As I mentioned more than a month ago, I am reading the Anita Blake series by Laurell K. Hamilton, which starts with Guilty Pleasures. Onto book 6: The Killing Dance! I’m reading about 175 pages a week. Each week, I’ll be bringing you two posts: a review of the book and a related kinky post. This is my short sexy story!
Description from Amazon: In The Killing Dance, vampire hunter Anita Blake finds herself the victim when a $500,000 price is put on her head, and the two men in her life – a vampire and a werewolf – aren’t helping the situation.
The Killing Dance Part 1 (Ch 1-18)
In The Killing Dance, there is a scene about sleeping in bed with someone but not having sex. So here’s a short snippet from my current WIP. If you want to know more, stick around!
“Oh goodness,” I can’t help but think as I look at myself in the bathroom mirror. I am afraid that I’m not attractive enough, that I’m not wearing the right pajamas, that he’s going to reject me. I don’t know why he would reject me when we’ve come this far, but it’s what I fear anyway. And besides, why would I care if he rejected me? Wasn’t that what I wanted anyway? I hadn’t chosen this life. I had been chosen, and now I was stuck. So if he rejected me, wouldn’t that be a good thing?
Maybe. But then again, I’d probably be sent off into a worse situation if he rejected me. I need to breathe and hope that I’m enough. I just have to please him.
I walk out of the bathroom, and he’s laying on the bed in a pair of shorts, his chest bare. There’s a smattering of chest hair there that I can’t help but find attractive. I want to know what it feels like to touch it. I’m pretty sure it’s dangerous to touch him without being invited. Better to wait and see what he does.
“Hello, beautiful girl,” he says, and he pats the bed next to him.
God I hate being treated like a child. I think. Maybe I don’t hate it. Maybe I want to curl up in his arms and pretend the world is all okay. But it’s not okay. I climb onto the bed on the opposite side from him, keeping my distance.
“It’s okay,” he soothes, “I’m not going to hurt you tonight.”
That last word makes me shiver. Fear? Anticipation? Disgust? (Okay, not the last one.)
He reaches out a hand to touch me and goosebumps erupt on my arm where his fingers brush against my skin. “Come to me, beautiful girl. I want to hold you.”
He switches off the bedside light, plunging the room into darkness, as I scoot over and let him wrap me up in his arms. He holds me there in the dark, and I think it’s probably been hours. He falls asleep almost immediately, the soft sounds of his breath soothing in the dark. Is this what it will always be like? No, it can’t be. But it’s nice. Spending the night in his arms, afraid, but warm and dry and safe? Maybe safe. I don’t know. But I’ll take it, and maybe even enjoy it. Just for tonight.
J R Vincente 