“Apparently feathers are where it’s at,” I said. “Seductive and goose-bump inducing.”
“Keep going,” Mark said. He peeled himself off the floor and walked to the kitchen. I heard the clinking of glass and the pop of a cork while I prattled on about G-spots and how to locate them. “Red okay?” he called.
“Red what?” I called back.
“Wine,” he clarified.
“You’re gonna let me drink wine?” I asked. Suddenly I had no interest in ways to set fire to a bedroom.
He walked in with two glasses filled halfway with dark red liquid.
“You’re spending the night. I have no intention of taking advantage of you. And I won’t let you get crazy,” he said, offering me a glass.
I took it a little too greedily. As crazy as this sounds, I’d never gotten drunk. Yes, I got high on cocaine, but I’d never gotten drunk. Why didn’t I choose the lesser of two evils? I don’t know.
“And you’re not getting drunk,” Mark said, like he could read my mind. Or maybe he could sense my eagerness to get my little fingers around the glass.
I smiled and took a sip. I’d never tasted wine. It was rich and smooth, heavy and dark. I took another sip. Bizarre, I know, but I imagined I was a vampire drinking blood. I knew blood tasted nothing like this. (Another, slightly longer sip.) I licked a wound on my knee when I was six and discovered that blood tasted biting and metallic. (And a big ass gulp.) But I pretended I was drinking blood anyway because I thought it was sexy. And because I wanted to be a vampire for a few minutes. The headiness was almost instantaneous. Perhaps that’s why I wanted to be a vampire.
“Cadence, wine is meant to be sipped, not guzzled,” Mark said, chuckling.
“Huh?” I looked at my glass. It was empty! When did that happen? I looked at Mark and ran my tongue over my top teeth. No fangs. And I really wanted to be a vampire. “May I have another?”
Mark eyed me curiously. “Yes, Cadence. But will you promise me you’ll sip this time?”
I nodded enthusiastically.
I drank this glass much slower, but that was mostly because I was told I couldn’t have a third. I felt languid, like a warm rain puddle, and crawled into Mark’s lap with the intention of soaking him. I wanted to see the water run over his arms and bare chest. I asked him to take off his shirt, and he obliged me with a chuckle.
“Wow,” I whispered.
“You like?” he asked, tossing his shirt on the couch.
“I like. Very much,” I said, and leaned over to kiss his well-defined pecs. His was definitely no boy’s body. He was very grown up. He had grown-up muscles and smooth, blemish-free grown-up skin. I looked down at the soft patch of grown-up hair trailing below his navel, disappearing under his pants.
“Your hair tickles,” he said, gently lifting my blond locks away from his chest and stomach. “It’s so soft.” He ran his fingers through it.
I sat up and looked him square in the face.
“I have to tell you something,” I said. “But I don’t wanna scare you.”
“Okay.”
“I’m a vampire,” I leaned over, burying my face in Mark’s neck, and bit him. Hard.
He grunted and pulled on my hair, forcing me to look at him.
“Do that again, you little vixen,” he said.
“I’m not a vixen. I’m a vampire,” I corrected, and leaned over once more to bite his neck.
I heard a now familiar rumble in his throat as he trapped me in his arms and laid me down on the couch. He kissed me tenderly, and I could taste the sweetness of the wine on his mouth, his tongue, as he traced a line over my bottom lip.
“Did I do that right?” he asked.
I nodded and pulled him down on me once more. He hovered over me. I was pinned, with no chance of escape. I didn’t want to escape, though. I wanted him to force himself inside of me, and I wouldn’t say no. I thought I might struggle for show, but I knew I’d never deny him.
“I’m ready, Mark,” I breathed, feeling his mouth on my neck.
“I’m not letting you have another glass, Cadence,” he replied.
“I’m not talking about wine. I’m talking about love. I’m ready for you to—” I paused for effect. “—make love to me.”
Mark drew back and smiled wearily. “You’ve had too much to drink. So no.”
“But listen,” I said, pushing him off me and climbing into his lap once more. I grabbed his hands. “I know it’ll hurt. But maybe it won’t hurt as much now since I’m feeling pretty loosey-goosey. Know what I mean?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows.
“I know what you mean,” Mark replied.
“I’m ready to touch it,” I said.
“Touch what?”
“Mark! Don’t make me say ‘dick’ out loud!” I shook my head. “Oh, drats. I said it.”
Mark burst out laughing. “‘Drats’? Who says ‘drats’? Ever?”
“Stop making fun of me, and do me,” I replied, laughing. I placed my hands on either side of his face. “You are the sexiest man alive. In the entire universe. Do you understand what I’m saying to you? I want you to make love to me all night long, you sexy sexy big muscley man.” I leaned forward and kissed him sloppily. I wasn’t trying for a sloppy kiss. It just happened.
“My little Cadence,” Mark said when I pulled away from him. He brushed the hair from my face with his fingertips. “Tell me about your morning routine.”
“Okay,” I squealed. “Well, my hair is naturally wavy, but I’m really into straightening it right now. So I have to get up earlier for school to flat-iron it.”
“You iron your hair?” he asked.
“Uh huh,” I replied. “You’ve never seen a flat iron?”
Mark shook his head.
“Well, I packed it. I’ll show you in the morning.”
He nodded, amused.
“It takes a long time ‘cause I’ve got a lot of hair,” I said, grabbing a chunk and lifting it to the side.
“I see,” Mark said. “It’s very beautiful.”
I grinned. “And I’ve been experimenting with new make-up trends. Specifically eye shadow techniques. So I’ve been allotting myself an extra fifteen minutes in the morning to work on my eyes.”
“Beautiful eyes,” Mark said.