Zen and the Art of Vampires

"You have a really impressive penis," I heard myself saying, and immediately slapped my hand over my mouth, appalled that I could speak without thinking.

His hips rubbed against me. "I'm glad you think so. I'm fond of it, myself, but I am naturally biased. Would you like to touch it?"

"I'd be lying if I said that wasn't suddenly at the top of my to-do list. Um… would you mind if I asked how you found me? And is Kristoff going to burst in here at any moment in order to drag me off to be a Zorya?"

His thumbs flicked across my breasts, leaving me gasping. "Let us leave discussions of all that for later, shall we? As for your first question, I followed your scent, your sweet, feminine scent."

I stared at him in complete befuddlement.

"I didn't think you'd buy that," he said with a wry smile and a faux sigh. "Actually, I took this while we were searching the shop."

He held out the hotel pamphlet with a map of the area that I'd received when the tour group checked in.

"Oh. So you really want to be here?" I asked, having a hard time believing that idea.

A look of doubt crossed his face. "Did I misread the signs? I thought you were just as interested in me as I am in you."

He couldn't be serious, could he? He didn't actually mean what I thought he meant, did he? I banged the back of my head on the door a couple of times, just to clear the cobwebs that so were clearly muddling my brain.

"Pia? Are you so distraught that you are trying to beat yourself senseless?" he asked, eyeing me in a manner that was definitely not of the romantic ilk.

"No, just trying to unscramble my brains. Alec, I'm… I'm… oh, hell." I gave up trying to reason, and flung myself on him. As I've mentioned, I'm not insubstantial by any stretch of the imagination, and the force of me plowing into him sent us both sprawling backward until we hit the bed, the two of us going down in a tangle of arms and legs, and one extremely naked penis.

He laughed as I stammered out an apology, his arms coming around hard behind me to hold me in place.

"I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you? Am I squashing you? Can you breathe? Oh dear god, I've killed you!"

"You didn't hurt me, and I can breathe just fine. It takes a great deal to harm me, you know," he answered, his voice once again warm and filled with sensual promise.

I pushed myself off his chest so I could look down at him, well aware that I was straddling him in a manner that would have probably constituted the definition of actual sex if I hadn't been fully clothed. "I'm dreaming, aren't I? I hit my head on the door when I came in, and I'm dreaming all this."

"I assure you, I'm very real." He laughed again, and suddenly, I was on my back, his chest warm against my hands as he leaned down and kissed the tip of my nose. "I take it you don't have objections after all, despite my friend's rather determined efforts to coerce you?"

He slid off me. I couldn't help giving a self-conscious grimace. "I told you before that I'm not the Zorya—"

"Hush." He stopped me by putting a finger over my mouth. "You need not protest your innocence with me, my love."

My eyebrows rose at both his words and the endearment.

"I believe you are who you say you are, Pia. That Kristoff still harbors suspicions to the contrary pains me, but you need not have any fear that I will allow him to act against you. You are too honest—as sweet as the honey you taste of—to mislead us as he believes."

I heaved a sigh of relief. "I'm so glad you see the truth, but I have to say that I met the Zorya earlier—"

He stopped me talking again, this time with his lips in a much longer, much hotter kiss. "We decided not to speak of Kristoff or the Zorya. This night is for us."

My brain was squirreling all around with any number of thoughts, not the least of which was an appreciation for his ability to kiss. "That sounds like a good idea, although I have to say that I don't generally fling myself on a man I've just met."

"Ah," he said, rising. "I thought that might be the issue. That's why I brought with me a little libation."

He padded off to the bathroom. I admired the scenery of his backside as he did so, then scrambled off the bed and ran to the mirror next to the door.

"You like champagne?" His voice drifted out of the bathroom, along with the sounds of a cork being popped.

"Love it!" I said, snatching up my brush and quickly brushing my hair. I grimaced at my reflection, then dug quickly through my bag for a stick of cinnamon gum, chewing it at warp speed while I mentally ran over the list of important issues. Thank god I had bought all new undies for the trip, not wanting to have to launder the worn-out and somewhat tattered things I habitually wore. But the thought of my underwear brought up a whole new horror—I couldn't let him see me in it, let alone naked.