"We need to talk." Four words that send fear through any woman's heart.
When the man saying them is tall, dark and built like a Greek god with a face to match, the words take on an even more ominous tone. Involuntarily shivers of dread whispered through me at the thought of losing this man who I had become addicted to. Exactly three weeks since we had rediscovered each other and experienced our first mind blowing, up against a brick wall, coupling. I didn't want to hear what he had to say, but I could hardly run away. There was nowhere to run to. We were naked, post coital and sprawled across my queen-size bed. I couldn't even cower under the covers. The sheet and comforter were in a heap on the floor. My clothes and his were strewn across the floor. There was nowhere to hide.
I closed my eyes, hoping he would think I was asleep. After all, he couldn't see my face, but I knew that he knew that I was awake. I never slept when he was around. Not that I was afraid he might drain me of my bodily fluids, but like a small child when company was visiting, I was afraid of missing a minute of the action. Which may be one of the reasons why I was not looking forward to whatever he had to say. No good could come of any conversation that started with "we have to talk".
My shoulders twitched when two cool fingers brushed the hair away from my neck. Then his fingers began to trace a path down the center of my spine. He started at my hairline and paused to circle each vertebra before continuing further south. I raised my head to look at the bedside table. The green numbers on my digital clock glowed 4:47.
I swallowed hard. "You have to go." My words weren't a question, but an acknowledgement of fact.
His leaving was the last thing I wanted, but having a vampire as a lover there are some things one just has to accept.