by Jessica Sims
“Wait right there,” I murmured, and gave him another light kiss on the mouth. He didn’t want to let me go, but I slid out of his grip, went to the door, and moved a chair in front of it. I checked all the blinds to make sure they were drawn, and scanned the room for cameras. Nothing.
Perfect. He was all mine.
A month ago, I might have turned my nose up at having sex in a hospital bed, with no privacy except that of an unlocked door barely blocked with a chair, the windows only covered by blinds. But a month ago, I hadn’t been to Venice.
A month ago, I hadn’t pulled the stake out of a vampire’s heart and woken him from a six-hundred-year slumber.
A month ago, I hadn’t been attacked in the streets, visited night graveyards, killed vampires, and chugged more garlic than any human possibly wanted to.
A month ago, I hadn’t fallen in love.
Hours ago, I thought I’d lost the man I loved. The grief had been so horrific, so wrenching, that I still felt hollow inside. And I vowed that nothing was going to come between us and our happiness ever again.
And if I wanted to have sex with the man in his hospital room, by golly, I would.
As I approached the bed, I slipped my hospital gown off. I wore nothing underneath, and I strolled toward him, nude and proud. When I reached him, my hand went back under the blankets and found him again.
Hard as a rock. I sighed with pleasure.
“Lindsey,” he groaned. An entire stream of words followed that, and I had no clue what he was saying. His good arm went around my shoulders, and he tugged me closer to him, until my breasts pressed against his hospital gown.
I sat up and tugged at the fabric. “Let’s get this stupid thing off you, hmm?”
Despite our communication barrier, he understood exactly what I was asking. Between his good hand and both of mine, we managed to pull it off him. I tossed it to the side and gave a sigh of pleasure as I slipped back under the covers and laid down against his warm skin. Rand as a vampire was sexy, but Rand as a flesh-and-warm-blooded man? Utterly divine. I couldn’t keep my hands off him. I trailed my fingers down his chest, feeling the hints of old scars. I pressed my lips to his shoulder, then kissed his collarbone, his neck, his jaw. All the while, my hand on his stomach slid lower and lower, until it returned to the curls at his groin, and then, his cock.
I gasped to feel something wet and pulled the sheets back. Pre-cum dotted the head of his cock, and my eyes went wide with surprise. That was new.
Rand dragged my fingers to his cock, trailed them over the pre-cum. “Human,” he told me in a thick voice.
Oh God, was he ever. “Human,” I agreed. “My human.” I lifted my hand and tasted him from my fingers. He was salty, musky. Delicious. “Rand.”
He reached for me, then winced, his bad arm falling back to his side.
I put a hand to his chest. “Let me,” I told him. “I’ll take care of our pleasure. You just sit back and relax.”
“Lindsey,” he murmured again, and I pulled the blankets back over his hips . . . and went under them.
My hand went to his cock again, curling around the base. My mouth followed, and I licked up the pre-cum dotting the crown of his cock, sighing with pleasure as his taste touched my tongue. The more I licked, the more appeared. I took the head of him into my mouth and sucked gently, then lapped him like I would a treat.
His hips jerked, and I felt his good hand twine in my hair. “Lindsey,” he murmured again, followed by another stream of soft syllables. I could imagine what he was saying. More, more, more. As I sucked, I began to take him deeper, pumping him with my mouth.
Rand began to rise to meet my mouth, his hand holding my hair in place until he was fucking my face, his movements rapid. I kept pace with him as best I could, excited that I could turn him on so much with just my mouth. I felt him shudder, expecting him to come.
Instead, he pulled his hand from my hair and brushed his fingers over my shoulder, trying to get my attention. “Lindsey.”
I popped my head up from the sheets. “Hm?”
He tugged me toward him and dragged his mouth over mine, his kiss hungry and devouring. “Mmm,” I sighed, and put my hands on his neck, leaning against his bare chest and pressing my breasts against him. I slid up and down against him, letting my nipples rub against his skin, growing more and more aroused as his mouth possessed mine.
Rand’s hand went between my legs, pressing to my sex. I heard his soft exhale as he found me wet for him, and I rocked against his hand, encouraging his touches. I loved his touch. Adored it. Wanted it everywhere. “Touch me all you want,” I told him, breathless. “I’m all yours.”
As if he could understand my soft commands, his fingers pressed deeper, seeking my clit. I moaned as he found it and began to rub back and forth, teasing the sensitive hood. My mouth became frantic on his, my hips moving on his hand as he continued to finger me, making me mad with desire. I ached for him. “I want you inside me,” I told him.
“Lindsey?” he asked, a question on his breath.
I thought about condoms, then decided to skip it. If we made a baby this night, I’d take it and be glad. I wanted anything and everything that came my way, from now until forever. So, kissing my love, I straddled his hips and settled over him. And as I kissed him, I reached between us and guided his length to my entrance.
He pulled back a little, gazing into my eyes. He said something, then tapped my breast, a grin lighting his beautiful face.
And I laughed because I knew what that meant. Weasel balls. Was I going to wear them for birth control? I shook my head and kissed him again, then guided his hand to my stomach to let him know that we were going to take things as they came . . . literally.
Rand nodded, his smile widening.
Guiding him deep, I pushed down on his cock and moaned as he palmed my breast, then teased the nipple. I was so wet that it didn’t take much to seat myself entirely on his length. Then, I put my hands on his shoulders and began to ride him, my hips moving in gentle rolling motions.
He reached down and pressed his fingertips to my sex, then began to rub my clit as I rode him, which made me crazy. Gasping, I clung to him and began to ride him harder and faster. His hips began to jerk under mine, until we were shaking the hospital bed with the force of our exertions.
I came, crying out his name, and as I did, he ground me against him, slamming me down on him until he came moments later. I felt the heat of his spend inside me and reveled in the difference.
My Rand. No longer a vampire. Still all mine.
Leaning in, I kissed his face over and over again. I wanted to collapse on top of him and go to sleep, but, first, hospital gowns. With a small smile, I asked, “Is it okay if I stay here tonight?”
He only tilted his head at me, then rattled off another stream of words I didn’t understand.
I yawned. “I’m going to take that as a yes, babe.” I leaned in and gave him a peck on the mouth, then slid off the side of the hospital bed.
He grabbed my hand as I did and shook his head, a silent entreaty for me to stay.
“I’m not leaving,” I told him, smiling. I pointed at the discarded hospital gown a short distance away. He let go of my hand reluctantly and was pleased when I redressed and joined him in bed again. Rand pulled the covers over me and tucked me against his side, and I snuggled against him to catch a few hours of sleep before the hospital orderlies could chase me away.
I was never leaving Rand’s side again.
THE NEXT MORNING
It turned out the hospital was keeping Rand isolated because they’d thought he had a mysterious illness that had caused memory loss. His language barrier was also stumping them, except for the fact that he’d managed to learn a few words overnight. They were baffled, because other than his now-gone fever and his hurt arm, there was nothing wrong with Rand.
He made it very clear, though: he wanted to go home with me.
Since he had the fake ID with the Venice address, t
here was no reason to suspect more than a freak medical occurrence. And since the hospital couldn’t come up with a good reason to keep him, they let him go, with a promise to send his bill in the mail. I was also declared healthy enough to check out, though they did ask me if I’d be interested in donating blood in a week or two so they could study my rare blood type.
I declined. I’d given out enough blood in the last month.
Gemma picked us up and our little party caught the next train back to Venice. To the place that was starting to feel like home, oddly enough. Strange how Venice had seemed so odd to me a month ago, and now all the little canals gave me a happy feeling of relief.
When we got to the old apartment, it was a joy to not have to invite Rand in. Instead, he grabbed me and swung me under his good arm, then carried me over the threshold like a sack of potatoes. I squealed with laughter the entire time.
“You guys are fucking weird,” Gemma said, but she grinned. “Try to control yourselves for a bit, will you?”
“No promises,” I said, kissing Rand.
“No promises,” he echoed, though I wasn’t entirely sure he understood what he was saying. He just knew it made me smile.
Gemma rolled her eyes.
Rand gave me a smacking kiss and set me down a few feet inside the apartment. “Lindsey home,” he said, showing off his new English.
“That’s right,” I said with a pat to his big, brawny chest. I’d been trying to teach Rand a few words so he could communicate, because I knew he was frustrated. Right now his vocabulary was worse than a caveman’s, but it was a start, and he was a fast learner. “Apartment in Venice,” I told him.
“Lindsey apartment in Venice,” he agreed, moving inside. His hand found mine and we twined our fingers. I loved the feel of his warm touch and let him take the lead.
In the few days Gemma had been in the apartment while I’d been traveling in Eastern Europe with Rand, she’d done a lot of cleaning. Gone was the utter carnage of boxes. The floors were swept clean of debris, and most of the furniture was gone. Two small, lonely boxes waited by the door to be shipped back home to Nebraska. To see the place so empty made me ache a little. Before, this apartment had been crammed full of life and memories. Now it was just barren, waiting to be filled again. I gave Rand’s hand a little squeeze, thinking of how lucky we’d been to come out of this unscathed. I mean, my credit cards were maxed, but what was a little debt when I was holding the hand of the man I loved?
“There’s a few things left here and there,” Gemma said, bustling past us into the near-empty apartment. “I guess the good thing was that those jerks came in and destroyed everything, because after that, it made cleanup a lot easier. I paid the lady downstairs, and she came and helped me toss most everything into the trash.”
“You did great, Gemma,” I told her. “Really great.”
She gave me a proud look over her shoulder and headed up the narrow stairs. “I’m going to check on a few things up here. Why don’t you two peek into the kitchen and see what you can find for the bottomless pit there?”
I chuckled. “Will do.”
As if on cue, Rand’s stomach rumbled. He rubbed it ruefully and looked over at me. “Lindsey, eat yes?”
“Absolutely,” I told him, and led him into the tiny kitchen. Ever since becoming human again, Rand’s appetite was voracious. Gemma and I liked to joke that he was stockpiling to make up for all the years in which he’d only drank blood, because the man could definitely put away a plate, or two, or three. Not that I minded. Every little signal that he was human now just gave me even more pleasure. “I’m pretty sure we have some bacon in the fridge that probably hasn’t gone bad yet. Maybe some eggs.”
The kitchen itself was mostly clean, too, with only a chipped plate and cup in the sink. The cabinets were bare, so I cleaned the dishes off and dried them with a scrap of a towel so Rand would have something to eat off of. I was pleased to see that the silverware was intact. I guess there was only so much destruction rampaging vampires could do. I made a mental note to pack it up and ship it home to sell. I found a skillet and set it on the stove as Rand hopped up on a counter to sit.
“Cross your fingers that there’s something good in here, babe,” I told him as I opened the fridge to get the food. I peeked in to see the contents—
And stopped.
Blinked.
And screamed, “GEMMA!”
“Lindsey?” Rand asked.
“It’s okay,” I told him, trembling. “I think.” And then I began to laugh hysterically.
Gemma came thundering down the stairs a minute later, her eyes wide. “What, what is it?”
I showed her the jars of pasta I’d pulled out of the fridge. They weren’t pasta jars at all but delicately made Chinese ginger jars of the palest white. If I rubbed my fingers on the porcelain, I could feel the designs etched into them that would only be visible with the right lighting.
The gorgeous anhua jars that I thought were completely lost?
Two of them were currently holding what looked like fettuccine. “How is this possible?” I asked her, holding the jar with shaking hands. “How?”
Gemma blanched and bit her fingernail, looking sheepish. “So, like, you were gone, right? And I ordered pasta from that place we like, and they sent a double. And I thought it’d be silly to throw it all away when we had a perfectly good fridge, but I couldn’t find a good container with a lid. And then I remembered the jars in the basement and thought, well, she’ll never know, right? So I might have snagged two of them.” She held her hands up and moved forward. “But don’t worry! I kept those little pieces of paper that were stuck inside them.”
“Little pieces of paper?” I asked blankly, still in shock. I’d thought all of the priceless porcelain down in the secret room had been completely and utterly destroyed. Smashed to bits. Gone forever.
“The bill of lading or whatever it was that got you so excited,” she said, moving past me to open the fridge. She plucked something from the shelf, and sure enough, there were the original receipts with the dates. The crucial papers that proved the jars had provenance.
I felt faint. “Fettuccine, Gemma? Really?”
She looked abashed. “I really thought you’d never know. And then the vampires showed up, and well . . .” She shrugged. “I guess they didn’t look in the fridge.”
“I’m not mad,” I told her, gently setting the jar down on the counter. Oh God, she’d kept the receipts and the lids and everything. Once the jar was safe on the counter, I turned to Gemma and hugged her. “You are the bestest friend ever and I love you.”
She giggled and hugged me back. “I finally did something right, huh?”
“You are amazing,” I told her, awed. “I’d be lost without you, and I mean it. Those jars are going to pay for everything this trip has cost us, and more.”
She brightened. “So we’re not broke?”
“Not by a long shot!”
“Good?” Rand said, interrupting our celebration.
I turned to him, beaming. “Very, very good!”
Epilogue
FIVE MONTHS LATER
You’re sure it’s here?” I asked Rand, consulting the road map I’d bought at the last gas station.
“Yes, here,” Rand said, getting out of the passenger side of the car. Even five months after living in the “modern” world, there were things about cars that still confounded my lover. Coming to England and finding out that the steering wheel was on the wrong side of the car? He’d nearly lost his mind. “It is not right,” he’d told me, over and over again, all while I’d laughed and laughed.
Nearby people had looked at me like I was crazy, but I was getting used to that.
I pocketed the keys and got out of the parked car, following Rand up the grassy hill.
Automatically he waited, turning and offering his hand to me.
I took it with a smile and squeezed his hand. “Excited?”
“Not sure,” he told me. “Fe
els . . . strange. This place . . . I have not come in long, long time.”
I knew that feeling. “We can leave if you want to.”
“No, I want . . .” He struggled to find the right word. “Here.”
“Okay, babe,” I told him, and put a hand to my belly, where I carried our child. I’d gotten pregnant that night at the hospital. I’d figured it out a month or two later when we’d gotten settled back in Nebraska and I’d gotten sick every morning and had had massive cravings for peanut butter. Turned out that one time without a condom was enough after all.
We’d gotten married right away, and Rand had spent the next few months helping me expand the business (now called Gemma and Lindsey’s Favorite Finds). We’d sold the anhua jars at Sotheby’s for an amount that still made my head spin. Gemma and I had split the money from the precious jars into thirds—one-third for her, one-third for me, and one-third for the business. With my money, I’d bought a condo for myself and Rand, and we’d started a fund for the baby.
I knew the fact that Rand wasn’t bringing money into our small family was bothering him. We’d been discussing things he could do for a living once he learned the language and became accustomed to modern society. He’d started taking jiujitsu and karate lessons at the local dojo and was utterly fascinated by all the combat forms. If nothing else, maybe he could learn enough to teach. I knew he enjoyed it.
Life was pretty perfect, overall. I was happier than I’d ever been. But I knew there was one thing in particular that still bugged Rand sometimes. So when my warlord had suggested we go look for his old stash in England, I’d agreed.
Why not?
It turned out that several place names had changed over time, as they were wont to do. So while we’d looked for a particular hill and what was left of a castle Rand remembered, he’d scoured guidebooks and pictures of scenery and Google Maps until he’d found the location that he’d sworn was the correct one. So we’d asked about it and gotten directions from locals. Half a day later, we’d found the place.
As we crested the hill, Rand was silent. I figured he was lost in memory, comparing this place to whatever it had been in his past. Not much of the settlement remained from six hundred years ago. A few rocky tumbles were all that was left to suggest the place had been something other than a sheep pasture. The place, according to the postcard, had suffered from a fire in 1450, and recurrences of plague and strife had emptied the village. The keep had never been rebuilt, the lands deeded to the king and then parceled away to random nobles over the years. Rand had wanted to claim it, but he’d backed down once I’d made him realize that no one was going to honor a six-hundred-year-old claim from someone who was the current age of about thirty. He’d understood, but he wasn’t happy.