How to Discipline Your Vampire(87)

            Remembering what I said last night was the last thing I wanted to think of right now. What I wanted to think about was using his tie as a gag and strapping him roughly to these thousand-thread-count sheets. Four Seasons—nice choice of hotel, by the way. I bet the little soaps in the bathroom cost more than the contents of my entire medicine cabinet, I mused.

            He noticed that I had stopped tongue-fucking his face.

            “Cerise?” he asked warily, looking into my soul with his otherworldly indigo eyes. He really needed to stop disarming me like that.

            I took a deep breath, and measured my words carefully. “Thank you for taking care of me last night,” I said bashfully, and sat up. I needed to acknowledge what he did—not only did he show me a great time, talk me down from my ledge, and put my drunk ass to bed . . . but he also listened to me. He comforted me, and he didn’t take advantage of my inebriated and horny state. “I’m beginning to wonder if vampires are a species of angel.”

            He smiled sweetly, and smoothed my bedhead. “Of course I’d take care of you,” he said, as though he did nothing extraordinary. Maybe he didn’t even know how special he was.

            “William,” I said, realizing I needed to clarify, “you, uhh, really went above and beyond the call of duty.”

            He frowned slightly, and explained. “I was taking care of your needs. Whatever you require, I give happily. A shoulder to cry on, or a hangover remedy—anything you need, I will take care of. Please don’t question my devotion,” he said, burying his head in my hair. “Thank you for sharing your past with me last night,” he whispered. “It feels good when you open up to me.”

            Honestly, it was true. Despite my embarrassment, I thought last night’s episode was cathartic for both of us. Slowly but surely, William was removing the bricks I had walled up around myself for years. At first, he merely beat his fists against them, but now, I believe he may have been dismantling my defenses.

            And I think I may be okay with it.

            “Well,” I said, cradling his head against me, “your journals showed me a lot about you, so I suppose it was only right for me to share as well.”

            “Can we talk more about it?”

            “Absolutely not,” I replied. I didn’t want to relive that nightmare again. Another time, another day, perhaps.

            “Then may I suggest an activity for today?” William asked politely, pulling himself out of the little cocoon he had made from my hair.

            I nodded, not knowing what to expect.

            He strode over to the closet, and pulled out a cute and casual skirt and blouse—both crafted from former pajamas, of course—and tossed them to me lightly. “We’re going to the movies,” he said.

            I raised my brows at him, and he retracted and rephrased. “Er, I mean, would you like me to accompany you to the movies, Mistress?” he asked.

            I nodded. “That’s better.”

            The theater was empty, but that was to be expected. I mean, really, who went to go see classic films at eleven AM on the weekend?

            A vampire and his girlfriend, that’s who.

            OH MY GOD—did I just think the word girlfriend?

            I mean Mistress. Right. MISTRESS.

            We found our seats, right in the middle, up toward the front, and William graciously bought me popcorn and ginger ale. My stomach was still a bit tender from the sidecar bender.

            “Casablanca,” I said as the screen sprung to life. “You know, it’s a shame I have never seen this. Guess I just never got around to it.”