She was seriously staring. Which was what you did when you got a gander at a man who is hung like a Louisville Slugger.

Life has gotten in the way of our life.

You sure about this?" he asked in a guttural voice. "I get down on that mattress right now, I'm not stopping until I'm inside of you.

V?" Butch said. "Don't leave, okay?" "Never." V brushed Butch's hair back with a gesture so tender it was out of place coming from a male.

Whoa. Fangs. She had fangs. She leaned in, prodded them a little. Eating with those puppies was going to take some getting used to, she thought. On impulse, she brought up her hands, turned her fingers into claws. Hissed. Cool.

Are you wet for me, Mary? I think you are. I think you're covered with honey.

V jerked back to the present. And for some reason didn't lie. "I'm thinking about my tattoos." "When did you get them?" "Almost three centuries ago." She whistled. "God, you live that long?" "Longer. Assuming I don't get cracked dead in a fight and you fool humans don't blow up the planet, I'll be breathing for another seven hundred years.