Demon Night

Charlie: You need me as much as I need you, and that’ll never change, and I ain’t ever ridding myself of you. And if you ever rid yourself of me, I’ll just follow you around, groaning real loud.”
    She grinned, her legs tightening around him. “I know a guy who did that once.”
    “Is that a fact?” His gaze fell to her teeth, and he shuddered lightly, all over, as if someone had whispered a wicked promise in his ear.
    “Yes,” she said, and turned her cheek against the pillow so that his mouth could begin exploring her jaw, the line of her shoulder. “Just followed this lady around, drifting along behind her, and taking her clothes off whenever he could.”
    “Well now, that sounds like a man of dubious character.”
    “He was a good guy. Heroic, even. But he also had a speech impediment, and never said anything directly, which was why he’d resorted to groaning.”
    “And I reckon the lady in this story doesn’t make any kind of sense.”
    Only because it was impossible to think when Ethan did that thing with his tongue on her neck. “She makes perfect sense to me. And she hardly ever understood him, but she really, really wanted to. And he had no idea why he wanted her so bad, but she realized it must be because he kept climbing over the wall between their balconies, and sneaking into her apartment while she slept. And after he saw her naked, he just couldn’t stop following her, because he loves pink things, and plump things, and titties—”
    “I sure as hell do.” He lifted his head, grinning; then he used his mouth to show her how much.
    Her fingernails dug into his biceps. “Yeah. And…yeah. And she kept thinking about sucking on him—”
    “With those sexy crooked fangs.”
    “Fuck you. They aren’t crooked; they just aren’t straight. And she wasn’t thinking of sucking his neck, exactly…And it was his fault, because he kept talking about how he didn’t wear underwear.”
    “I’m blushing awful hard now, Charlie.”
    “Is that what they called it back then? Blushing?”
    “It just ain’t manly to blush anywhere else. Women, now—they can blush all over. But this is where it’s prettiest. So soft and wet.”
    “And his hands,” she gasped. “And he had big hands—oh, God, don’t stop doing that—and a voice that made her drunk just listening to it; drunk but not stupid, and never coming down from the high. And just looking at him made her heart stop, because he was so freaking sexy and funny and strong and amazing that—”
    He nipped her inner thigh. “You hush, Miss Charlie.”
    She sang for him, instead.