How to Kiss a Vampire novel · Chapter 6 of 24
Chapter 6: What My Mouth Remembered
I kissed him in my front hall until my back hit the wall and my hands were in the flannel of his shirt.
He tasted like cold air and cedar and something old and sweet.
He kissed.
When I finally came up, my knees were gone and his forehead was against mine.
"Your son is asleep in the next room," Torsten said, rough.
"I know."
"I'll go."
"Don't you dare."
I had my phone out before I knew I was going to.
Berit picked up on the first ring.
"Can you come get Eero," I said. "Now. I'll explain later."
There was a pause.
"Ten minutes," Berit said. "I'll bring the truck."
"You're not going to ask?"
"Honey, I figured," she said, and hung up.
She came in her coat over her nightgown.
She looked at Torsten, who stood in the kitchen.
She looked at me.
Then she looked down at the sleeping boy wrapped in a blanket in her arms.
"Take your time," she said. "Eat something."
Then she was gone, and I was alone with a vampire in my kitchen.
"Where do you want to go," he said.
"Your place."
He closed his eyes, and I watched him decide not to say a thing.
The rooms above Ruud Clocks were up a narrow staircase behind the workshop.
There was a big iron bed under a window covered by a steel shutter.
There was a bookshelf, a lamp with a green shade, and a workbench with a hundred little drawers.
It smelled like him.
I stood in the middle of the floor, and my hands would not stay still.
I had not been with anyone in four years.
Maybe I had been waiting for exactly this man without knowing it.
I turned around and he was right behind me, not touching, with his big hands open at his sides.
"Hanne," he said, and his voice broke on it.
"Bed," I said.
His throat moved.
He sat on the edge of the mattress, and I put my hands on his chest and pushed.
He went down.
I put a knee on either side of his hips and sat on his lap in my work jeans.
I looked down at him.
"You've been on my roof for four years," I said.
"Yes."
"You could have knocked."
"I couldn't."
"I'm going to be so mad at you in the morning."
"I know."
"But right now, shut up."
I pulled his flannel shirt open and buttons flew.
His chest was broad and pale and furred with brown hair, hard as a table, and cold under my palms.
It warmed under my hands, slowly.
"Look at you," I said.
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