Rednecks 'N' Roses (6 page)

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Late that afternoon, Midnight strolled into the bathroom. Her human had bustled from room to room part of the day, disappeared in her moving box for part of the day, and now sat before the shiny box making clicking noises with her fingers. This was the perfect time for a catnap. Midnight stuck her tongue out between her teeth, stared at both blurry toilets and decided to leap onto the one on the right. A slight purr seeped from her throat as she landed on the closed lid. Then she turned toward the tub. As big as it was, it was much harder to miss. After a couple of jerky, false starts, she leaped and landed on the still form of the man lying inside.

She stopped and sniffed. Something was different. She minced delicately up over his chest and sniffed his chin. Where was all that soft, comfortable, warm hair? She sniffed again. Didn’t her human’s legs smell like this sometimes?

Midnight licked his chin. Yes, Amber’s legs tasted like this sometimes.

She rubbed her cheek against his chin, turned, kneaded his chest a bit, turned again and snuggled down. Her fluffy tail wrapped around her and her paws tucked into her chest.

She closed her eyes and began to purr.

A loud bellow followed by an equally loud yowl completely destroyed Amber’s train of thought and she stopped typing. Pushing her chair back, she glared at the urn that held Aunt Ernestine. “You’d think he’d be used to waking up with Midnight on his chest.” Still grumbling, she stomped through the kitchen and living room and up the stairs.

Another bellow greeted her at the top or the steps. “My beard! Where the fuck’s my beard! Damn you, woman. What did you do to me?”

When Amber walked into the bathroom, Rusty was staring into the medicine cabinet mirror with a look of horror on his face.

Amber glared at him. “What do you think you’re doing looking into that mirror? You can’t see yourself.”

He turned, his eyes flashing with green fire. “Like hell I can’t. What the fuck did you do to my beard?”

She fisted her hands on her hips. “I shaved it off. I told you vampires didn’t have beards. And they can’t see themselves in mirrors, either.”

He stepped closer. “Says who?”

She didn’t back down. “Everybody knows that vampires can’t see themselves in mirrors because they don’t have souls.”

He threw up his hands. “Of all the fuckin’ bullshit.” Grabbing her toothbrush, he held it up. “Does this have a soul?”

“Of course not.”

“Can you see it in a mirror?’

“Of course.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, a superior grin on his now hairless face.

Amber opened her mouth, bit back what she was going to say and snapped it shut. Damn know-it-all.

She frowned. “Can you really see yourself in the mirror?” Jerking his head in the mirror’s direction, he turned and stepped in front of it.

Amber stepped behind him and looked over his shoulder.

Both their reflections stared back at her.

“Well, shit. I’m going to have to rewrite an entire chapter.” As she turned to leave, Rusty grabbed her upper arm. “Who said you could shave off my beard?” Amber jerked her arm.

He let her go.

She didn’t hide the irritation in her voice. “Take a good look at yourself, Rusty. You look a hell of a lot better without the beard. Didn’t anyone ever tell you you were handsome? Or is this the first time you’ve been shaved since you started growing whiskers?” As her words sank in, Rusty smiled. She thought he was handsome. What else did she think about him? “Women have told me I’m handsome—with and without the beard.” She snorted. “Well, whoever told you you were handsome with the beard needs glasses—or her head examined. Do you know there were leaves in it? And sticks? Don’t you groom yourself?” Rusty kept his attention focused on Amber. Yep. She got prettier as she got angrier. So there were sticks in his beard. It was her fault. Ever since she’d arrived, he’d been running around ass backwards.

“And when was the last time you changed your clothes? You’ve been wearing those same bibs and same shirt since I got here three days ago. You can’t do that. Vampires are suave and debonair—sharp dressers. They don’t wear old bib overalls and holey flannel shirts.” Rusty absently fingered the hole in the elbow of his shirt. He had been in these same clothes for three days. Shit, this woman really had him screwed up. He lifted his arm and sniffed. Damn, but he needed a shower.

Quickly, he unfastened the top of his bibs. As they fell to his waist, he began to unbutton his shirt.

He grinned as Amber stopped issuing orders in mid-sentence.

His shirt dropped to the floor and he stood before her bare-chested, his bibs slipping down to his hips.

What was that gurgling in her throat? What she choking?

She opened her mouth and squeaked. Snapping her mouth shut, she cleared her throat then said,

“What are you doing?”

“Taking off my clothes.” He hooked his fingers under his bibs at his hips.

Another gurgle. “Why?”

“You’re right. I need a shower. Want to scrub my back?” He pushed them to the floor. He never did like wearing underwear.

Her face turned bright red. “Scrub your back? Are you nuts? Scrub your own back.” Spinning, she left the bathroom a lot faster than she’d entered.

Chuckling, Rusty turned on the water. His cock stirred and he looked down. “Don’t worry, little buddy. You’ll be making Amber’s acquaintance as soon as I can coax her into bed.” Amber galloped down the steps, heat burning in her cheeks.

He’d stripped. Right in front of her. Just like that! Without any embarrassment.

Her lips twitched. Guess he could act like a vampire if he wanted to.

When she reached the small room off the kitchen that she’d turned into her study, she shut the door behind her and leaned back against it. Taking a deep breath, she sighed. Who’d have thought Rusty would look so good naked. That bushy beard and those baggy clothes had certainly fooled her.

Broad shoulders and a wide chest with only a sprinkling of reddish-gold hair. A flat stomach, lean hips, and firm thighs. And between those thighs more red-gold hair—and a nice, thick cock.

Amber shivered. Just how large could that cock get?

“Meow?” Midnight stared at her from the old leather chair on the other side of the room. She rolled to the floor and minced across the room. After bumping into Amber’s leg, she twined herself between them, rubbing her cheek against Amber’s shins.

Picking Midnight up and cuddling the cat against her chest, Amber sauntered across the room. Setting the cat on the table she was using for a desk, she sat down in front of her computer. A vampire hero with red-gold hair was a definite possibility now. Besides, what other author had ever written about a auburn-haired vampire? Being different was a good thing.

Midnight sat next to Aunt Ernestine’s urn and meowed.

Amber flipped her hair back over her shoulder. “Don’t use that tone of voice with me, Midnight.

Everybody writes about dark-haired vampires with a blonde thrown in here and there. Now that he’s cleaning himself up, Rusty is turning into a good model. Why not use him?” Chapter Thirteen

Engrossed in her writing, Amber never heard the door open.

“What are you doing?”

The entire table rattled as she leaped from her chair. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to knock!” Rusty shrugged. “Nope.”

Muttering something about hicks and no manners, Amber glared at him. “Do you want something?” He shrugged. “Just being neighborly since we are living together.” He grinned. “Sort of.” Amber simply stared and swallowed. This was one redneck who cleaned up nice.

His hair was pulled back into a pony tail. And without his beard, Rusty’s grin was devastating.

Her gaze left his mouth and roamed down his body. “Where did you get those clothes?” His grin remained. “They’re mine. Keep them stored in the spare bedroom. I don’t wear the same clothes all the time, you know.”

She blinked. Tight jeans clung to his legs and hips. The pine-colored golf shirt he wore brought out the green of his eyes. It also stretched quite nicely over his shoulders and chest. And he was wearing cowboy boots. Cowboy boots! A vampire who wore cowboy boots?

Leaning back against the door, he crossed his arms over his chest.

She swallowed again and cleared her throat. “Ah, may I ask you some questions?” His grin never wavered. “Shoot.”

She grabbed a tablet and pencil. “How do you go about biting people? Ah, I mean, do you hypnotize them or overpower them or what?”

When she didn’t get an answer, she looked up.

Was Rusty blushing? Vampires couldn’t blush, could they? Her gaze slid down his body again. Were those jeans painted on?

His grin had faded and he was looking down at the floor. “To tell the truth, I haven’t bitten any humans.”

Amber wrenched her gaze from his crotch to his face. “You’ve never bitten anybody? What kind of vampire are you, anyway?”

He looked up and chuckled. “Not a very good one, according to you.” Amber bit back the words that were about to erupt from her mouth. Insulting him wouldn’t get her anywhere. She swallowed then, in a softer voice, asked, “How long have you been a vampire?”

“About a month and a half.”

“A month and a half? That’s all?”

He nodded and smiled sheepishly.

“Didn’t your sire explain anything to you?” Amber failed to keep the surprise from her voice.

He frowned. “Don’t think my dad really knows anything about being a vampire.” She shook her head. “Not your father, your sire. The vampire who turned you.” Disgust and anger appeared on his face. “That son of a bitch? If I could get my hands on him, I’d rip his guts out.”

Amber took a step back. All of a sudden, Rusty didn’t look so—tame. Green heat flared in his eyes.

His voice was low and tight. And he was blocking the only way out of the room.

She took another step back and her butt bumped the table. “What happened?” Rusty began to pace. “I was out for a late walk—I always liked walking at night—when somebody jumped me. I got in a few good licks but then I felt him bite my neck. Hurt like hell but I figured if he was gonna fight dirty, I would too. So I bit his arm until I drew blood. That’s when everything got fuzzy. I could hear this voice in my head telling me to let go, but I didn’t. As long as he was gonna hold onto my neck, I was gonna keep my teeth buried in his arm.”

“Did you swallow his blood?”

He nodded. “Damn stuff gushed into my mouth. It was swallow it or let go. And I sure as hell wasn’t letting go before he did.”

Blinking, Amber nodded. Poor guy.

“When he finally let go of my neck, I let go of his arm. I was really feeling woozy by then but managed to plant my fist in his groin. Fucker screamed and doubled over,” Rusty continued in a satisfied voice, “but I was so weak, I passed out. Woke up under a hemlock tree the next night sick as a dog with a craving for blood. Found a rabbit and drained the blood from its body. Felt better after that and went home.”

“That’s it?”

He stopped pacing and shrugged. “More or less. Once I discovered going out in the sun was painful and regular food didn’t satisfy me, I knew something was wrong. My grandmother caught me sucking blood out of a cow and pretty much explained things to me.” Amber sank onto her chair. “She did?”

His grin was amused. “Yeah, well sort of. After I explained what had happened, she told me I had become a child of Satan who would be damned for all eternity. She promised to get a prayer circle started and finished with ‘Get out of my house, blood-sucker.’ That’s when I figured out what had happened. I was a vampire. Who’d a thought it could happen?” Fingers curled around the back of her chair, Amber watched Rusty as he wandered around the room, examining small items she’d set here and there. No wonder he didn’t know what he was doing. The vampire who’d bit him had never meant to turn him. Rusty had more or less sired himself.

She glanced at his face.

He didn’t seem to be angry any more.

“Ummm. Don’t you want to be a real vampire?”

He looked up, smiled and shrugged. “I guess. What should I do?” Amber smiled. Oh yeah. Things were definitely starting to look up. “I guess the first thing you should learn how to do is bite people.”

His green eyes began to sparkle. “Do you think you could help me learn how?” Amber grabbed her chair more tightly to keep from shivering with excitement. Yes! Perfect! She’d mold him into the perfect vampire. Her book would shoot right to the top of the
New York Times
’ best seller list.

“Of course, I’ll help you. What are friends for?”

Rusty smiled and nodded. Before he was finished with Amber, they’d be much more than friends.

“Go change your clothes.”

That brought her up short. “Why?”

“I need blood. Figured now was as good a time as any to go people hunting. Thought you might like to change since that shirt has dirt on it but you don’t have to. I mean, I could bite you.”

“Me! No! I mean, I have to make sure you’re doing it right so I have to be able to watch, right?” He grinned wider. “So go change your clothes.”

Amber looked down. Brown streaks slashed horizontally across her yellow tee shirt. Those boxes she’d moved had been pretty dirty. “Sure. Hang on. I’ll only be a minute.” Rusty smiled as she hurried from the room then stepped toward her computer.

Midnight rose from where she was lying next to it and hissed at him.

“Stupid cat. I only want to see what she’s written.” He reached toward the keyboard.

Midnight’s paw shot out, claws extended.

Rusty jerked his hand to the side and knocked a silver vase off the table.

It rattled to the floor, bounced once, twice, and banged against the wall. The lid popped off as it started to roll the other way. Gray dust sprinkled the floor as the urn careened back against the table.

“Now look what you made me do, you stupid cat.”

Midnight hissed and jumped off the table. Of course, she misjudged her leap and landed under Rusty’s feet. He tripped. Trying to maintain his balance, he stepped on the neck of the urn, flattening it.

Yowling, Midnight scuttled from the room.

Cursing the cat, Rusty headed for the laundry room and the brush and dust pan he knew he’d find there. Returning, he quickly brushed up the mess. Then he grabbed the urn, planning on dumping everything back in.