Kathy Love: Fangs But No Fangs

Christian nodded, still not certain what had actually happened here. "Right. Well… " What did humans say in bizarre circumstances like this? "Good night, then."

He had turned to head back to the normal security of his trailer when her hand caught his. He startled at the contact, her fingers small and very warm curled around his.

"Oh my God, you're hurt."

He frowned. Her touch had surprised him, but it didn't hurt. Then he noticed she was staring at his arm. He glanced down and saw a large patch of blood had soaked through the sleeve of his shirt.

"Oh. That." He shrugged. "It's nothing."

He started to leave again, but she didn't release his fingers. Instead she tugged him in the opposite direction.

"Come inside and let me look at it."

Refusal was right there on his lips. Then he looked at her wide smile, and for some unknown reason, like why he came to her aid in the first place, he allowed her to lead him into her trailer.

The layout of the trailer mimicked his own. Except his was actually homier, if that was possible. She led him into the kitchen to the sink.

"Stay right here," she ordered, then disappeared down the hallway. Christian glanced around the room. No wonder she was roaming around the countryside at night. She didn't exactly have a welcoming home to relax in. The kitchen was devoid of all furniture and the living room only had three metal folding chairs arranged around a beaten-up steamer trunk.

And Vance had come to this woman looking for money? That was very optimistic of him.

"Okay," she said as she returned with a rather threadbare but clean-looking towel. "Let's take a look at this cut."

He watched as she set the towel on the counter and reached for the buttons on the cuff of his sleeve. She tsked. "Too bad. This looks like an expensive shirt."

It was, but he didn't say anything. Instead he watched her slender, pale fingers work on the buttons. He frowned. Why did he find the simple action so fascinating?

"I don't know," she said, studying the large amount of blood already drying to the blond hair on his forearm. "Maybe we should go right to the doctor. It's bled a lot."

"No," he said, starting to pull his arm away, but she caught his hand, those slim fingers curling around his.

"Okay," she agreed, "but let me clean it for you. It's the least I can do after you helping me."

He didn't agree, but he didn't pull away. She took the towel and wet one corner with warm water. Carefully, she brushed the cloth over his arm in gentle sweeps.

"Does that hurt?"

He shook his head. No, it didn't hurt in the least. In fact, it was oddly pleasurable. The pressure of her warm fingers on his skin. Her nearness. Not until she looked up at him, a questioning look in her eyes, did he realize she hadn't seen his response.

"No, it doesn't hurt," he said, his voice low.

She stared at him for a moment, then returned to her ministrations. This time, Christian didn't watch what she was doing. He studied her. In the brief glimpses he'd seen of her before, he'd never taken note of her looks. But now, close up, he saw she was a very attractive mortal with dark red hair, almost wine-colored, like a strong merlot. Her features were fragile and pale like fine bone china, with high cheekbones, a straight nose, and the most lush mouth he'd ever seen, deep pink, plump and wide. He wondered how lips like that would feel under his.

He jerked back, disturbed by the direction of his thoughts. He hadn't even considered kissing a mortal in nearly two hundred years.

She immediately stopped cleaning his arm and stared up at him with wide eyes, brown flecked with gold. "Did I hurt you?"

He shook his head, his eyes again dropping to her full lips. He breathed in deeply. "No."

She hadn't hurt him, but something about this woman was addling his brain. What the hell was he thinking finding her attractive? He didn't find mortals attractive. Ever.

She regarded him closely, and he wondered for a moment if he was vamping out in some way. Had his irises widened, making his eyes totally black? Or had his skin pulled taut over his bones? Was a fang hanging out of the corner of his mouth?

Not that she looked frightened. She actually looked… concerned?

He was, too. His reactions were not normal.

She dabbed at his arm again, her touch even gentler. Little raspy caresses of the towel, which felt… nice. Yes, he was definitely acting, or rather reacting, strangely.

He took in another deep breath to steady himself. A rich, spicy scent like warm honey and cinnamon filled his nostrils. Her scent. His body reacted, his muscles tensing, his fingers twitching. And his cock hardened, both tense and twitching in his pants. What the hell?

"Are you sure this doesn't hurt?" she asked again.

He started to shake his head, but then he remembered he actually had to speak, since she was looking at his arm rather than his face.

"No."

"I'm almost done."

Thank God. He breathed in again, and her luscious scent assailed him, stronger and more tempting than before.

Were his vampy powers coming back? He'd truly believed he had them under control, practically ineffectual. But his acute sense of smell was working fine. Although the scent he smelled wasn't the rusty, salty scent of blood. The heat and spices were just her.

But what caught him more off guard than her scent was his reaction to it. He was aroused. And he'd never been aroused by a mortal unless it was caused by the hunger.

He ran his tongue over his canines. They were normal. The rock-hard erection in his trousers was not. He always had simultaneous erections. Fangs, cock. Fangs, cock. That was just how it worked. So what the hell was going on?

"There," she said, shifting away from him. "All clean."

He immediately stepped back, hoping distance would calm him. This was just too strange.

Jolee frowned. Her neighbor was a strange guy. Not that she was surprised. She'd noticed him before. After all, it was pretty darn hard to ignore a hunky model type with designer clothes and a car that cost ten times her yearly income, and that was if she was lucky, living across from her in a rundown trailer park. There was definitely a story there. She'd even invented one or two of her own.

But until tonight, she'd never considered talking to him for two very good reasons. One, he had to be trouble. Again, guys like this one did not live in Shady Fork Mobile Estates, unless they were in deep doo-doo. And number two, she was too smart and too busy to get involved with trouble. Even on a non-romantic basis. She'd had enough of that in her life, thank you very much.

But tonight had really added a new twist to her two-point plan. He'd rescued her. She could have protected herself from Vance if she'd had to. Although it had been really nice not to have to. To have someone stick up for her.

She simply hadn't expected help. She knew full well that people often ignored others in trouble. Like she'd planned to ignore her neighbor. But he hadn't ignored her.

Of course, she had been screaming on her front lawn at three in the morning. But then, no one else had come to her aid. And this guy had even gotten hurt protecting her. If he wasn't already sexy as hell that would have definitely added to his appeal. It was rather nice to have a hero around.

"I don't think you are mortally wounded," she said. When his brows drew together in confusion, she pointed to his arm. "Your arm. It bled a lot, but the cut was actually quite small."

"Oh." He glanced down at his bloodstained sleeve as if just remembering the wound. "Yeah, it's fine."

He nodded as if he didn't have any idea what else to say, which apparently he didn't. He started toward the door.