Part 11 (1/2)

She'd tried to save my daughter's life. That should stand for something. There was always a ”but.” I was too confused to think, especially with her blood on my tongue. With a frightening insight, I knew I was no longer in control of my desires. I looked down at her sleeping form. Her dark, coiled hair damp around her temples. Her sable colored skin held a sheen.

My Ilida is practical. She would want to bathe, dress, then get on with her life. I had a surprise for her.

I bounded off the couch, picked her up, carried her upstairs to my bedroom, and then I lowered her to the bed. Once she was covered with the comforter, I entered the bathroom to clean up.

Afterwards, I filled the octagonal tub with scalding hot water and dropped a large bar of white soap into the tub. A soft command from me woke her up fully.

Ilida sat up, pulled the sheet up to cover her chest. Her dark brown eyes were wide with embarra.s.sment and surprise. I was getting used to her face.

”What is it?” Her eyes rolled around my bedroom then down at her shoulders. ”I'm in your bed.”

”I'm running the shower water for you.”

She squirmed.

”Do you still think I'll send you on your way in a cab?”

Her tight curly hair was wild, her lips swollen. If I had a Polaroid...I could easily read her mind and I knew what I'd find. She's just as determined as I am to not attach.

She cleared her throat. ”I need to...”

”Bathe. I know. I'll help you up.”

”I-I don't need help.”

Before her eyes could find me, I was by her side. I picked her up. She wrapped her arms around me.

”You do. You need lots of things.”

The water was hot-exactly what she needed to clean the sweat and my scent off her skin. I lowered her feet into the tub.

From the shock of the hot water, her feet pranced in the tub, splas.h.i.+ng water on my chest and the floor. ”Hey! Hot, hot!” I had to force myself to not laugh at the look on her face. I could stare at her for hours. She's unlike the other women I've slept with. That must be it. That's the allure. She's different. ”The temperature should be cooler now after all that.”

”You don't have to do this.”

”I know I don't.” I soaped a washcloth and rubbed her skin leaving fine white bubbles on her legs. ”But I'm doing this, so relax.”

She stood with her weight on her left leg, her right knee bent. Her right arm crossed her chest holding her left arm to her side, covering her voluptuous b.r.e.a.s.t.s. I wiped her arms and legs down as her cheeks blushed furiously. The color of her skin reminded me of those iced mocha drinks they sell at those chain coffee shops.

She stilled my hand. Soapy water dripped from our fingers. In this position, I could lift her out of the tub, hold her against the bathroom wall, and make love to her again. I met the statement in her eyes. ”You were right. That wasn't casual.”

She let go of my hand. I bent down, loaded the cloth with soap. I held my breath as I ran the cloth over nipples. The hard nubs beckoned me to suck. I brutally ignored the urge.

For a distraction, I inspected her neck.

”What is it?”

”You have a long, pretty neck.” Perfect for lingering bites. I was careful to avoid wetting where I'd bitten her. Somehow, I'd remembered to seal the bite marks. f.u.c.king didn't dull all of my common sense. They were almost gone. She'll feel some residual pain tomorrow and will be none the wiser.

Again, I loaded the washcloth with soap and without asking her-she would have argued with me-I pushed the cloth between her legs.

”Why are you drawing this out?” she asked, flinching from the sensation of the cloth rubbing her nether lips.

”Beats the h.e.l.l out of me.” I rinsed the cloth, and then rubbed the soap off her. I never bathe the women I sleep with. s.h.i.+t! What is wrong with me? ”Turn around.” I held her, making sure she didn't slip in the tub.

”Tell me about your relations.h.i.+p with Juliana?”

Images of my daughter when she was alive and bratty, but alive, a.s.sailed me. ”This is a strange time for confessional, isn't it?”

”I don't think so. I pa.s.sed your weapons test, didn't I?”

I rubbed Ilida's curved back with the soapy washcloth. ”Is this how you counsel patients?”

I investigated her a.s.s. The puckered skin was red and swollen. I'd hurt her. ”You're going to be sore for a couple of days,” I said, as I poured soapy water on the slope of her a.s.s.

The water flowed down the gentle curve of her back to her crack. She gripped the wall and sucked in her breath. The sting radiated from her a.s.s to her thighs. So merciless was the burn that I felt it, too. For her health issues and her peace of mind, I cleansed the area. Vampires don't carry diseases, but I didn't want her to worry.

”This isn't counseling. It's a talk between good friends.”

”I didn't know Juliana existed until she was five years old. By then, I was too emotionally damaged to take care of her, so I sent her to live with my mother.” My chest threatened to constrict after saying that. I never shared that with anyone. How did she make me talk? Who the f.u.c.k is Ilida Davis?

”Where you abused by your father?”

”Yes and others.”

”So you stayed away from Juliana hoping she would have a better life with your mom. She never forgave you for leaving her.”

”I want to switch gears.”

We were silent for some time. I lingered on her back and behind for a while, lost in my emotions. She didn't complain even when she began to s.h.i.+ver.

”It wasn't bad,” she said.

Ilida faced me. She leaned against the tiled wall and hugged herself.

”It wasn't? Despite your cringing when I cleaned you back there.”

”It was strange, painful at first then it felt good. Primitive good.”

I rinsed the rag, wrung it out, and then placed it on the edge of the tub. ”A good f.u.c.k should feel primitive.”

She glared at me then. My tongue had a way of las.h.i.+ng humans and vampires at the worst times. I'm just being myself- warts, fangs and all.

”I a.s.sume you'll take me home.”

”I keep my word.”