“Come on,” I called from the farmer’s front door. “We have to get moving before he comes back!”
Collin’s muffled voice came floating up from the cellar. “I look ridiculous.”
“I look like Lucille Ball’s manly cousin,” I yelled back. “It can’t be that bad.”
I opened up the little mailbox labeled “McGregor” near the door. Despite the fact that it was the only cash I had on hand, I left my last remaining twenty-dollar bill inside, where Mr. McGregor was sure to find it. It eased my conscience a bit for helping ourselves to his food and clothes.
Collin emerged in an orange and blue Hawaiian shirt, his long swimmer’s legs sticking out of blue plaid Bermuda shorts. I ruthlessly pinched my lips together to keep my braying laugh from escaping. He looked like a pale, pissed-off tourist. “Do you have any idea what happened to my clothes while I was sleeping?”
Currently, his pants were at the bottom of the burn barrel near the garage. And the scarecrow had received a brand-new hand-tailored shirt. “I couldn’t find them when I woke up,” I said, my eyes as wide and innocent as a baby seal’s. “Maybe a barn cat took them?”
“A barn cat?” he repeated, raising his eyebrow. “A barn cat that managed to get through the barred cellar door, take my clothes—my clothes only, mind you—and then escape unnoticed while we slept?”
“A very strong, very selective barn cat,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “We’re just lucky I found these clothes in the Goodwill box.”
“Hmph.” He sniffed. “A vindictive little kitten who is still angry about an obliterated car, more like.”
I grabbed his hand and led him down the gravel drive toward the highway. “Don’t be silly. What sort of kitten has a car?”
The walk into town was long and arduous, but the sky was clear and the moon full. Collin told me stories about his marches with the king’s army, trekking through what the British soldiers saw as the ends of the earth. We made good time, with Collin carrying me on his back for the last two miles. He was worried about me being too tired and insisted that it was payment for drinking my blood the night before without express permission.>I’d finally found something I truly enjoyed, and I was going to be fired before I really got started. At least at the other jobs, I’d had a few months before my spectacular failures.
Warm tears dripped down my cheeks. I held my breath, willing the oxygen to slip quietly in and out of my nose so Collin wouldn’t hear me sniffle. As angry as I was, I knew that he couldn’t grasp what he’d done in the name of helping me. He was sincere in his apology, and he felt bad—as much as he was capable of feeling guilty. I didn’t want to make him feel worse.
I pressed my hands into my eyes, my shoulders shaking with the effort to stay quiet. Two cool hands slid around my wrists, pulling them away from my face. Collin wrapped his arm around me, pulling me to his chest. I pressed my face into the curve of his neck, feeling my tears form a seal between my skin and his. He rubbed his hands over my back, fingertips dancing along my spine as I cried it out. Soft shushing noises were the only sound in the dark little room.
In the dark, I traced my fingers over the proud line of his nose, his eyelids, his cheekbones. He bent to kiss me, cool lips sliding against my warmth. He tasted clean, of mint and spice. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I was falling through the black space of the room, and Collin was the only thing holding me to reality.
This was a mistake, a huge mistake. I was using sex with someone else to get back at Jason or get over him or just get him out of my system. I doubted that Collin would mind being used. He might be fond of me in the moment, but I wasn’t a blip on his screen. He would leave his indestructible silver case in the Hollow and go home—most likely on a train—and forget all about me. I would be left with nothing again.
But when he shifted my hips so that my thighs rested on either side of his, I just couldn’t bring myself to care. He unbuttoned my shirt, pushing it back from my shoulders, and whispered kisses down the length of my collarbone. I rose to my knees, wrapping my arms around his neck as I ground down on the growing bulge in his lap.
He nibbled down to the swell of my breasts, tracing the top of each mound with his canines while I unbuttoned his shirt. He pushed me back on the improvised mattress and crouched over me, his eyes shining unnaturally even in the low light. The key hanging from his neck swayed against my chest with a solid plink. He seemed to be considering me, as if I was a particularly delectable dessert and he couldn’t decide where to dive in first. He dragged his tongue along my bare ankle, up my shin to my kneecap. When he reached my Smurf panties, he pressed his open mouth to the damp cotton.
He moved up, taking one taut nipple into his mouth, smiling against my flesh. I tossed my head back, arching into him as I threaded my fingers through his hair. He settled between my thighs, dragging his lips across my throat, and his hand slipped under my waistband. He slid two fingers inside me, plunging in, twisting up to nudge at that mysterious, pleasurable spot.
My Smurf panties joined the pile of clothes on the floor. I cried out and bucked my hips as he plunged again. His hips surged forward and spread my thighs farther apart. I wrapped my free leg over his hip as he entered me in one swift stroke. I yelped at the pleasant stretching sensation. The noise seemed to bounce off the rough wooden ceiling and echo throughout the house.
“Shh.” He chuckled, pointing over our heads. I bit down on his shoulder, and he nuzzled his face against my neck.
Collin kissed me as he moved again, thrusting gently at first, then building, as I angled my hips in time with his. He tipped his forehead to mine and slid home again. I gasped. Lifting my ass off the bed, he drove into me. His fangs slid out as he threw his head back and moaned. My breasts bounced with every heave of his body over mine. His hand slipped over my collarbone, up my throat, and over my lips. I pulled his fingers into my mouth, sucking the tips as he moved in and out, up and down.
He pulled me up, into his lap, grinding our hips together as he guided me over him. He ran the tip of his nose down the length of my cheek, his lips skimming after. Light pressure pinched at my jawline, and fingers slipped around the nape of my neck, securing my head in place as he tilted it back. His tongue worked teasing little circles along my skin.
His lips closed over my jugular, and there was the barest hint of pressure … and then … bliss. He drew against the wound, the blood seeming to flow up directly from between my thighs, through my chest, and into his mouth.
I shuddered and stilled, unable to process all of the sensations needling at my brain. He rocked his hips, sending his rigid length against my warmth. My breath caught, and I snagged my fingers through his hair, pressing his face against my neck.
Over his shoulder, I could see the faintest outline of light around the edges of the cellar door. Collin’s movements were more languid, gentle, as the rhythm continued—draw, rock, draw, rock—until I was riding him slow and firm as he licked the twin puncture wounds at my throat. I felt the first flutters of orgasm and cried out with the force of it. Collin pulled me to him with bone-crushing force as he followed me, crashing back against the rough burlap bags.
Collin rearranged us carefully, settling me against his chest, kissed me one last time on the forehead, and promptly passed out.
PWNED IN THE PAWN SHOP
10
I woke up with a vampire snuggled around my waist.
That was a new entry in the “Bizarre Miranda Experiences” annals.