Vampires Are Foreve(63)

“Anytime, beautiful,” Thomas said lightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before stepping away. “Now stop standing here all wet and tempting and go get dressed so I can shower.”

“Yes, sir,” Inez said with a grin as she moved passed him to leave the room. At the door she paused and glanced back to ask, “You didn’t want help getting those nasty jeans off, did you?”

Inez grinned as the silver flared in his eyes at the very idea, but Thomas shook his head and one finger at her at the naughty thought. “I’m going to start calling you apple.”

Inez wrinkled her nose. “Why? Because I’m short and round?”

“No. Because you’re the apple sent to tempt me,” he announced and then added solemnly, “And you are tempting, Inez. If you knew all the things I want to do to you right now….” He shook his head and then apparently decided to tell her. “Right now I’d like nothing more than to peel away that towel, lick and nibble away every drop of liquid I see on your skin, and then—”

“Okay, I’m going to get dressed now,” Inez said a little faintly, her gaze dropping instinctively to his jeans and widening as she saw the bulge there. She wasn’t the only one affected by the images he’d presented.

“Go,” Thomas growled, the word almost a warning.

Nodding, Inez turned quickly away and hurried out into the bedroom. Her skin was covered with goose bumps and little shivers were licking down her back, and she suspected once they did get together, whether it was fast and desperate or slow torture as he did all he wanted to do to her, by the time it was over she’d be hard-pressed not to agree to anything he wanted.#p#分页标题#e#

Shaking her head, Inez moved to the closet and quickly selected a pair of dress slacks and a pure white blouse. There wasn’t a pair of jeans or T-shirt in the closet, but that didn’t matter, Inez didn’t wear jeans, they made her butt look big. She didn’t wear T-shirts either, feeling they emphasized her overgenerous bust.

Dropping the towel, Inez quickly dressed, listening to the sound of the shower as she did.



Thomas turned off the shower and opened the door to step out, stopping when he saw Inez at the bathroom counter. She’d brushed her hair and was pulling the damp strands back into a ponytail. He saw her eyes slide over him and then widen as they dropped below. Blushing furiously, she turned quickly back to the mirror.

Thomas smiled faintly as he reached for the second towel he’d brought in earlier and wrapped it around himself, but didn’t say anything to increase her embarrassment. Her reaction was because he was still sporting a very healthy erection. He wanted to blame it on the S.E.C. he’d consumed last night, but knew that was out of his system now. She, however, wasn’t and—judging by what he’d seen with other true lifemates—wouldn’t be out of his system ever. Oh, there might come a time, centuries down the road, when he could look at her without wanting to pin her against the nearest surface and give her “a good seeing to” as the British liked to say. But he would still want her, just in a more gentle, mellow fashion without all the desperation presently claiming him.

Right now he couldn’t even think of the woman without “little Thomas” perking up with interest. It was really rather disconcerting.

“I’m going to go get dressed,” he said brushing his fingers lightly down her back as he passed and smiling when she shivered in response. That was one good thing about all this; at least he wasn’t alone in his need. Inez wanted him just as badly, he knew. Thomas could smell her hunger for him in the pheromones pouring off her body every time he got near.

Thomas hurried from her room and into his own, passing through the door just as the phone began to ring. Turning to the bedside table, he snatched up the phone, saying a cheerful, “Yo?”

“Thomas?”

He stiffened at the urgency in Bastien’s voice. “Yes.”

“You have to get moving. You have to find Mother.”

Thomas felt his hand clench around the phone. “What’s happened?”

“We’ve been calling Mother on her cell phone,” Bastien said grimly. “None of us have been getting answers, but Etienne got the idea of trying during the daytime when she would be sleeping and couldn’t miss the call. He apparently checked the Internet last night and found out what time sunrise was in Amsterdam and then called fifteen minutes after that.”

Thomas waited, trepidation creeping up his back. He knew bad news was coming.

“The phone was answered this time,” Bastien said grimly. “But not by Mother. A man with a British accent answered. He cussed out Etienne for the constant calls we’ve all been making, told him to ‘bugger off’ and stop calling or he’d—I quote—‘Kill the bitch’ and then he hung up.”