Danse Macabre   ::   Гамильтон Лорел

I didn't fight, but I did pull back a little.

She hesitated, giving me those strange black eyes of hers. «If I outrank you, Anita, then it is my choice where to touch.»

I shook my head. «No, that you're trying for the neck instead of the wrist means only one of three things: you don't trust me, you're showing how big and bad you are, or you're thinking sex. Which is it, Thea?»

«The second,» she said. She kept trying to pull me in against her body, and I started to let her. The strength in her one hand let me know that if I really wanted to struggle I'd have a fight on my hands. She was strong, like shapeshifter strong.

She kept her grip on my wrist as she used her other hand to pull me in against her body, until the two of us were pressed together, not tight, but so our bodies brushed from chest to thighs.

I had to talk staring at her shoulder. She was just too tall for me. «Why do you want me to know that you're big and bad?»

«My wife is very competitive with other women, Anita,» Samuel said. «Surely Jean-Claude mentioned that, as he mentioned your temper to us.»

«He said something about it, but…«She let go of my wrist so she could slide that arm around my back, pressing me closer to her. Her other hand was sliding up my back toward my hair. But I hadn't understood what competitive meant, I thought. It took almost everything I had not to tense up as she entwined her body around me, close now, so close, lover close, sex close.

Her breasts were small and tight, and she wasn't wearing a bra. Eeek. I felt stupid with my arms limp at my sides, and I didn't really want to encourage her, but… I ended up sort of hugging her just to keep my balance on the damned high heels.

She leaned her mouth close to my face and whispered, «I do want you to understand that I am superior to you, Anita, but that is only half my reason.»

My pulse sped up a little at that. I started to turn to look at her face, but she grabbed a handful of curls and kept my face turned away. I was left staring at the man who had blushed. He looked at me, full face, and he suddenly looked like a younger version of Samuel. How had I not seen it before? He mouthed, I am sorry .

I had trouble speaking around my pulse now, because I had that bad feeling that something was about to happen. Something I wasn't going to enjoy. «What's the other half of your reason?» I asked, voice breathy, holding that edge of nervousness that held a touch of fear.

«I want to know what you are, Anita,» she whispered, and her breath was warmer than it had been.