “No? You never even thought about it?”
There was still a lot of swirling dislike in him. Boy, he hated this turn of conversation. “I have,” he admitted. “But only for a moment. I don’t want you as a vampire, Sookie. I want you as you are now. Warm and young and alive. I’ll lose too much of you if I turn you, including your blood.”
That was true, I supposed. He’d starve if I became a vampire. I felt that there was a lot more to his answer, but he left it unsaid and I didn’t press. I didn’t want to upset him anymore, and it was clear that me becoming a vampire angered him almost as much as me dying. Wanting to calm him, I returned to our original point.
“So,” I chirped. “How much blood can I feed you in a given week?” I prodded and squeezed around his middle. “Be sure to round up as high as possible. I need to fatten you up.”
That got him. The idea of him getting fat made him snort with amusement. He squeezed me back, his love killing his anger in a flash. Equally playful, his squeeze turned as evaluating as a livestock judge.
“Petite adult female. Mid-twenties. Average blood pressure. Excellent health.” He leered over my head. “Daily intake of very powerful vampire blood.”
He squeezed my shoulders. My ribs. My arms. Then a very thorough grope of my ass. My thighs. Then an unprofessional caress between them. A final sweep over the whole kaboodle.
“About two and a half pints a week,” he surmised after his assessment. “Possibly more, if I fed a steady supply of my own.”
“Well, there we go,” I concluded jokingly. “Plenty. We don’t need to worry about it.” For now.
He let it go as well. Apparently neither of us wanted to think about me dying or vamping out.
There was a knock at the door.
“Shit!” I muttered, curling into a ball on Eric, trying to hide my nudity. Eric was already on it, grabbing a blanket from the sofa back that I hadn’t even noticed and tossing it over the both of us. My insides went all gooey again. The blanket was deep blue and made of angora. It felt like a hundred silky bunny rabbits frolicking on my skin. Obviously, Eric didn’t need blankets and didn’t give a damn about covering his nekkid ass. Hence, he’d gotten it for me.
“Enter!” he barked, crossing his arms over my back, but refusing to move otherwise. This was his office. Clearly, he figured he could be as nekkid and sexed-up he wanted in it. I pulled the blanket up to my chin and eyed the door with shy expectation. Never had I been without clothes in so many public places since dating Eric.
Pam walked in.
Her smoky eyes sparkled with annoyed amusement before dropping deferentially to the floor. I guess Eric had made it very clear that I wasn’t cool with her seeing us like this. Maybe he wasn’t cool with it, either. Maybe he’d grown a sense of privacy, now that he had a soulmate instead of an exhibitionist Saturday night fuck. Here’s hopin’.
“What?” Eric asked.
“Closing time,” she answered, eyeing the floor like it bored the shit of her. “The human did well tonight as a bartender. You should consider keeping her. She’s practically covered with semen and five-dollar tips.”
“Ew, Pam,” I drew my lips back.
Eric smirked. “Perhaps. As long as the semen and tips came from customers and not you. The Authority?”
Pam waved her hand dismissively. “No show. I even sent Chow outside to check for their spies. There’s nothing.” She raised her finger. “Point of order,” she drawled. “I’m a very tidy fuck. If Hadley’s a spooge rag, it’s someone else’s work.”
“Double ew, Pam.”
“Take her to Jason’s,” Eric ordered. “Walk her inside. Explain that neither of them are to open the door to strangers, lest they get glamored.”
“Leave. Call me when you’re finished.”
It must have burned her up to do it, but she left without any parting shots. God, if Pam were still human, leaving silently like that, without purging her usual snark, would have given her cancer. The door closed and we were alone once again.
“So,” I mused.
“Wanna get dressed and go home?”
He didn’t answer right away and I felt his mild surprise at my using the word ‘home’. I guessed it was a little odd. The word itself was so…normal. Like we were ordinary people, working nights somewhere, eager to get home and watch the sunrise before falling asleep for the day. Call us coalminers or MacDonald’s graveyard shift managers.
I pinned my chin to his chest and wiggled it around. The bone-on-bone tickling made him flinch. I giggled. I loved it when he flinched.
“Yes,” he said finally. “Put your clothes on.”
I went to rise off him, but he grabbed my wrist to get my attention. “Slowly,” he clarified. “I want to watch.”
My eyes went wide and my instincts screamed at me to huddle deep under the blue blanket currently covering my naked body. When men looked this angrily sexual, it was my usual reaction to shy away from them.
For the first time ever, I fought it. My murdering teddybear wanted a peep show. A crazy little bolt of excitement shot through me and told me to give him just that. He was probably so used to women just doing whatever the hell he told them to. Had any of them ever succeeded in beating him at his own game? Made him lose his precious control, slowly exposing or covering up curves until he tore across the room? My guess was no. They stripped or clothed at his command, wide-eyed and giggly, delighted that he was even talking to them. I’d bet my house that he kept all the power in that situation, regardless.
I grabbed the blanket’s edge and slowly peeled it away from my naked body.
Let’s see if he could keep his shit together when a tinkerbell flashed him a wink at the pink.
Standing next to the sofa and his sprawled, rapt body, the first thing I did was stretch. My arms high above my head, I yawned prettily and arched my ribcage. I could feel my breasts lift with the movement, just like I could feel my ass rounding and jutting out in an accidental slut pose.
“Mmmmmm,” I purred lazily, turning this way and that, my eyelids sinking low. “So sore…”
I wasn’t a lie. I’d been fucking a thermos-sized dick for over a week now. I wasn’t a big girl to begin, and it was only because Eric made me so wet and eager that I was able to accommodate him at all. Had he forced himself on me when he’d first met, like he suggested he might have, I would have been battered and bruised from the inside out. Thank goodness he waited for me to come around. All I felt now was mildly achy and thoroughly fucked-up.
Out of the corner of my eye, I was satisfied to see that his initial expression of smug amusement had melted into a hard, predatory mask. I had his attention, that was for sure. I locked my hands behind my head and shook my hair, letting it cascade down my back as I stretched out my triceps. “Ow,” I pouted like a little girl with a boo-boo. Poor, pitiful, naked me. Won’t someone please take pity on me?
Next, I made a show of looking for my clothes. I knew damn well where they were. I’d taken them off and folded them on his desk before he’d come in. Still. I tapped my finger to my lips and looked around, clueless. “Now where are those pesky things? I know they’re around somewhere.”
Looking slightly over my shoulder at him, I bent at my waist, pretending to look under a chair. “Not here. That’s weird.”
I dropped to my hands and knees in front of him, primly lifting his jeans and shirt, searching underneath them while giving him an eyeful of my breasts. “Huh. Not here.”
I wasn’t looking at him, but our bond told me that his gaze was lasering over my back and lowered head. A low, dangerous growl filled the room. I froze, instantly transported back to when I was seven years old and playing in the woods. Playing in the creek and laughing happily to myself, I’d frozen as something huge and angry made that same noise. I’d looked around, terrified, trying to find the source. Seconds later, an enormous German shepherd stalked out of the bushes, its unblinking eyes fused to me from its lowered head. I’d barely been able to scramble up a tree when it lunged at me, snapping at my legs and barking wildly.
Slowly, I looked up at Eric.
His whole body was rigid from his shoulders to his toes. His erection was ramrod straight and pointing accusingly. His eyes burned. His jaw was locked.
I swallowed and committed figurative suicide.
Staring him down, I got to my feet, turned around, and went to his desk.
“Here they are,” I whispered. I reached across the entire length of his desk, bent at the waist. My hips and breasts were pressed into the cold wood. My legs were parted. Knowing what I was asking for and working out the logistics, I climbed up onto it, splaying my knees as wide as possible, my pussy almost touching the surface from my split position.
I reached out for my shorts and tank top just next to his computer.
I never made it.
Eric was behind me in a flash, growling and snarling and taking a single second to position himself before ramming deep.
“Fuck!” he shouted loudly, gripping my hips at their perfect height on his desk and rutting against me in rough, unmeasured strokes.
“Careless…reckless…” he muttered behind me. I whimpered and splayed myself wider, holding perfectly still, allowing my man to fuck me exactly how I wanted him to. I arched my back and mewled sweetly, wanting more.
“I was getting dressed. Like you wanted,” I cried out in an innocent, girlish, I’m-so-fulla-shit voice.
“Shut up,” he hissed, tightening his hold and making me groan with wanton pleasure. “Tight, cockteasing little liar.”
Everything that was angry, hungry, and violent that lived in him was inside me now, physically and mentally. His mind was alive with all kinds of brutal, wild yearnings while his cock was nothing but a monument to fucking for fucking’s sake.
“Yesssssss,” I wailed at his state of mind. “Just like that. Please don’t stop, baby. Oh, God!”
“What am I supposed to do with you?” His raspy voice dripping with blame. “Do I have to keep you on my dick forever, just so I can stop constantly wanting you like this?”
“Uh-huh,” I hiccuped, his battering hips making it hard to speak. Or think. Or do anything except come screaming-
“Eric Eric Eric!” I sobbed, my hunched, prone body imploding in ecstasy. My taut thigh muscles were trembling under the strain. He didn’t slow down. I was forced to endure the overstimulation, crying and grunting under his force. Because he wasn’t finished yelling at me yet.
“So fucking tight when you’re spread like this,” he noted, his thumbs edging along my inner thighs, offering no support, just enjoying their firm, flexed position. He could feel my strain, but did nothing to lessen it. Bastard. “Maybe I’ll just chain you here instead of bed. No clothes. No freedom. You’d stay bent over my desk, ready for me whenever I feel like coming all over your ass.”
“Eerrric,” I moaned pitifully. Even to my own ears, I sounded like a needy little whore.
“Shut up,” he repeated, sinking all the way in, then pumping against me without withdrawing. “Time-squandering girl. Shut the fuck up and scream.”
I didn’t call him out on his contradiction. I just screamed. The bar was closing. The employees and straggler customers were quiet. Everyone heard us as Eric joined me, roaring and cursing as thick, ropy jets of his come filled me up. I could feel the bruises forming as the squeezed my hips a few times more, holding me down and marking me with the scent of his sex.
With a gentleness that belied our roughness, he lowered my legs and cuddled me from behind, letting himself slip free in the process. I murmured my gratitude, my hands sliding over his arms around me.
A softer, much more contented growl vibrated against my back. Angry Eric had fucked himself into Happy Eric again. I smiled softly.
“Have I hurt you?” he asked against my hair.
His purr deepened and his hands molded my curves in lazy strokes. “My beloved,” he muttered against me.
My smile grew. “You’re right, time’s a wastin’. Put your pants on.” I looked over my shoulder with a reproving glare. “Be sure not to look at me when I’m putting on mine.”