JК
Guilty Pleasures :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 13 из 205I staredup into his very human eyes.
I could see the pulse in Monica's throat. She licked her lips; her eyes were enormous. She stuffed the money down the front of his pants.
Her hands traced his scars like nervous butterflies. She leaned her face close to his stomach and began kissing his scars, leaving red lipstick prints behind. He knelt as she kissed him, forcing her mouth higher and higher up his chest.
He knelt, and she pressed lips to his face. He brushed his hair back from his neck, as if he knew what she wanted. She licked the newest bite scar, tongue small and pink, like a cat. I heard her breath go out in a trembling sigh. She bit him, mouth locking over the wound. Phillip jerked with pain, or just surprise. Her jaws tightened, her throat worked. She was sucking the wound.
I looked across the table at Catherine. She was staring at them, face blank with astonishment.
The crowd was going wild, screaming and waving money. Phillip pulled away from Monica and moved on to another table. Monica slumped forward, head collapsing into her lap, arms limp at her side.
Had she fainted? I reached out to touch her shoulder and realized I didn't want to touch her. I gripped her shoulder gently. She moved, turning her head to look at me. Her eyes held that lazy fullness that sex gives. Her mouth looked pale with most of the lipstick worn away. She hadn't fainted; she was basking in the afterglow.
I drew back from her, rubbing my hand against my jeans. My palms were sweating.
Phillip was back on the stage. He had stopped dancing. He was just standing there. Monica had left a small round mark on his neck.
I felt the first stirrings of an old mind, flowing over the crowd. Catherine asked, “What's happening?”
“It's all right,” Monica said. She was sitting upright in her chair, eyes still half-closed. She licked her lips and stretched, hands over her head.
Catherine turned to me. “Anna, what is it?”
“Vampire.” I said.
Fear flashed on her face, but it didn't last. I watched the fear fade under the weight of the vampire's mind. She turned slowly to stare at Phillip as he waited on the stage. Catherine was in no danger. This mass hypnosis was not personal, and not permanent.
The vampire wasn't as old as Jean-Claude., not as good. I sat there feeling the press and flow of over a hundred years of power, and it wasn't enough. I felt him move up through the tables. He had gone to a lot of trouble to make sure the poor humans wouldn't see him come. He would simply appear in their midst, like magic.
I could see the pulse in Monica's throat. She licked her lips; her eyes were enormous. She stuffed the money down the front of his pants.
Her hands traced his scars like nervous butterflies. She leaned her face close to his stomach and began kissing his scars, leaving red lipstick prints behind. He knelt as she kissed him, forcing her mouth higher and higher up his chest.
He knelt, and she pressed lips to his face. He brushed his hair back from his neck, as if he knew what she wanted. She licked the newest bite scar, tongue small and pink, like a cat. I heard her breath go out in a trembling sigh. She bit him, mouth locking over the wound. Phillip jerked with pain, or just surprise. Her jaws tightened, her throat worked. She was sucking the wound.
I looked across the table at Catherine. She was staring at them, face blank with astonishment.
The crowd was going wild, screaming and waving money. Phillip pulled away from Monica and moved on to another table. Monica slumped forward, head collapsing into her lap, arms limp at her side.
Had she fainted? I reached out to touch her shoulder and realized I didn't want to touch her. I gripped her shoulder gently. She moved, turning her head to look at me. Her eyes held that lazy fullness that sex gives. Her mouth looked pale with most of the lipstick worn away. She hadn't fainted; she was basking in the afterglow.
I drew back from her, rubbing my hand against my jeans. My palms were sweating.
Phillip was back on the stage. He had stopped dancing. He was just standing there. Monica had left a small round mark on his neck.
I felt the first stirrings of an old mind, flowing over the crowd. Catherine asked, “What's happening?”
“It's all right,” Monica said. She was sitting upright in her chair, eyes still half-closed. She licked her lips and stretched, hands over her head.
Catherine turned to me. “Anna, what is it?”
“Vampire.” I said.
Fear flashed on her face, but it didn't last. I watched the fear fade under the weight of the vampire's mind. She turned slowly to stare at Phillip as he waited on the stage. Catherine was in no danger. This mass hypnosis was not personal, and not permanent.
The vampire wasn't as old as Jean-Claude., not as good. I sat there feeling the press and flow of over a hundred years of power, and it wasn't enough. I felt him move up through the tables. He had gone to a lot of trouble to make sure the poor humans wouldn't see him come. He would simply appear in their midst, like magic.