warm and smooth to the touch—not erotic or arousing.
“You look bored, Miss Stackhouse,” Alfred said. “You’re supposed to look like you want to jump his bones. Maria-Star, make her look more . . . more.” Maria darted over to push the little puff sleeves farther down my arms. She got a little too enthusiastic, and I was glad the bodice was tight.
The fact of the matter was, Claude could look beautiful and bare all day long, and I still wouldn’t want him. He was grumpy and he had bad manners. Even if he’d been hetero, he wouldn’t have been my cup of tea—after I’d had ten minutes’ conversation with him.
Like Claude earlier, I’d have to resort to fantasy.
I thought of Bill the vampire, my first love in every way. But instead of lust, I felt anger. Bill was dating another woman, had been for a few weeks.
Okay, what about Eric, Bill’s boss, the former Viking? Eric the vampire had shared my house and my bed for a few days in January. Nope, that way lay danger. Eric knew a secret I wanted to keep hidden for the rest of my days; though, since he’d had amnesia when he’d stayed at my place, he wasn’t aware it was in his memory somewhere.
A few other faces popped into my mind—my boss, Sam Merlotte, the owner of Merlotte’s Bar. No, don’t go there, thinking about your boss naked is bad. Okay, Alcide Herveaux? Nope, that was a no-go, especially since I was in the company of his current girlfriend. . . . Okay, I was clean out of fantasy material and would have to fall back on one of my old fictional favorites.
But movie stars seemed bland after the supernatural world I’d inhabited since Bill came into Merlotte’s. The last remotely erotic experience I’d had, oddly enough, had involved my bleeding leg getting licked. That had been . . . unsettling. But even under the circumstances, it had made things deep inside me twitch. I remembered how Quinn’s bald head had moved while he cleaned my scrape in a very personal way, the firm grip his big warm fingers had had on my leg. . . .
“That’ll do,” Alfred said, and began snapping away.
Claude put his hand on my bare thigh when he could feel my muscles begin to tremble from the effort of holding the position. Once again, a man had a hold of my leg. Claude gripped my thigh enough to give it some support. That helped considerably, but it wasn’t a bit erotic.
“Now some bed shots,” Al said, just when I’d decided I couldn’t stand it any more.
“No,” Claude and I said in chorus.
“But that’s part of the package,” Al said. “You don’t need to undress, you know. I don’t do that kind of picture. My wife would kill me. You just lie down on the bed like you are. Claude hikes up on one elbow and looks down at you, Miss Stackhouse.”
“No,” I said firmly. “Take some pictures of him standing by himself in the water. That would be better.” There was a fake pond over in the corner, and shots of Claude, apparently naked, dripping water over his bare chest, would be extremely appealing (to any woman who hadn’t actually met him).
“How does that grab you, Claude?” Al asked.
Claude’s narcissism chimed in. “I think that would be great, Al,” he said, trying not to sound too excited.
I started for the changing room, eager to shed the costume and get back into my regular jeans. I glanced around for a clock. I was due at work at five-thirty, and I had to drive back to Bon Temps and grab my work uniform before I went to Merlotte’s.
Claude called, “Thanks, Sookie.”
“Sure, Claude. Good luck with the modeling contracts.” But he was already admiring himself in a mirror.
Maria-Star saw me out. “Goodbye, Sookie. It was good to see you again.”
“You, too,” I lied. Even through the reddish twisted passages of a Were mind, I could see that Maria-Star couldn’t understand why I would pass up Alcide. After all, the Were was handsome in a rugged way, an entertaining companion, and a hot-blooded male of the heterosexual persuasion. Also, he now owned his own surveying company and was a wealthy man in his own right.
The answer popped into my head and I spoke before I thought. “Is anyone still looking for Debbie Pelt?” I asked, much the same way you poke a sore tooth. Debbie had been Alcide’s longtime on-again, off-again lover.