Rednecks 'N' Roses (4 page)

* * * * *

Amber tossed and turned on her bed. If the humidity was this bad now, what would it be like in August? The window was open but no breeze stirred the curtains.

Rising on her elbow, she punched her pillow and flipped it over. “I need to get an air conditioner.” The silky nightgown she wore was plastered to her body.

She was hot.

She was sweaty.

She was horny.

Amber flopped onto her stomach. “I am not horny. It’s just hot. I asked my vampire those questions and I got ideas about what I wanted to write. That’s all. I’m not really horny. I’m just thinking about what to write.”

Her nipples ached.

Moisture seeped between her legs.

Her clit ached.

She flopped onto her back. “Okay, I’m horny. It’s been a long time. I’ve been so busy…” Closing her eyes, she touched herself. “Okay. Just a quickie.”

She slid her fingers between her thighs, nudged the crotch of her silk panties aside and brushed her aching clit.

Immediately she was sucked into a scarlet vortex of passion. Her fingers seemed to take on a life of their own as they swirled and dipped and rubbed. Her nipples tightened more and bolts of tingling pain seemed to burst from the tips. Moisture drenched her fingers as pressure built.

She arched her back. “Oh God! What’s happening? I’m so hot!” Was there a voice in her ear? A man’s voice? Spread her legs?

She complied, slipping her fingers in and out, pinching and rubbing. Body slick with sweat, she let her free hand drift up her rib cage to knead her breast then pinch her nipple. Tender pain surged straight to her groin. “Ahhhh!” She pumped her hips against her fingers. When her orgasm finally exploded, tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhaaaahhhhh.” Rolls of pleasure rolled over her as her internal muscles shuddered Slowly, her muscles relaxed, her breathing slowed and the final shiver danced down her spine. She opened her eyes and sighed. Never had she experienced an orgasm like that, neither alone nor with someone. Her entire body was limp with satisfaction and she was physically sated as she had never been before.

Except—her neck itched.

The bedroom curtains billowed with a gentle breeze.

Birds sang jubilant songs.

Amber dragged her eyes open and looked at the clock sitting on the nightstand. She blinked to focus and looked again. Six o’clock! She rolled over and stared at the window. Against the white blossoms of the dogwood tree sat a bright red cardinal, singing happily.

“Hey, you stupid bird, shut up. It’s only six o’clock. I don’t want to get up yet.” Ignoring her, the cardinal continued to chirp.

The warm bump against Amber’s back moved. Midnight planted her hind feet against Amber’s ass and pushed herself into a long stretch. Her claws dug into Amber’s left cheek.

Amber rolled away very quickly. “Ouch! Midnight! How often have I told you not to use me for your stretching board?”

Rubbing her ass, Amber pushed herself into a sitting position and yawned. Six o’clock in the morning. Damn, but she was spoiled. Even when she was working, she’d been able to sleep until seven, or seven-thirty if she rushed. She blinked. Oh well. The whole house had to be cleaned, so getting up early was probably a good thing. Once she had two or three cups of coffee, she’d be okay.

Standing, she stretched, slipped on her bedroom slippers and shuffled out the door to the bathroom.

When she pushed the door open, she stopped short. The shower curtain was drawn completely around the tub. Was her vampire sleeping there again? She stepped closer to the tub and pulled the curtain back.

Rusty lay as he had yesterday, on his back, his red-gold beard spread over his chest.

Bending over, Amber took the time to study him more closely. Really, once the beard was gone, he wouldn’t look half bad. He had high cheekbones and a very nice nose. No bumps, no arches, no hairs growing out of it. And, considering how bushy his beard was, his eyebrows were much neater—and not even close to meeting over the bridge of his nose. His mouth was nice, firm lips, not too full, not too thin.

Her attention returned to his beard and she shook her head. When he woke tonight, she’d tell him he had to shave it off. No self-respecting vampire had a beard. She pursed her lips. What if he had a weak chin? Or a receding chin? Well, she’d worry about that after he shaved off his beard.

And tonight was the last night he slept here. What kind of vampire slept in a bathtub?

Pressure on her bladder interrupted her thoughts. Amber pushed the shower curtain shut and felt her cheeks grow warm. She really had to pee. She knew her vampire couldn’t see through the curtain but what if he could hear? She bit her lower lip and chewed. Could vampires hear while they were in their sleep mode? The pressure on her bladder increased and she glanced over her shoulder at the toilet. She could pee here or run downstairs to the toilet in the laundry room. After a muttered curse, she spun around and sprinted for the staircase. No way was a vampire going to listen to her pee.

* * * * *

Six hours later, Amber flopped onto the living room sofa with a groan. Breathing deeply, she inhaled the sweet scent of the bouquet of wild roses she’d gathered from the hill behind the house and placed on the coffee table. What a morning! But the downstairs was clean. Every floor was scrubbed or vacuumed, every nook and cranny was dusted and the few dishes in the kitchen cupboards had been washed—thanks to the portable dishwasher she found hidden behind the ironing board and a pile of empty cardboard boxes in a corner of the laundry room. Not that she’d been surprised to find it hidden away like that. Aunt Ernestine always refused to use the dishwasher in her own kitchen. Said her electric and water bills would go up.

Amber closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “God, but she was cheap. Uncle Henry must have bought this dishwasher.”

Midnight scrambled up into her lap and began to purr.

A blaring horn—and Midnight’s claws—jarred Amber back to consciousness. “What? Who?” The cat yowled, leaped from her lap, bumped into the leg of the coffee table, then disappeared beneath the chair that sat diagonal to the sofa.

A knock sounded on the front door just as Amber had gathered her senses. Pushing herself to her feet, she hurried to the door.

The sheriff was standing on her porch, staring off into the distance.

“Good—ah,” she checked her watch, “—afternoon, Sheriff. What can I do for you?” He turned, took off his hat and nodded. “Afternoon, Miss Blake. Was driving by and thought I’d stop and make sure you were okay.”

Is this normal? “I’m fine, thanks. You really didn’t need to drive back here, you know,” she said through the screen door.

He nodded. “Just making sure.” He turned, then stopped and turned back to her. “Ah, just wanted to mention. There’s this Nipple…”

Amber glanced down at her chest then looked into his face.

“I beg your pardon.”

His flush rose all the way to his hairline. “Ah, no not your… Ah, I mean these Nipples. Ah hell. Look.

Nipple is a pretty common family name around here.”

“Oh. So that’s what you meant yesterday. You were talking about people.” His face reddened even more. “Yeah. Some of the Nipples like to hunt out of season. Anyway, there’s this other Nipple, Rusty. Tall fella, bushy beard. He likes to take walks at night. Just wanted to tell you he’s not dangerous or nothing. You don’t need to be scared if you see him wandering around. He won’t hurt you.”

Amber stared at the sheriff. Rusty was sleeping in her bathtub as they spoke but the sheriff obviously didn’t know that. Good. Rusty was her vampire and she wasn’t sharing him with anybody else.

“Thanks for letting me know. I won’t worry if I see him.”

“Good. I’ll be on my way then. Have a good day.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.”

Frowning, Amber watched as his car disappeared down the driveway. What was that all about? Did he know Rusty was a vampire? If he knew, how many other people knew? Nobody was supposed to know if a vampire lived nearby. They kept their presence secret from everyone. What the hell was Rusty doing telling people what he was?

Spinning on her heel, Amber headed for the kitchen, mumbling. “Damn it. What’s wrong with Rusty?

What is he, too far out in the woods to know how he’s supposed to act?” That thought brought her up short. He mustn’t have been a vampire very long. That’s why he still wore those terrible clothes and went hunting for deer with a rifle when he could just as easily catch one with his bare hands. She smiled. She’d teach him everything he had to know about being a vampire. What a great novel this would make!

The heavy weight was on his chest again.

He cracked his eyes open.

That cross-eyed cat was staring down her nose. The pink tip of its tongue was wedged between those upside-down fangs again. A drop of saliva rolled off its tongue and plopped onto his beard.

Rusty erupted upward. “Jesus H. Christ. There’s cat spit in my beard!” The cat dug four sets of claws into his chest and held on.

Amber had just put the last plate on its shelf when a high, keening yowl by Midnight, accompanied by a very colorful string of obscenities, rattled the rafters. Dropping her dishtowel, she turned and sprinted for the staircase.

Arms waving, a howling, cursing mass of red and black hair stumbled, slid and skidded down the staircase to land in a heap on the floor.

Fisting her hands on her hips, Amber nudged the jean-clad leg closest to her with her foot. “What the hell is going on?”

“Your freakin’ weirdo cat attacked me, that’s what!” Rusty shouted as he grabbed Midnight with both hands and tried to pull her off his chest.

Midnight dug her claws in deeper.

“Eeeeooow! It’s skinning me alive. Get it off! Get it off!” Bending, Amber stuck her hand under Midnight’s nose. “If you’d stop screaming, she’d let go.

You’re scaring her to death, you idiot.”

Rusty let go of the cat and tried to push himself to his feet. “I’m scaring her? I’m scaring her! She’s the one who was sitting on my chest when I woke up.”

Amber pushed him back down. “Stay still and stop yelling and she’ll let go. Come on, Midnight.

Come to Mommy. Here kitty, kitty.”

“Meeeoooow!” Midnight sheathed her claws, spun around, used Rusty’s chest for a springboard and leaped into Amber’s arms—almost. She misjudged again and completely missed Amber, landing instead on the floor to her right. Claws scratching the hardwood floor, she shot across the room, bounced off the corner of the sofa and disappeared beneath it.

“Now look what you’ve done. You scared Midnight.”

Legs stretched out before him, Rusty sat at the bottom of the stairs and gaped at her. “That demon spawn you call a cat started it. She shouldn’t have been sitting on my chest. Where the devil did you get that monster anyway?”

Straightening, she stared down at him, her hands on her hips. “Monster! Midnight isn’t a monster. It’s not her fault she has crossed eyes and weird teeth. And I got her at an animal shelter. What was I supposed to do, leave her there so she could be euthanized? No way, buster.”

“Ever heard of survival of the fittest?” he grumbled as he rolled to his hands and knees then pushed himself to his feet.

Amber had a very nice view of his ass in his threadbare bibs—and a very nice ass it was, too.

Once on his feet, he turned to face her. A hunk of whiskers drifted to the floor, an obvious fatality of Midnight’s claws.

Rusty rubbed his chin. “Damn cat was pulling my whiskers out by the roots.” Amber crossed her arms over her chest. Now was as good a time as any to start teaching him how to be a proper vampire. “You have to shave it off anyway.” He stiffened. “What the fuck are you talking about, lady?”

“You haven’t been a vampire very long, have you?”

He began to edge away.

Amber stepped in front of him. No way was he getting away this time.

Rusty stopped when she placed herself between him and the door. He flared his nostrils. She smelled like sweat, cleaning products and woman—hot woman.

His canines began to ache and his cock stirred.

He wanted her.

He closed his eyes, willing his cock to remain where it was and his teeth to stay put in his gums. The one time he’d stolen a kiss from Sue Ellen Keiser, his daddy had whomped him good. Never force a woman—not even for a kiss. He wasn’t about to start now, even if he was a vampire.

He heard her foot stamp against the floor. “Are you listening to me?” Rusty opened his eyes. Damn, she was even prettier now that she was getting mad. “What?”

“You haven’t been listening to me, have you? Look. I’m willing to help you but you have to cooperate.”

“What?” He tried to concentrate on her words but the faint pulse beating at the base of her throat was so…delectable. He clenched his jaws to keep his fangs from erupting.

“I said, you need a coffin. You can’t sleep in the bathtub anymore. I checked out the cellar. There’s a nice place for a coffin in the one corner.”

The word coffin sank into his subconscious and the fantasy of having her buck-ass naked beneath him winked out. “Coffin? What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re a vampire, right? Vampires sleep in coffins during the day.”

“Are you freaking crazy? I ain’t dead.”

A superior smile on her face, Amber nodded. “Of course you are. You’re a vampire, one of the living dead.”

He rose to his full height and leaned closer. “No way am I getting into a frickin’ coffin, lady, no matter what you say. I ain’t gonna wake up some morning underneath six feet of dirt. I like the bathtub and that’s where I’m staying.”

She rose on her tiptoes and looked him straight in the eye. “Okay, I’m willing to compromise on the coffin but you are not sleeping in the bathtub anymore. What if I want to take a bath?"

Amber naked, squirming around on top of him while she took a bath? Hot damn. “I don’t mind. Not like I’ll drown or anything like that.”

Her mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut. Then she sputtered a bit. Finally she shut up, glared at him and said, “Okay. And every night when you wake up, Midnight will be sitting on your chest.” Rusty clenched his fists. She knew how to fight dirty. Frickin’ cat.

Holding up her hands, palms outward, she took a step back. “Look. I don’t want to fight. Why don’t you just sleep in the front bedroom. There’s only one window with a tree in front of it to help block the sun. And the drapes are pretty heavy. They won’t let any sun in. Don’t worry, I won’t let you burn to a crisp and evaporate.”

“Evaporate? What the hell are you talking about?”

She shook her head and the look on her face was the one his mother used when she was trying to explain something to her little Sunday school kids who didn’t quite understand what she was talking about. “If you stay out in the sun, you’ll burn up to ashes.” He snorted. “Will not. I’ll get a hell of a sunburn that’ll take a couple of weeks to heal and my eyes will water so much I won’t be able to see. But I won’t ‘burn up to ashes’.” Her lips faded into a thin line and she shook her head. “Yes you will. Everybody knows that vampires burn up if they get caught out in the sun.”

He threw his hands up. “Shit, lady. I’m the vampire here. I know damn well what happens if I stay out in the sun.”

She shook her head again. “But…”

“Enough. I’m going hunting.” He reached behind the door for his rifle.

It was gone.

“Where’s my gun?”

“Vampires don’t use guns and they don’t drink deer blood.”

“I like my gun and I like deer blood.”

She shook her head—again. “No. You have to learn to drink human blood. You have to stalk humans, not deer. And you have to get rid of that beard. Vampires don’t have beards. And it would probably be a good idea to dye your hair black—unless you’d prefer blonde. Spike is blonde and he’s pretty cool. I don’t think there are any redheaded vampires—at least none that are male.” At first, Rusty just stared at her. The longer she rambled on, though, listing one thing after another he had to do to become a ‘proper vampire' , the tighter his chest felt. Shave off his beard. No more hunting deer. Spike? Who the hell was Spike? Dye his hair. Sleep in a bed. Do this. Do that. Who the hell did she think she was, his wife?

When he had to fight the urge to put his hands around her throat and strangle her, he stepped around her, slammed the screen door open and stomped across the porch.

She followed him, her list of dos and don’ts going on and on.

A few steps from the edge, a sharp, stabbing pain in his bladder drove the breath from his lungs.

Tears rolling down his cheeks, he ripped his fly open and pulled out his cock. No sooner did he have it in hand, than urine streamed over the side of the porch.

She followed and finished her list with “And you’re going to have to change your name. Rusty Nipple is not a good vampire name.”

Silence—except for the splatter of urine on loose stones.

She stepped to his side and gasped. “What are you doing!

He closed his eyes. God, what a relief. “Pissing.” Every muscle in his body sagged with relief. This was the first time he’d pissed in a month. He’d been feeling more and more bloated as the days passed.

First a hard-on, now a good piss. Maybe having this woman around would be a good thing.

“Off the porch! You can’t do that off the porch. It’s…it’s…uncivilized. Besides, vampires don’t piss

—er, urinate.”

Grinning, he turned and stuffed his cock back in his pants. “This one does.” Chapter Nine

Amber blinked and gasped and gulped and stuttered as warmth surged into her cheeks. Her vampire had just peed in front of her—off the edge of the porch, no less. He peed! Vampires didn’t pee. Did they?

“And I’m not changing my name,” he said as he pulled up his zipper. “My grandpap’s name was Rusty Nipple just like his grandpap’s. It’s a family tradition. So forget it. Now, I’m going hunting. See you later.”

“But…”

He disappeared into the darkness.

Nails digging into her palms, Amber glared at the spot where he’d disappeared. “Stiff-necked, narrow-minded, uneducated, bad-mannered…hick! All I’m trying to do is help you, you…you…

moron,” she yelled into the darkness. Spinning, she stomped into the house and slammed the door shut behind her. “Ungrateful ass,” she muttered as she paced back and forth. “Doesn’t he realize how ridiculous he’s acting? He’s a vampire, one of the hottest, sexiest beings there is, not some redneck hick. I’m just trying to help him.”

She continued to pace, arguing with him as if he were pacing next to her.

Finally she stopped and settled onto the couch. “Okay, deep breaths, Amber. Take deep breaths.

You’ve got yourself all worked up over nothing. You’ve already figured out he hasn’t been a vampire long. Patience. You just need to be more patient. He’ll come around.” Outside the window, Rusty stood in the shadows and watched Amber pace back and forth. Even though the window was closed, with his enhanced hearing, he had no trouble hearing every muttered word. He grinned and even laughed out loud once. What were the odds she’d use those particular words in her novel?

As he watched, she lifted her hand and shook her finger at the sofa.

He chuckled. She sure was a spitfire.

Finally she raked her honey-blond hair back from her face and flopped down on the soft cushions.

Then the fiend from hell she called a cat staggered across the room to sit at her feet. Amber reached down and picked her up. It settled on her lap, her purr rumbling.

She lifted the cat and cuddled her to her chest. “What am I going to do, Midnight? My vampire doesn’t want to cooperate with me. All I want to do is write my book so I can make some money and support myself. Is that such a bad thing?”

The cat continued to purr.

Rusty wished he was the one being stroked.

Amber looked down at her cat. “Well, sitting here bitching isn’t going to do me any good. I’m going to take a bath and you’re going to guard the door in case Rusty comes back.” She shook her head.

“Rusty Nipple. How in the world am I going to make a decent vampire out of a man named Rusty Nipple? Who will take him seriously?”

As she disappeared from sight, Rusty checked out the tree growing next to the house. Yep, nice solid branch just where he wanted it. The ten-foot jump required little effort and he was comfortably ensconced against the wide trunk with a clear view through the bathroom window when Amber walked in and started to strip off her clothing.

“Oh yeah, baby,” he muttered. His cock rose to attention before her tee shirt hit the floor. “Damn, do you wear bras like that every day?”

Instead of a utilitarian, white cotton bra, Amber’s was hot pink satin with lace edging. Around here, women only wore bras like that when they had somewhere special to go to, like a wedding or demolition derby. If Amber wore one this fancy just to clean the house, what did she wear for special occasions?

Her jeans followed her tee shirt. Rusty yanked down his zipper and let his cock spring free. Hell, she was wearing one of those thong things instead of white cotton panties. Just a bitty piece of pink satin barely covering the golden triangle between her legs and when she turned around and bent over…

Rusty swallowed to prevent drool from dribbling into his beard. His cock jerked and his fangs exploded out of his gums. Nothing but a tiny pink string between her ass cheeks. And what an ass it was! Last night it had looked good in wet denim, but bare, decorated with a couple of pink strings!

Holy shit. That was an ass meant for a man’s hands to grab and squeeze as he shoved his cock into her from behind. Did those cheeks feel as smooth and tight as they looked?