Page 76 of Good Vampires Go to Heaven

Is there still a chance Michael could be convinced to ditch the marriage idea once this is over?

Maybe.

Even if we have sex?

Make up your mind, man.

His mind was made up for him when he glanced over at Regina who stood, naked as a jaybird (whatever the hell that was), proud as a Norse goddess with her red hair loose from its ponytail and forming a nimbus of red flames about her head. Or was she Xena Warrior Woman? Or that Celtic Queen Boudicca, who was rumored to have knee-length auburn hair and led an army against the Romans? No matter!

Regina was more voluptuous than he’d expected, covered as she usually was with loose clothing. Breasts which were ample but high and firm. Nipples a rosy hue, matching her kiss-bruised lips. And, yes, her hair was red down below, too. A trim waist. Wider hips. Long, muscle-toned legs. And, oh! Lookee, lookee! Sweet curved buttocks that begged to be cupped in male hands, his, in particular.

The die was cast.

He was a goner.

If he was stuck with this woman forever, so be it, and God bless.

“Are you done ogling me?” she sniped.

He smiled. Even when aroused, she maintained her snarkiness.

“Not nearly enough. Turn around.”

“No way! You’re wasting time, Zeb. Five minutes have gone by already. Your clock is ticking.”

“More than my clock is ticking,” he said and palmed himself.

“Crude lackwit!”

“And yet you want me,” he teased. Then, before she could snark some insult back at him, he closed the few feet between them, picked her up by the waist and tossed her onto the bed. Then he crawled up and over her, making sure he spread her legs in the process, and he pressed her arms over her head by lacing their fingers.

“I’ve got you now,” he said, raising his upper body so he could look down at her.

“The question is: What are you going to do with me?”

“Everything,” he promised.

And he did.

That same fog of cinnamon rain seemed to swirl around them, and he could swear that hazy blue wings sprang up from Regina’s shoulders. He wondered if the same were coming from his shoulders. “Do I have hazy blue wings?” he asked her.

She nodded, still stunned by his tossing her onto the bed. Or maybe it was his erection which stunned her, as it continued to grow between her legs, as if it had a life of its own.

Forget his penis. For now. There were increasing signs that he was becoming a vangel, or already was. The haze of wings being the latest. A sudden thought came to him. “What color are my eyes?” He widened them so she could see better.

“Blue, I think.”

There was light in the room, but it was dim. Maybe she was mistaken.

“Are you sure?”

She peered closer. “Yes. Sort of blue. Blueish gray, I think.”

Hallelujah! His eyes had been fluctuating between brown and blue, but now mostly blue. He would have done a high five if his hands hadn’t been otherwise occupied.

He relaxed with relief, or as much as he could relax being nude with a lady who was also nude, and his cock resting in her happy place.

But then, he noticed something else. All his senses were heightened to a remarkable extent, he realized. Like smell. And it wasn’t just the aroma of coffee which still brewed in the far-off kitchen, or the spicy cinnamon scent of his bed companion, but also the shampoo Regina must have used on her hair, plus the natural scent of her skin heightened by his Irish Spring soap, and her woman musk. He could even discern his own fresh rain body odor. “I love the way you smell,” he said, nuzzling her neck. He would sniff her down below, too, but he was pretty sure she would smack him. This early in the game, anyhow.