Author's note: thank you for your interest in my Bill and Sookie romances. Since you've been so stalwart, here's a little something extra, just for you!


I was working on my notes from a session with The Twins (currently my most difficult clients: born twins in Japan, they were now vampires that intensely disliked each other but couldn't tolerate being apart for long), when I heard Bill downstairs say, "Sweetheart?"

"In my office," I responded at normal volume; vamps had excellent hearing, so we didn't do a lot of shouting in our house. Unless we got angry with each other. Which didn't happen that often. But when it did, boy, could things get loud!

I was so caught up in my writing that when Bill appeared at my shoulder, I actually jumped. "Goddammit, Bill! You know I hate it when you do that!" After 30-some years of being with Bill, this was more a stock response than a genuine one, but I loved how he always looked instantly humbled.

He stood behind me, rubbing my shoulders and back in a soothing gesture to calm me. I kept typing. He gently pulled out the band holding my ponytail, letting my hair spill down my back. He sank his fingers in, pulling them through my hair, fluffing it up. "Mmmm," I murmured, but I kept on typing.

Bill lifted my hair up from my neck and I felt his cool lips nibbling my nape; I shivered, but I kept typing.

Bill's talented hands slipped down the front of my shirt, softly caressing the tops of my breasts above the lace border of my bra. I let out a tiny gasp, but I kept on typing. His long fingers wiggled inside my bra, and finding my nipples already crinkled in anticipation, he gave them careful pinches that made my head go loose on my shoulders, falling back against my desk chair.

"Bill," I sighed up at him, "I need to finish. What do you want?"

He looked down into my eyes, his own liquid with love and desire. "You," he said in his voice smooth like spring water spilling over stones.

I reached up and captured his face in my hands, drawing him down to my parted lips. In the time we've been together, I think I've had Bill in every way possible, and a few ways that shouldn't be possible, but I never got used to the feeling of kissing him upside down. His tongue curled against mine, like we were wrestling inside our mouths, and his lips snatched my bottom lip, sucking it in his mouth. His fangs were fully down for me, and he pierced my lip and drew in my blood. That made him groan into my mouth—he had always been wild for the taste of me.

I gave his ear a twist, making him grunt and pull away. His lovely sculpted brow knitted in consternation. "You are… rejecting me?" Bill's voice was edged with dejection. I had learned that my vampire was quick to assume unhappiness on my part and was easily hurt by it.

I returned my gaze to the screen, resting my hands back on the keyboard. I shrugged, "I need to finish this up and I'm not convinced that you can't wait."

Now this was a game we often played, dodging each other's advances to ramp up the sexual tension to almost unbearable levels. Bill had come to understand the game and was usually a willing player. For whatever reason tonight, his patience for play was short. I could feel his irritation though our blood connection and I'd bet his eyes were blazing as he growled, "Oh I can wait, darling, but you can't."

To show him he was wrong, I pushed my chair back enough to bump his belly, and he growled again. Score: Sookie 1, Bill 0.

As I resumed typing, Bill stood silently behind me; I could feel him plotting his next move, but I refused to acknowledge his presence.

Now I have to interrupt myself to explain that one of my very first experiences with Bill, many decades ago, was seeing the devastation he wrought on the trailer occupied by two drainers who had attacked him and later, attacked me for rescuing him from them. He had flipped over the trailer, crushing the drained drainers underneath, tearing up a few trees to disguise his murderous rage as a tornado. I told him back then that I wasn't prepared for the extent of his vampire strength.

So I should not have been surprised when Bill picked me up still in my chair, the wheels underneath spinning comically as he swept me downstairs. He dumped me out unceremoniously on the rug in front of the fire, and I plopped with a whoosh like air leaving a cushion.

For a split second, I was too stunned to form a thought. Then with vampire speed, I leapt up, my fists balled at my sides, a snarl on my face. Bill stood on the other side of my desk chair, his arms folded insouciantly across his powerful chest, giving me a dark-eyed stare.

Something about his casual certainty just got under my fingernails and I stormed around the chair and got right up in his face. "Bill, if you had been working and I had picked you up and carried you downstairs and dumped you on the carpet, would you be in the mood?"

He grinned at me very slowly, so I had the chance to take in his fangs, before he ran his tongue along the tips of them.

I didn't know whether or not to be shocked or furious, so I went with furious. "That's it!" I hollered and grabbed Bill around his waist, hoisting his feet off the ground. At first, Bill was still and silent—I must have really surprised him (I occasionally threatened to pick him up, because he liked to pick me up and carry me around, but in deference to his old-fashioned sensibilities, I never made good on the threat.). But then he started laughing and pushing at my hold on his waist; he wasn't pushing all that hard or he could have likely ripped off my arms.

But then, as Bill realized I was walking him toward our room, he began to struggle in earnest. I took that as a sign that his sense of machismo was being violated (as I always tell my human assistant Tegen, the ERA came before the VRA…). But I was infuriated enough—and proud of myself enough—that his struggling wasn't gonna set him free.

"Honey, you will not be getting away from me," I told my twisting vampire through gritted teeth.

"Sookie!" Bill exclaimed. "SOOKIE!" He was practically shouting, and just as we reached the bed, he pushed hard enough on my arms that he hurt me and I let him go. With my vampire speed, I slammed the door with a bang, and jumped Bill while he was still bouncing on the mattress.

"You hurt me!" I whined at Bill, forcing his shoulders down on the bed. Exactly as I'd hoped, he instantly looked concerned and glanced at my arms, shifting his focus; it was all the time I needed. I locked my thighs on his hips, balled his shirt in my hands and yanked.

Bill's shirt ripped up the side seams, exposing his gorgeous chest, and before he could gauge what was happening, I drove my mouth down on his flesh right below his collarbone, thrusting my fangs toward his thoracic artery (now, I knew from the couple of anatomy classes I'd taken for my psych degrees that this artery is under a fair amount of muscle—and Bill is pretty muscular, even though he's lean), biting deep and hard.

Bill yowled like a skinned cat when I tore his flesh; as he grabbed my shoulders and shoved me backwards, I was thinking I might have gone a tad too far. His mouth came down hard on mine, splitting my lip. He sucked in my blood and my tongue in one motion and I moaned—but I wasn't quite ready to give in.

I whipped my legs up, wrapping them tightly around his narrow waist, locking my ankles for together extra grip. At he same time, I flung my arms around his neck, linking my fingers together, and with a heave, flipped us off the bed. We landed on the floor with a thud that would have knocked the wind out of humans. Now I was on top, right where I wanted to be, and tangling my fingers in his thick, dark hair, I hauled his face up to mine, clamping my mouth on his and biting his tongue. I tried to swallow his blood and his tongue at the same time, and Bill gurgled a bit at that.

But instead of continuing to struggle, he went limp, falling back on the carpet like a wrung out washcloth.

Now it was my turn to be concerned. "Honey?" I leaned over him. "Bill? Baby?"

His eyes flew open and I knew I was in trouble in that split second before he heaved me up from the floor to the bed. He was on top of me in a vampire second, holding me down with his hands and body weight; there was no way I could move. So I started giggling.

Bill didn't look all that amused, so I grinned up at him and said, "Uncle?" His brow creased and he replied, "No. Sire."

That made me giggle more, my stomach jiggling against Bill's—that made him laugh. And as he was laughing, he slowly lowered his face to mine and started kissing me. Real kisses. As only Bill can kiss.

Bill had taught me to kiss, really. And now that I knew more about his human life and his vampire existence both, his kissing was all the more surprising. He didn't kiss like a man who'd learned how 200 years ago. He kissed inventively, even imaginatively, putting his whole body into it. He used his lips and tongue to explore, rather than assault, and he varied his technique and pacing a lot, rarely sticking with one style for long. Even though I knew him thoroughly, I sometimes wondered who I was kissing, he could feel so different. He seemed different now.

My whole body rose to his kisses. I began to wiggle under him, wanting more. Bill pressed one of his legs down between mine and settled his hips, and his bulging jeans, between my parted thighs. His hips picked up the rhythm of his tongue, and I couldn't help it: I started panting for him.

Bill slid off to one side, propped up on an elbow. His free hand wandered down my body, pausing here and there for a tweak or a caress or a scratch or a rub, all of which had me quivering. He opened my jeans and slipped his cool hand inside my panties, and his cool fingers inside me. That made us both moan.

As he pushed his fingers in, he curled them to stroke my special spot and as he pulled them out, he drew across my nub, already swollen and super-sensitive. A fleeting thought zipped through my brain: how lucky was I that my first lover—Bill—knew all the right things to do, and that my eternal lover—okay, still Bill—knew all those same tricks. But the rhythm of Bill's hand was pushing all thoughts from my head.

I rolled toward him a little, so I could unzip his jeans and start pushing them down. He kicked his legs a little, to help, but his busy hand never stopped. "You aren't making this easy," I complained.

"Oh, it is easy you want?" Bill said smoothly, arching one perfect eyebrow. He withdrew his hand, which made me try to snatch it back, but he proceeded to trail it up my stomach, making me shiver, and snake up under my shirt. His mouth followed along where his hand had been, until he was nuzzling my breasts through the fabric, then biting at my nipples and pulling at them with his teeth. His fangs were snagging a bit in the stretchy material of my bra. I was practically whimpering by now.

"Take them off," I said, meaning my clothes, his clothes—well, his shirt was mostly ripped anyway. Vamps are hard on their clothes. Each other's clothes.

Bill got up on his knees to shuck out of his pants, then leaned over to pull off mine, and I lifted up under him to lick his chest. He rumbled for me, a sound I'd always loved. He poised himself above me on straightened arms, looking down at me like I was the most delicious thing he could imagine—and I sincerely believe he thought I was—and said, "Open for me, darling."

Somehow, my urge to tease him was still winning over my desire for him, and I shook my head, clamping my legs together and folding my arms across my breasts. Bill made a sound of complete exasperation and moved to part my legs, but I flipped over on my stomach, pressing myself hard into the mattress.

Something about presenting him with my bottom made him change his tactics, and he sunk down next to me, trailing his fingertips ever so lightly up my spine and back down, across my rump and the backs of my thighs and back up again. By the time he was starting back down, I was whimpering for real, and he wiggled his long fingers in between my legs, rubbing them in and out. He eased on top of me, knowing by then he'd get no further argument, and I opened my legs for his entry.

He pressed in slowly and steadily until he was buried in me and still he pressed in; as he began backing out, I followed him to keep him inside, bringing us both up on our knees. I felt Bill adjust his angle a little, stroking just right to rub my sensitive spot inside. Two or three strokes had me gasping; seven or eight had me shaking; by a dozen or so I was ready to collapse, but Bill growled, "Don't move," and he hit hard, once, twice, and I flew over the edge, calling his name. He called mine in response and followed me over and down, pounding me into the mattress as he grunted his completion.

I shoved him enough to roll us onto our sides, snuggling back against him until there was no air space between us, then tried to get closer still. Bill threw an arm and a leg over me to pull me in closer and tighter. I "mmmm"ed my contentment, wiggling my butt like a happy puppy. He snuzzled into my hair until he found some skin and kissed me softly.

"Now sweetheart," Bill said, "what were you saying about needing to finish… something?"

I put all my love for him in my voice and said, "Seems like you took care of that for me." And even though I couldn't see his face, I could feel my vampire smile.