La Vida Vampire

“Decided to catch the floor show,” he said, “up close and personal.”


I blinked. His looks, which had struck me as vaguely Latino the first time I saw him, now seemed more so. Even his startling cobalt blue eyes spoke of Latin passion and seemed to challenge me. I felt suddenly hot, the salsa music thrummed in my body, and a nanosecond later, he stepped into me. He gripped my waist and hand, and moved to the rhythm. Body memory is a wonderful thing. It lets you move in ways you know by instinct —or by practice—while your brain is screaming “Oh. My. God.”

My brain screamed that and more, but I didn’t break free of Saber. I didn’t want to. I simply let myself follow his lead, even when he changed the dance from salsa to merengue.

I went from hot to flash point when he plastered us pelvis -to-pelvis and rocked to the driving beat. His blatantly sensual gaze held me in thrall. The brush of our bodies made me forget to breathe, but I met him step for timeless step. When I was nothing but molten cells, he dipped me so low, my hair brushed the floor. I didn’t even realize he held my leg behind the knee until applause started and he caressed the bare skin up my thigh as he helped me stand again.

“Wonderful, wonderful,” Danielle exclaimed from behind me.

I scrambled out of Saber’s arms and turned, breathing harder than I thought was possible for me. At my back, Saber didn’t sound the slightest bit winded.

“Really,” Danielle continued, “I’ve never seen the merengue danced with such passion. You two could win a competition.”

Saber gave her a little bow. “Thanks for letting me horn in on your class, Danielle.”

She grinned broadly and patted his arm. “Anytime, honey.”

She dismissed class and reminded us that she wouldn’t be teaching next week. The Franklins looked disappointed, the coeds, crushed. They shot drooling gazes at Saber.

“Ready to go home?” he asked, taking my elbow to escort me from the restaurant. Home with Saber? After an intimate dance that made my erotic dreams look like patty -cake? Ay-yi-yi. He might be my jailer, but there was no way I was ready to be completely alone with him right now. What could we do with the rest of the night?

Oh, wait! Wal-Mart. Nothing remotely erotic about Wal-Mart, right? Not much erotic about Target or Kmart or a dozen other stores, either, but Wal-Mart was open 24-7!

Now if I could just get him to take me there.



“Don’t tell me a manly man like you can’t be seen at Wal-Mart. Heck, Saber, nobody in town knows you.”

Oh yes, he’d driven me to the store, but he’d groused about it the whole way.

I took a shopping cart from the nice cart lady at the door, looked over my shoulder and said, “Let’s go.”

Since Maggie really didn’t keep much food in the refrigerator—or the cabinets for that matter—I headed to the grocery department first.

“We have Saturday and part of Sunday to get through. What do you want to eat?” I asked.

“Will it bother you if I broil a steak?”

“Broil away.”

I pointed him toward the meat counter and followed at a distance with the cart —the distance because the smell of meat turns my stomach, even in a store. The odor of cooking meat is worse, but what could I expect when the villagers had deep roasted vampires, and I’d had to smell it? On the other hand, I love the aroma of charcoal. Go figure. After he grabbed the biggest T-bone in the case, Saber moved on to the vegetables, where he picked up a bag of pretossed salad and baking potatoes. Next we moved to dairy, where he snagged real butter, sour cream, and a package of cubed cheddar cheese. As we moved up and down the other aisles, he added two kinds of steak sauce to the cart along with salad dressing and a box of animal crackers. The dressing was French, a sharp reminder of why we were together in the first place. The animal crackers? Maybe he ate creatures now instead of hunting them, but the choice was rather endearing. When he was satisfied with his grocery selections, I wheeled the cart toward the clothing section.

“You’re not buying Wal-Mart clothes, are you?”

“Actually, I’m looking at purses, but what do you have against Wal-Mart fashions?”

He shook his head. “Vampires don’t wear Wal-Mart.”

“They don’t know what they’re missing,” I said as I paused and eyed the purses. A quick look told me they didn’t have the color I was looking for. I’d try Bealls Outlet another time.

I wheeled through the women’s department to a major aisle and turned right to head toward the back of the store.

“Didn’t like the purses?” Saber asked, trailing behind me.

“I need a different color.”

“So now what are you looking for?”

“The classic movies they have on DVD.”

“And then what?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, waving a hand. “I might price an external hard drive for my computer. Wander through the small appliances. Pick up self-tanning lotion and hair straightener.”

“Your hair is fine the way it is.”