Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Twilight.
Summary: I wanted the blood, I needed it. I had to have it. The venom was leaving my mouth though, drying up, as I stared at her, and she stared back. "Do you need some help?" She stared for a moment longer before answering."Y-yes."
Author's Note: Surprise! So, I've decided to kind-of continue this. Meaning that it will be updated sporadically and with absolutely no promises. It'll remain marked as complete, because I may leave it here, or I may add more, again- absolutely no promises. Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews/favorites and such that the original one-shot generated. This is self edited, so please be gentle with the grammar-stick-of-punishment.
Also! This has a few graphics, for the original o/s and for this new installment made by yours truly. Links are on my profile.
Warning: This is M-M-M-MATURE.
Pagan Angel and a Borrowed Car
We were south, in Louisiana, to be exact, nearing Shreveport. What in the hell we were doing in Louisiana in late August was beyond me- even though it was (naturally) late at night, I was still pouring sweat like a faucet, the cotton fabric of my thin, loose tank top clinging to me. I was pressed up close against Peter, trying to cool myself off- it was an odd sensation, my front was chilly cold, while sweat dripped down my back. I'd gone bra-less, and, according to the girls, the turkey's were done.
I'd been on the road with Peter since mid-June, a little over two months now. The trip had been... interesting, to say the least. Mostly made up of my annoying Peter, and Peter tolerating me, while trying not to eat me. Life's an adventure, I guess.
"No, Bella, I do not think that Eric Northman is real. And no, there is no secret vampire hierarchy, at least not in the United States."
"Yes, but are you telling me the truth? If it was a secret, you couldn't just go around telling people willy-nilly, could you?"
"I don't normally tell people anything. You're the only people I talk to."
"Can we at least go and look?"
A weary sigh floated back to me. "No, we're not stopping to see if we can find Fangtasia."
"Because it's a ridiculous suggestion."
"If you don't shut up, I'm buying a side car, and I will make your ass ride in it."
Swampy foliage flew by at an alarming pace, and even my eyes could see the flashing of nocturnal eyes inside the barrier of the trees. My arms were wrapped around Peter's firm stomach, and I rested my head between his shoulder blades, and I knew that within a half an hour, I'd have a head ache from the cold. I compared it to an ice cream headache, something Peter found amusing.
The air here was dense. It felt almost like we were carving a path with the nose of Peter's motorcycle, leaving ripples in our wake. I loved Louisiana, though, so far at least.
"We should come back here in the fall sometime, when it's not so freaking hot," I said to Peter, my words muffled against his t-shirt, though I knew he could hear me perfectly. He just grunted in response, and I sighed.
I knew that Peter was just waiting for me to come to my senses and ditch him. For the first few weeks we were on the road together, he'd expected it to happen at any given moment.. By now, he'd caught on that I was sticking around for a little while, he just wasn't sure how long.
The sky was getting lighter, the sun not yet peeking, but not too far off. We'd find a place to stop soon, and I'd sleep and Peter would pace and fiddle around the hotel room, waiting for dark to fall again. I knew that he'd go out tonight- it'd been a few weeks since he'd fed, and he didn't like to push his luck. The night was silent around us, the only sounds cutting through were the vehicle's on the highway, and then it was only us and a few others. Even the bugs went still and quiet when Peter and I would drive by.
The loud blast of an air horn cut through my peaceful thoughts, and I looked around to see a big right semi passing us on the right in the four-lane highway , and I rolled my eyes when I saw the driver leering down at me. I felt more than heard Peter growl low in his chest- we'd run into this a few times before, and normally they'd give up, but this loser was keeping steady next to us, blowing his horn intermittently. With a sigh, and another roll of my eyes, I twisted slightly and simultaneously flashed the girls and flipped him the bird. Peter gave an aggravated huff and with a roar of the engine, flew around the big rig, cutting in front of him.
Two months. Two long, long months of that hypnotic scent, of glimpses of flesh, of seemingly innocent touches. It was making my already fragile mind crack. I wasn't sure how much longer I could take it. Physical desire was something that I hadn't felt in decades- I wasn't ashamed to admit that Charlotte had been the last woman I'd been with, and she'd left me sometime in the seventies. She'd gotten really into the disco scene, and had run off with some human named Tony Montana something-or-other. Guy was big in the drug world, apparently, and was loaded with money, something I'd never bothered much with.
Bella was wrapped tightly around me on the back of the bike, every inch of her front pressed into my back, radiating warmth through me. I could smell the tang of the sweat that dripped from her pores. She had her hair pulled back into a low tail that was draped over one shoulder, the wind catching errant, fragrant strands to brush against my arm. My body was stirring in the south when she shifted and her soft breasts rubbed against my back, and I forced myself to think about how it was even possible for me to even get an erection before I could become anymore aroused. I just didn't understand the mechanics of it. I had no blood flow, so how could I get a hard on? Yet there he was, rising straight and proud in my jeans, a fact I was trying to hide from Bella whose hands were clasped low on my waist.
We needed to find some place to stop, and soon. Bella could go to bed, and I could spend some lonely quality time with myself in the shower.
Yet another roadside no-tell motel, and I just hoped that Peter didn't eat the desk man again. Wouldn't want that to form into a bad habit. We trouped into the office and Peter paid for the room with cash again. I wasn't sure where he got the money for the motels, but I had a suspicion that the people he hunted provided him with more than life sustenance. He'd signed the register Aaron Stampler and I was convinced that he had a man crush on Edward Norton, though he'd never admit it.
Our room was bland and generic, with oatmeal colored carpeting, dull floral bedspreads on the beds and a few boring prints thrown up on the walls. I claimed my bed, and after a quick trip into the bathroom to change into my sleep shirt, I climbed in, exhausted. I needed a shower, but it would have to wait until later on tonight. Peter was quick to retreat into the bathroom mumbling something about a shower, and I smirked, well aware of the reason behind said shower.
We'd been dancing around the sexual attraction that was between us, with Peter avoiding it at nearly all costs. I was just about fed up with the whole game. We wanted each other, that much was clear from the way my heart would speed up when he would touch me, or the way he would subtly lean into me whenever I would touch him. I wasn't a virgin (a nice paranoid schizophrenic with a side order of satyriasis at Shady Acres had taken care of that little problem for me) , so all of the hesitation was on Peter's part. My human drinker was an awkward little vampire, and I found myself wondering, not for the first time, when the last time he'd had sex was.
The shower started in the bathroom, and I heard the shing of metal against metal as the shower curtain was pulled closed. I closed my eyes and did some deep breathing- I was thinking of Peter in there, naked, under the shower spray, hair wet and dripping, his... I checked my face for drool.
That's it... I was up and out of bed before I gave myself time for second thought. My night shirt hit the ground, followed by my panties, and I crossed the room and pulled the bathroom door open. It was all cheap chrome and white fixtures, and I could see Peter's shadow behind the flimsy white shower curtain. I slipped into the shower behind him, and he whirled around faster than my eyes could follow. He was wide-eyed, dick in hand, and I momentarily wondered if I'd actually been able to sneak up on him.
It was the first time I'd ever seen Peter anything but fully clothed, and the tattoos across his chest and curling around his upper bicep gave me pause. The one on his chest, across his left pectoral was faded, the ink likely seeping out over time. It looked like a name, but I couldn't make out what was spelled. He was still staring at me, and I stepped closer to him, pressing myself against him, leaning up to run my hands across his shoulders.
And then I kissed him, and he was frozen still, and my confidence was waning as he stood there motionless. I pulled away, and stood back, looking at him, suddenly slightly mortified. Had I been wrong? Had it just been pure awkwardness on his part? I stepped back, ready to tuck tail and run back to the safety of my bed, when Peter's arms flashed suddenly, and I was pressed against the shower wall, and he was kissing me with bruising urgency.
Every inch of him was pressed against every inch of me and I felt him hard against my stomach. Peter's hands were framing my face, holding me almost a little too tightly. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and my hands slid up his back, hot water pounding down on us from the shower head. I was getting light headed from lack of air, and Peter must have remembered that I needed to breath because he pulled his mouth away from mine. There was no break as his lips fell to my neck, and my heart leaped as I remembered the last time his lips had been there. His hands were at my sides and he was lifting me up and I was wrapping my legs around his waist, the cold tile biting into my back. My head fell back, my arms around his shoulders as he moved his attention from my neck down to my breasts. He was cupping them, pushing them up, laving his tongue over one nipple, and then the other.
My one and only time with Benny the schizo had been rushed, and not entirely pleasurable; but this, jesus this was something completely different. I felt like I was on fire, I was burning from the inside out, and Peter was fanning the flame, only making it grow higher and brighter. My hand found his hair, darkened by the wet, and pulled, pulling his head back up to me so that I could kiss him again. His lips were cold and full and perfect against mine as he kissed me hard enough for our teeth to click. Hands were gripping my hips and he was pressing against me, the friction wonderful, and then his fingers were there, feeling and testing.
"I can't wait." Peter's voice was gruff against my neck. "Waited too long already. Need you now." His words were choppy, practically growled and it sent waves of excitement through me.
"Oh, God, yes."
Then he was kissing me again and pushing inside, and I was being stretched, nearly to my limits. Peter groaned loudly, muttering so lowly I could only pick up a few words, like "tight", "heat",and "holy fuck." He was thrusting and I was moaning so wantonly I should have been ashamed but couldn't spare the thought to care. Peter was gripping my hips a little too tightly and I knew that it would bruise, but we were both too caught up in the feeling.
It didn't take long for either of us. I was crying out my release, gripping his hair, pulling so hard it probably would have hurt had he been human. Peter pulled out of me suddenly, and I looked down just as he climaxed, his... venom? whatever it was landing on my stomach, dripping down. I glanced up at him, and he just shrugged.
"I didn't know what it would do to you," he said, then leaned in to kiss me again, this time a little softer. He sat me down, and I moved under the now tepid spray to rinse myself off. Peter reached around me and turned the water off, then took my hand and lead me out of the shower and out of the bathroom, into the bedroom where we fell onto the nearest bed, immediately soaking the sheets.
Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep that day.
I did manage to squeeze in about an hour of rest, and I woke up to Peter kissing the soft skin of my stomach, skimming the finger-shaped bruises on my hips and thighs. The sheets were dried stiff under us, and my hair was a snarled mess from letting it air dry. That and Peter seemed to have a tendency to pull hair during doggy style. I reached down and ran my fingers through his short hair, and he looked up at me briefly before returning to his previous activity.
"Do they hurt?" he asked.
"A little," I admitted.
"Why on earth are you sorry?"
"I hurt you."
"Don't be an idiot. It was amazing."
He flashed me a small smile, gave my belly button a final kiss, then wormed his way up the bed, settling next to me.
"I have to leave to feed soon."
Peter put his arms around me and I rested my head on his cold chest.
"I need to take a proper shower anyway," I told him, looking up at him with a smile. He kissed me lightly, then, with a sigh, got out of bed, moving to where his pack lay on the other bed in the room. Peter was dressed in a flash, his normal uniform of ripped jeans and a t-shirt, this time Metallica. I watched him as he pulled his boots on, propping myself on my elbow, not bothering to cover myself when the sheet feel away from my chest.
It was full night, the yellow moon a small crescent in the sky. Light of passing cars flashed through the window of the room. The bed dipped as Peter kneeled on it, leaning down to kiss me again.
"I'll be back soon."
"Okay. Have... fun?" I never knew what to say to him when he left to feed.
Peter snorted. "Yeah, thanks. Get some more sleep while I'm gone."
"I planned on it."
Then with a brief stroke of his fingers down my neck, he was out the door and gone.
Shreveport was big enough for me to hunt without attracting suspicion, and I'd found this hapless drunk quick enough. I was starving, draining the man with a vigor that surprised even me. His blood was thick and heady, gushing down my throat as I clung his weakening body to me. I felt great, better than I had in years, and I knew that it was because of her.
After disposing of the drained corpse in a near-by dumpster, which caught fire just a few moments later, I hopped on the bike and started to head back the hotel, but paused, thinking that I should bring Bella something to eat too. I changed my direction, driving to a fast food restaurant I'd noticed that she liked that I'd seen on my way to the bar.
I parked the bike and slipped my sunglasses on to hide my eyes and headed inside, the ungodly stench of the restaurant making my nostrils flare. Bella's repugnant food was delivered to me by an equally repelling human woman who smiled at me coquettishly. My sneer made her shrink back, and I snatched the paper bag from her hand, then turned on my heal and left as quickly as I could, heading back to Bella.
Author's Note: Did it live up? Or was it a let down? Let me know! Voice all of those wonderful thoughts swarming around in your mind like thousands of bees stinging at your frontal lobe!
Take care, and much love!