really, really want to be pregnant, which seemed to create a form of subconscious feedback that made the Neo’s immune system stop acting as the ultimate form of birth control. So it wasn’t like she was putting herself at risk. Screw you, brain.
She put her oversized t-shirt on and headed out to the guest restroom, did her business, and brushed her teeth to banish morning breath, just in case Mark felt amorous when he woke up. Which he probably would: Neo stamina had turned out to be a pretty amazing thing. She brushed her hair and felt like bursting into song, something like ‘Age of Aquarius.’ Yeah, that’s the ticket.
Holy crap. Neo sex was as good as vampire sex was supposed to be, and with a lot less bloodletting. They were like little energizer bunnies that just kept going and going. If they hadn’t been exhausted from all the epic battles and near-death experiences and stuff, they wouldn’t have gotten any sleep at all. And after a whole two hours’ sleep, she felt pretty fresh and rested, and ready for Round Two, Round Six if you wanted to get technical. How did Neos get anything done? The temptation to just stay home and boink till the cows came home should be overwhelming.
It had been more than just sex, though. Mark had been… intense but sweet, which probably made her the only person who’d used the word ‘sweet’ to describe Face-Off, stone cold killer and vigilante. No, she decided. Cassandra would have used that word too. The psychic knew the guy behind the no-face, and now so did Christine. The way he felt about her when they made love was like basking in the sun. Empathy-enhanced sex had to be felt to be believed.
So lovey-dovey; you do remember he’s a murderous psychopath, don’t you? Kinda like Dad, come to think of it. She glared at herself in the mirror, at her freaking self-doubting second-guessing brain. She’d had the first good night since she’d hopped on the crazy train to La La Land, the first good night in a long time even before that, and now she was trying to deconstruct it. Why couldn’t she just enjoy the moment?
Well, she had a couple of good reasons why. Things had happened way too fast. She’d met Mark on Wednesday and ended up in bed with him on Thursday night, early Friday if you wanted to get all technical. Sure, it had been a pretty intense couple of days, but that still was way fast. Her roommate and sort-of-BFF Sophie would be all proud of her for jumping a guy’s bones on short acquaintance, but that wasn’t how Christine rolled. She wanted to get to know a guy, really feel like there was a connection, before going to the next level. Of course, the two times she’d thought she had a connection with a guy, she’d ended up with an a-hole and a d-bag, so her modus operandi had a lousy track record.
And she did know Mark. Thanks to her super-empathy, she knew a lot about him. On the other hand, thanks to her super-empathy, she wasn’t sure how much of what she was feeling came from her and how much had been Mark’s emotions sweeping her off her feet. His feelings for her were pretty darn intense, but she didn’t know exactly what she felt for him. She liked him, definitely. Liked him a lot, even. But did she feel like he felt? Reply hazy, ask again later. She could feel his happiness as he slept, radiating from the bedroom like pulses of light, and it made her happy to feel it. The whole thing was confusing the heck out of her.
Told ya , her brain said.
Go away.
She stepped out into the hallway and ran into Kestrel. The super-slut was wearing a black Victoria’s Secret little number, something made of black satin, dental floss and fishnets, along with stiletto heels she had probably worn in bed.
“Had a good night?” Kestrel asked, stepping closer, right into Christine’s personal space. “It sure sounded like you did. I never figured you for a screamer.”
Christine felt herself blush with embarrassment – and anger. “Do you ever turn off
She put her oversized t-shirt on and headed out to the guest restroom, did her business, and brushed her teeth to banish morning breath, just in case Mark felt amorous when he woke up. Which he probably would: Neo stamina had turned out to be a pretty amazing thing. She brushed her hair and felt like bursting into song, something like ‘Age of Aquarius.’ Yeah, that’s the ticket.
Holy crap. Neo sex was as good as vampire sex was supposed to be, and with a lot less bloodletting. They were like little energizer bunnies that just kept going and going. If they hadn’t been exhausted from all the epic battles and near-death experiences and stuff, they wouldn’t have gotten any sleep at all. And after a whole two hours’ sleep, she felt pretty fresh and rested, and ready for Round Two, Round Six if you wanted to get technical. How did Neos get anything done? The temptation to just stay home and boink till the cows came home should be overwhelming.
It had been more than just sex, though. Mark had been… intense but sweet, which probably made her the only person who’d used the word ‘sweet’ to describe Face-Off, stone cold killer and vigilante. No, she decided. Cassandra would have used that word too. The psychic knew the guy behind the no-face, and now so did Christine. The way he felt about her when they made love was like basking in the sun. Empathy-enhanced sex had to be felt to be believed.
So lovey-dovey; you do remember he’s a murderous psychopath, don’t you? Kinda like Dad, come to think of it. She glared at herself in the mirror, at her freaking self-doubting second-guessing brain. She’d had the first good night since she’d hopped on the crazy train to La La Land, the first good night in a long time even before that, and now she was trying to deconstruct it. Why couldn’t she just enjoy the moment?
Well, she had a couple of good reasons why. Things had happened way too fast. She’d met Mark on Wednesday and ended up in bed with him on Thursday night, early Friday if you wanted to get all technical. Sure, it had been a pretty intense couple of days, but that still was way fast. Her roommate and sort-of-BFF Sophie would be all proud of her for jumping a guy’s bones on short acquaintance, but that wasn’t how Christine rolled. She wanted to get to know a guy, really feel like there was a connection, before going to the next level. Of course, the two times she’d thought she had a connection with a guy, she’d ended up with an a-hole and a d-bag, so her modus operandi had a lousy track record.
And she did know Mark. Thanks to her super-empathy, she knew a lot about him. On the other hand, thanks to her super-empathy, she wasn’t sure how much of what she was feeling came from her and how much had been Mark’s emotions sweeping her off her feet. His feelings for her were pretty darn intense, but she didn’t know exactly what she felt for him. She liked him, definitely. Liked him a lot, even. But did she feel like he felt? Reply hazy, ask again later. She could feel his happiness as he slept, radiating from the bedroom like pulses of light, and it made her happy to feel it. The whole thing was confusing the heck out of her.
Told ya , her brain said.
Go away.
She stepped out into the hallway and ran into Kestrel. The super-slut was wearing a black Victoria’s Secret little number, something made of black satin, dental floss and fishnets, along with stiletto heels she had probably worn in bed.
“Had a good night?” Kestrel asked, stepping closer, right into Christine’s personal space. “It sure sounded like you did. I never figured you for a screamer.”
Christine felt herself blush with embarrassment – and anger. “Do you ever turn off
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