me. He tasted as good as he smells, so the kiss was nice and somewhere in the middle of it I realized how long it had been since Erik and I had had a good hot make-out session. I mean, I'm no ho like Aphrodite, but I'm not a nun either. And I wasn't lying when I told Erik I liked him to touch me. I slid my arms up around his broad shoulders, leaning into him even more. We fit together nice. He's really tall, but I like that. He makes me feel little and girly and protected, and I like that, too. I let my fingers play with the back of his neck where his dark hair brushes down thick and a little curly. My fingernails teased the soft skin there, and I felt him shiver and heard the little moan in the back of his throat.
"You feel so good," he whispered against my lips.
"So do you," I whispered back. Pressing myself against him I deepened the kiss. And then on impulse (ho-ish impulse at that) I took his hand from the small of my back and moved it up so that it was cupping the side of my breast. He moaned again and his kiss got harder and hotter. He slid his hand down and under my sweater, and then back up so that he had my breast in his hand, bare except for my lacy black bra. Okay, I'll just admit it. I liked him touching my boob. It felt good. It especially felt good that I was proving to Erik that I hadn't rejected him. I moved so that he could get a better feel and somehow that little, innocent (well, semi-innocent) movement caused our mouths to slip and my front tooth nicked his bottom lip.
The taste of his blood hit me hard and I gasped against his mouth. It was rich and warm and indescribably salty sweet. I know it sounds gross, but I couldn't help my instant response to it. I cupped Erik's face in my hands and pulled his lip down to my mouth. I licked it lightly, which made the blood flow faster.
"Yes, go ahead. Drink," Erik said, his voice rough and his breathing coming quicker and quicker. That was all the encouragement I needed. I sucked his lip into my mouth, tasting the wonderful magic of his blood. It wasn't like Heath's blood. It didn't give me a pleasure so intense that it was almost painful, almost out of control. Erik's blood wasn't the burst of white hot passion Heath's was. Erik's blood was like a small campfire, something warm and steady and strong. It filled my body with a flame that heated a liquid pleasure all the way down to my toes, and it made me want more-more of Erik and more of his blood.
"Uh-hum!"
The sound of a throat being conspicuously (and loudly) cleared had Erik and me jumping away from each other like we'd been electrocuted. I watched Erik's eyes widen as he looked up and behind me, and then saw his smile, which made him totally look like a little boy caught with his hand in a cookie jar (apparently my cookie jar).
"Sorry, Professor Blake. We thought we were alone."
Chapter Six
Oh. My. God. I wanted to die. I wanted to die and turn to dust and have the breeze blow me anywhere just as long as it was away. Instead I turned around. Sure enough, Loren Blake, Vampyre Poet Laureate and the Best-Looking Male in the Known Universe, was standing there with a smile on his classically handsome face.
"Oh, uh, hi," I stuttered, and because that didn't sound stupid enough I blurted, "You're in Europe."
"I was. Just got back this evening."
"So how was Europe?" Calm and collected, Erik draped an arm nonchalantly around my shoulders. Loren's smile got wider and he looked from Erik to me. "Not as friendly as it is here." Erik, who seemed to be having fun, laughed softly. "Well, it's not where you go, it's who you know." Loren lifted one perfect brow. "Obviously."
"It's Zoey's birthday. We were just doing the birthday kiss thing," Erik said. "You know Z and I are going out."
I looked from Erik to Loren. Testosterone was practically visible in the air between them. Jeesh, they were acting totally guy-like. Especially Erik. I swear I wouldn't have been surprised if he knocked me over the head and started dragging me around by my hair. Which was not an attractive