Belle Morte Bites (Belle Morte 4.3)

The Christmas Tree Competition

Modern Day

I woke up to the feeling of warm lips on the back of my neck – featherlight kisses, followed by the harder press of fangs.

"Wake up," Edmond murmured, sliding his arm around my waist.

"No," I said, burying my face in my pillow. "It's too early."

My vampire husband kissed the back of my neck again. "It's Christmas tree day, and if you don't get up, then Jason will either come and drag you out of bed, or he'll assume you're forfeiting the competition."

My eyes snapped open. "Oh, hell no."

Edmond chuckled. "That's what I thought."

I threw back the covers and scrambled out of bed. "Remind me what time we're leaving?"

"Ysanne wants to be on the road by 6, which means" – Edmond rolled over so he could look at the clock on the nightstand – "we've got twenty minutes."

"Plenty of time," I declared.

Since vampires couldn't sweat, we couldn't get body odour, which meant that, technically, we didn't need to shower, but I still didn't like the idea of starting the day without one.

"Do you want to shower first, or can I go?" I said.

"We could save time by showering together," Edmond suggested, lifting one dark eyebrow.

"I don't think so."

"Why?" Edmond reclined against the pillows, one arm stretched above his head, looking delicious enough to eat.

"When have we ever showered together and not had it turn into something more?"

Edmond's lips twitched. "Good point. We do have twenty minutes though. That's enough time to squeeze in a little bit of fun."

I leaned across him and kissed his mouth. "If we save it for when we get back, we can have a lot of fun."

"Why not both?" Edmond said, but I was already on my way to the bathroom.

I showered quickly, wrapped myself in a fluffy towel, and went back into the bedroom, where Edmond was now sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, his pale, perfect chest framed against our dark bedcovers. I felt a brief moment of regret that I hadn't pulled him into the shower with me. We'd been together for three years now, and that sizzling chemistry between us hadn't lessened one bit. I wanted him more than ever.

Edmond got up and walked to our bathroom. Instead of closing the door, he slipped down his black silk pyjama trousers so I could see him doing it. Of course he wore nothing underneath, and with a heroic effort, I tore my gaze away.

"You did that deliberately," I said.

"I don't know what you mean," Edmond said, his voice innocent.

I turned my back, determined not to look at him, because if I did, I might not be able to resist joining him in the shower.

While Edmond showered, I got dressed, throwing on jeans and flat boots, and a chunky knit jumper. When I'd first arrived at Belle Morte as a donor, I hadn't been allowed to bring anything of my own. Donors had to wear the clothes that Belle Morte provided for them, and even after I'd become a vampire, I'd had to keep wearing those same clothes, because I hadn't had anything else. But now that I lived here permanently, I'd started buying my own clothes. Part of me would always appreciate the glitz and glamour of the donor lifestyle, but it wasn't really me.

I heard Edmond come out of the bathroom, his bare feet almost noiseless on the floor, but I still didn't turn around because he'd either be naked, or wearing just a towel, neither of which I could resist.