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Authors: Kaye Draper

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BOOK: Survivor
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“You can take a shower,” he said as he toweled off
his hair.  It was a complete mess, and unbelievably attractive.  “Don’t worry
about me.”

“I’m not leaving you here to drip-dry,” I said in
exasperation.  “Do you want to put your clothes in the dryer or something…”  I
trailed off.  Of course, then he would have nothing to wear but a towel.  I
tried not to pant.

He raised an eyebrow as if he knew exactly what I
was thinking.  Maybe he did.  Not human, I reminded myself.  “Melody,” his
voice held a note of warning and I raised my chin defiantly.

Seeing it, he laughed.  He bent down and kissed my
forehead, surprising me.  “I won’t do anything to take advantage of you.  I
care for you too much.”

 I turned and wheeled away toward the bathroom,
peeved.  He thought I was too mentally incapacitated to do more than hold hands
or kiss.  Like a teenager.  Fine.  Let him drip-dry.  I shut the door with a
thud and went to turn on the shower.  I stripped off my clothes in a hurry, but
it still took forever because they were wet and clingy.  Levering myself out of
the chair, I transferred onto the long, wide bench in the shower.  The
contractor that did the renovations had gone a little overboard.  My shower is
easily big enough for two.  I shot a sharp look toward the door and the idiot
beyond it.  Not that it was ever going to happen.

I relaxed in the hot water, leaning my head back and
closing my eyes as I let it warm me.  It had been a confusing day.  I wondered
just what Peter was doing that upset the other vampires so much.  Apparently,
he was more a nuisance than some sort of serious threat.  They hadn’t killed
him, after all- at least not permanently.  I was roused from my musings by a
tentative tap on the door.

Peter’s voice filled the room.  It still sounded odd.
 It made my skin ripple.  “You left your clothes out here,” he said hesitantly.
 “Can I bring them in for you?”

 I sighed.  “Just get in here, will you?”  For
Christ’s sake, we were both adults.  I was not an eighteen-year-old girl
anymore.  And I was not suffering from some sort of mental disorder.

The door squeaked open and I leaned forward to peek
around the shower curtain.  He put my clothes on the vanity and turned to go.  He
was still wearing his wet clothes.  “Will you please just put your clothes in
the dryer?”  I said in an exasperated tone.  “You can wear a towel.  I won’t
look at you if it makes you feel better.”

He laughed.  “I
was
concerned about that.”  He
turned around.  “I need to leave soon anyway,” he said slowly.

I thought that maybe he needed to, you know, get a
bite to eat.  He had been acting a little odd since the whole being slammed
around and half-drowned thing.  His movements had this liquid quality to them,
and his voice was making my fingertips tingle.

I looked down at my legs and gave a tired sigh.  The
warm water had relaxed me and I really didn’t feel up to the effort it took to
wash up.  Everything was such a battle.  Sometimes I just got sick of
fighting.  Peter had moved closer.  When he spoke, his melodious voice was just
outside the curtain.  “Are you okay?  Is something wrong?”  He sounded worried.

“I’m fine,” I snapped.  Then I thought about it.  “Why
do you ask?”  It could just be that he was concerned about how much I’d been through. 
I didn’t think so.

He hesitated.  I could feel him out there.  I wanted
to beg him to come into the shower with me.  I blushed at the thought.  I
hadn’t had sex since I was a teenager.  My body was weak and covered in scars. 
My hormones didn’t seem to care about my lack of confidence.

“I can feel that you are… sad?”  He didn’t sound
sure.  “Frustrated maybe?  Hurt?”  He was the one who sounded frustrated.

“You know what I’m feeling?”  Vampire.

I saw his shadow shrug through the curtain.  “It’s
not one hundred percent, but sometimes, especially if it’s a strong emotion.”  He
sighed tiredly.  “Then again, sometimes it’s like listening to a radio with the
volume too soft.  You know there is music, but you just can’t make out the
words.

I laughed.  “I hate when that happens.”  I paused
for a minute, thinking about what I had just been feeling to make him worry.  “I
was just thinking how long it takes to get washed up.”  I bit my lip.  It was
embarrassing to admit, but it was easy to talk to him.  “I was wishing I was
normal.”  I clenched my fist as embarrassment started to slide into anger.  “I
was wishing I was normal so you would think of me as a woman, not a child, or a
disabled person.”

He was quiet for a minute.  I thought that maybe I’d
been too frank.  I picked up my loofa and squirted body wash on it, resigned. 
I was lathering it up when the distinctive sound of a zipper made me pause.  I
smiled.  “There are extra towels under the sink,” I said, happy over this small
victory.  “I have a couple of really big ones.  I don’t think my robe will fit
you.  The dryer won’t take too long.”

He pulled the shower curtain aside and stepped in.  Naked.
 I sucked in a surprised breath and stared.  And stared.  
Oh my God
.  He
was glorious- lean, and muscular and perfect.  He was also not disinterested. 
In a
big
way.  My face flamed and I stopped staring at the visible proof
that he did indeed think of me as a woman.  
My mistake
.

He gave me a lopsided smile and took the loofa.  Kneeling,
he started at my feet and worked his way up, lathering and caressing.  The
water beat down on him, turning his silky hair black, and streaming across his
smooth skin.  When he got to my hips, he gave me a look that went right to my
center.  “Can you stand for a while, if I help you?”

I swallowed.  “Why?”  My voice was a register deeper
than usual.  I cleared my throat and gripped the edge of the bench.  This was
really happening.

He raised an eyebrow at me.  “So I can finish what
I’ve started?”  He held up the loofa, but I didn’t think that was what he was
meant.

I gave him a look.  “That’s not what I’m talking
about, and you know it.”  He grinned, unrepentant.  “I know.”  He leaned
forward, kneeling between my knees.  Sliding a hand behind my neck, he pulled
me down to him.  His full lips met mine and I wrapped my arms around his neck,
pulling him closer.

He pulled back and looked up at me mischievously.  “I’ve
been trying so hard to keep the proper distance.  But don’t ever think that
means I don’t want you.”

I frowned at him.  The proper distance.  “This is a
brain injury thing again, isn’t it?”  He thought he was taking advantage of me.

 “No,” his voice was still odd and it was making me
tingle in places other than my fingertips.  “This is a respect thing.”

I thought about that for a minute.  “I think I can
stand up for a while,” I said gravely.  He laughed, his eyes flashing to liquid
silver.  I tried not to stare at the sharp teeth that had flashed when he
laughed.  He stood, effortlessly pulling me up with him.  He had vampire
strength and reflexes on his side, he wouldn’t let me fall.  For the first time
I thought of all the things I could do with this man, instead of the all things
I couldn’t do.

He turned me to face the wall, where I could hang on
to the grab bars.  Then he continued to lather my body with soap.  He dropped
the loofa, and his large, deliciously cool hands slicked over my curves.  He
caressed my breast with one hand, gently fondling, as the other snaked down
lower.  He stroked me gently and I arched back against him.  I could feel him
pressed against my backside, and I moaned softly, imagining him inside me.  He
swept my hair aside and nuzzled my neck, dropping kisses along my shoulder and
neck before pausing to nip playfully at my ear.  For a minute, I was sure he
was going to bite me, but he didn’t.  His lips on my skin were driving me
crazy, and every once in a while there was a light grazing of sharp teeth that
made me shiver.

When my legs grew tired, he slipped an arm around my
waist, supporting me as he continued his attentions.  “Oh God Peter,” I panted,
completely lost.

I forgot to be embarrassed; I needed him inside me-
now.  He turned off the water and scooped me up, pausing to kiss me deeply.  Snagging
a couple of the big bath towels, he carried me to the bedroom.  We toweled each
other off hurriedly, and I laughed in soft surprise as he managed to make even
that task a sensual experience, caressing my curves with the towel as if it
were his bare hands.  His gaze was intense, and the sight of his fangs was both
frightening and exciting.  He laid me on the bed and stretched out beside me,
pulling me against his hard body as he trailed kisses from my sensitive nipples
up across my chest and to my neck.

“Are you going to bite me?”  I asked breathlessly.  He
pulled back slightly to meet my eyes with a look that went straight to my core.

“No,” he said softly.  “I just want to make love to
you.  Nothing more.”  He pulled me close again, but I pulled back.  I looked at
him for a moment, taking in his silver eyes and purely
other
appearance.
 “You are um… thirsty?”  I asked hesitantly.

He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath.  His
eyes flashed open and he regarded me with a look that said more clearly than
words how much he needed blood.  His voice was low, with a sort of restrained
need, and my skin was buzzing.  “I will need to feed very soon,” he said
honestly.  “But I won’t take from you.”

I frowned at him.  He was still stroking my hips
suggestively, and he was rock hard against my thigh.  “Would it feel good?  If
you bit me, I mean?”

He smirked.  “It feels very good when you are
bitten.”  I bit my lip, raising my eyebrows in surprise.  Oh boy.  “I
meant
would
it feel good for
you
?”

 He pulled me close, grasping my butt in his big
hands and pressing me against him.  He chuckled lightly into my hair.  “Amazingly
so.”

I slid my hands over his muscular back, gaining
confidence.  “Then I want you to bite me.”

I could see the arguments forming in his head- the
million reasons why he wouldn’t do that to a disabled person.  Seeing my
mutinous look, the denials died before he could voice them.  Sighing, he
captured my lips again.  “Right now,” he said, pressing me back into the
pillows “I would do anything just to be inside you.”

I blushed furiously and closed my eyes.  His hand
found my center and he began stroking me again as he suckled on an aching
breast.  I moaned in pleasure, and returned the favor.  He shifted his weight,
nudging my thighs apart with his knee and I followed his lead, wanting him
desperately.  He hesitated and I opened my eyes.

 “Is this…” he swallowed hard, clearly struggling
for control.  “Have you done this before?”

I bit my lip and gave him an apologetic look.  “Only
once,” I said, embarrassed, “a long time ago.”  I’d had sex for the first time
when I was eighteen.  I wouldn’t compare it to this, in any way shape or form.

He kissed me tenderly.  “I’ll try to be gentle,” he
said, nuzzling my neck.  I arched my hips against him, urging him on and he
sheathed himself slowly.  I moaned as he stretched me tight.  Hearing the
pleasure in the sound, he began to move, pulling almost all the way out before
slowly burying himself in me again.  I met his thrusts with abandon, urging him
to lose his caution.  He hiked up my knee and slipped a hand under my hip,
deepening his thrusts, and I begged him for more.  I dug my fingers into his
muscular back, pressing myself closer, and he growled softly in response.

 He brushed aside the thick curtain of my hair,
trailing kisses along my throat.  “Melody,” he moaned against my skin, sending goose
bumps dancing over my body.  I tilted my head, bearing my throat in invitation.
 He pressed deep inside me as he sank his teeth into my neck.

I writhed and moaned as ribbons of pleasure pulsed
from my throat to my groin.  He drew at my neck and the waves of pleasure
increased, finally sending me over the edge.  He lifted his head and licked my
throat.  His lips met mine again and he rolled, pulling me on top.  I leaned
back, putting my weight on my knees and looked down at him.  His eyes were
liquid silver, and he radiated sex and power.  Vampire.  He ran his hands up
across my hips and up to my breasts, stroking and teasing.

I tried to move, but my lower body was too weak and
uncoordinated.  His hands returned to my hips, guiding my movements, and I felt
climax building in me again.  He rolled, pinning me beneath him.  His teeth
found my throat once more, and I cried out in pleasure, gripping him tight as
wave after wave of pleasure rolled over me.  He lost some of his restraint, thrusting
harder and faster, and I convulsed beneath him again.  He moaned and pressed deep
as he joined my release.

 It took a while before I was coherent again.  Peter
lay on his back, cradling me, with my head on his shoulder.  His big hand drew
lazy circles over my hip and lower back.  I tentatively traced the sleek,
muscular lines of him.  I couldn’t believe he was mine.

He dropped a soft kiss on the top of my head and I
looked up, meeting his soft smile with a hot blush.  I noticed his eyes were
returning to their normal deep green, though they still shimmered a bit.  I
reached up to touch my neck, wondering how bad the bites looked, but I could
barely feel them.  He angled himself to get a look at my neck.  “Our saliva
helps heal the wounds more quickly,” he said softly.  “In a few hours, no one
will notice.”

BOOK: Survivor
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