Nice Girls Don't Date Dead Men by Molly Harper Read Free Book Online

said. He held up half-empty bottles of Hershey’s syrup and Bailey’s Irish Cream. “That’s just for flavor!”
    “I’m afraid that you’re becoming too accustomed to drinking synthetic blood, Jane,” he said. “It’s only a recent development, and production could stop with the turn of the political tide. And then where will you be?”
    “On eBay, looking for remainders?” I guessed.
    “What if you’re too far away from a store to get a supply? What if the supply is tainted? You need to become more comfortable drinking human blood, feeding from live subjects.” He hushed me when I opened my mouth to protest. “I know how you feel about feeding from humans, but I want you to have the skills you need to survive. Just in case. I want you to be able to hunt on your own.”
    “So, I’m like a domesticated bear, and you’re working up to releasing me into the wild?”
    “Yes, that’s the worst possible way you could have taken this gesture, thank you,” he muttered, setting the cooler aside.
    “Thank you,” I finally said. “I appreciate the fact that you thought of me while you were away.”
    “Every spare moment,” he promised, moving in closer for a kiss.
    I stopped him. “Are you sure I’m not accused of something? Feeding on senior citizens? Kicking toddlers? Stealing candy from babies?”
    He was darkly cute when he was indignant. “It’s not a bad omen
every
time I come to call.”
    “You’re right,” I conceded. “I’m being rude. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
    In a very serious tone, he said, “I think we should have sex again.”
    “What?” I giggled. I couldn’t help it. Gabriel and I hadn’t been able to “date” per se. Dating a vampire is difficult, even if you
are
a vampire. I mean, it’s not as ifwe can go out to dinner like a normal couple. We don’t eat. On the rare occasion that we were both at one of our houses and sitting still, Zeb and Jolene or Andrea or Dick would show up, and our twosome became a group gathering. As much as I loved having a close group of diverse friends who understand my special needs, talk about a bunch of mood killers.
    “I think we should have sex again,” he repeated. “I think we’ve reestablished our rapport and friendship. I believe you’re starting to trust me again. I know you want me.”
    “That’s kind of presumptuous,” I told him. He wasn’t wrong, but it was still presumptuous.
    Obviously irritated by my not jumping him right then and there, he added, “Also, the first time was rather rushed, and I don’t feel that I was able to demonstrate my full range of, er, technique.”
    “So, you think we should have Naked Happy Fun Time because I didn’t get to see all of your moves?” I said, barely able to contain a second giggle fit as he backed me against the counter. “You don’t just say something like that. You have to take me out for dinner or something.”
    “Here.” He reached into the fridge and pulled out a packet of A-negative. “Drink that.”
    I arched an eyebrow at him. “You really don’t understand the concept of modern courtship, do you?”
    “Drink it,” he commanded. Humoring him, I popped the top and took a long drink of the smooth, lusciously nutty donated blood. Tasting genuine human blood after months of synthetic always left me a little woozy. Littlepinpricks of sensation, nerves firing along my arms and throat, made me lean heavily against the counter to get my bearings.
    Gabriel took the packet from my slightly trembling hand. “Now, kiss me.”
    “I’m not a light bulb, you can’t just flip a switch and turn me—”
    Gabriel gripped my cheeks between his palms and seized my lips, the last syllables of my sentence muffled into his mouth.
    “I stand corrected,” I admitted as we backed into the living room.
    “Is your aunt here?” he asked, tugging at my T-shirt.
    I shook my head. “Hot ghost date.”
    “I think—
gah
!” Distracted by the front closure on my bra, Gabriel