Tequila

We drove down the coast to Newport Beach and rented a sailboat to take us on a lazy cruise from the harbor to the brightly lit cove of Avalon, on Santa Catalina Island. We spent an evening in Balboa, and from the top of the ferris wheel, we linked arms and stared out at the moonlight glistening on the crests of lapping waves. I leaned my head on Eric's muscular shoulder and felt a flutter of joy when his arm slipped around my waist and pulled me close. These are the sorts of vacations you spend your whole life dreaming about. They're the sorts of things you see in movies, but you never expect them to actually happen. I snuggled against my Viking vampire lover and closed my eyes, listening to the melody of crashing water on the beach, children's delighted screams, and the amazing blank void of Eric's unreflecting mind. It was like paradise, but better.

We walked down the dock together, back toward the rented forty-foot cruising yacht, complete with captain, and climbed aboard. Eric's lips dipped down hungrily against my neck and I purred with delight. What was I saying about paradise before? I hadn't even come close to it yet. The Viking lifted me up off the deck and carried me up over the cabin and onto the bow. Fleetingly, I considered how in-his-element Eric might be, aboard a boat. He sank his fangs into my shoulder and I groaned as I caressed his neck with my tongue. My scapulae knocked against the mast as he pinned me to it with his hips. He coaxed his hands up my denim skirt and ripped away the pair of sheer black panties I'd worn especially for tonight. Oh well, should've known better. He was inside me in seconds, and because I was lost in the moment, I dug my fingernails into his skin and dragged them down, leaving clear red marks that took only a moment to fade. I dug even harder, deeper, like an animal in heat. His hips smashed into mine like storm waves crashing into the hull. It didn't take more than another try to draw blood, the sweet elixir that rushed through his cold veins. I lifted my eyes to catch his, dark and deep blue in their passion, and I licked the drops of blood from his skin, from my fingertips. He moaned as he watched me.

We weren't finished after one round on the bow, and Eric carried me below, my thighs wrapped securely around his hips. The aft cabin bed was surprisingly large and beautiful and cozy for a bed on a boat. Someone had lit candles throughout the room and I marveled in the way the light mixed with the shadows of moonlit water captured on the ceiling. I removed what was left of his clothing, a pair of dark denim jeans, unbuttoned, the belt lost somewhere. Eric lifted off my pretty red silk top, unclasped the sheer black bra. His hungry mouth found my breast and he suckled at the teat until I was weeping with the intensity. His loose hair draped over me like curtains and tickled my bare stomach.

"You taste like the California sun, lover," Eric growled so deeply that when his chest rumbled, I rumbled with it.

"You taste like my blood," I grinned at him, licking my lips suggestively. I needn't have been so coy and flirtatious. He knew what I wanted. I knew what he wanted. Still, sometimes it's nice to pretend.

"Mm, do you like that?" He asked me as if he didn't know. I giggled, as bashfully as I could manage, and turned my eyes away from his, just for a moment.

"Maybe," I replied.

I awakened in the morning beside my comatose lover, happy to see that the portholes had been covered with thick shades, and the candles burned out. I wiggled out of Eric's arm and brushed his cheek with my lips. The second best thing about California, coming in place behind the amazing sex, was the opportunity for tanning. I put on a little bit of low SPF sunscreen, so that I could get the full effect, and then dressed in the Jean Paul Gautier designer bikini Eric had bought me in Beverly Hills. He said it wasn't about how much it cost ($300!), but about how it looked on me (which, I must say, is fabulous). It had a jungle print of palm fronds in bright green and teal. I looked at myself in the mirror, danced around in front of it, and grinned. Too bad Eric sleeps through the day. That's all I have to say!

I took a towel from the bathroom, grabbed my book and my headphones, and set the whole caboodle together on the galley table. Then, I made myself some breakfast. The captain, who was also the only thing we had that was remotely close to a cook, bartender, and general servant type person (not that I need that kind of thing, mind you), had left bananas and sliced mango and honeydew and strawberries out for a light and refreshing morning meal. I was almost giddy, and I gorged myself on fruit, finishing it off with a light and tasty cup of Kona dark roast coffee. Finally ready to step out into the morning, I grabbed my bundle of towel, book, and music, and went up the steps to the deck.

We were cruising along, hardly at racing speed, which was exactly what Eric wanted. I waved to the captain, Andrew, who complimented me on my bikini with a close-lipped smile and a nod of his head. Obviously he'd worked with vampires and their girlfriends before. I beamed at him and walked out to the bow. I spread out my towel and sat down cross-legged. The sun was high in the sky and the main sail wasn't going to block my view of it at all. I put on my headphones and closed my eyes so I could mellow out to the soothing sounds of The Beach soundtrack. Okay, I know, the movie was terrible, but have you ever listened to the music? It always, always reminds me of summer and the ocean and the beach and I just love it. So that's what I listen to! Don't judge me.

I opened my book, a ratty copy of Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, and positioned it over my face so my nose and cheeks wouldn't get burnt. It's a good thing that the sound of crashing waves covered up the sound of my singing and humming, that's all I have to say. I can bet you that Captain Andrew had no desire to listen to my screeching. I bobbed my feet in time with the music and rolled my shoulders in a sort of half-assed dance. I had a great time, just feeling the hot sun on my skin. At one point, I sat up to watch dolphins coasting along the bowsprit. That was pretty cool. Too bad my vampire boyfriend was missing it. Oh well. I'm sure they do the same thing at night. I leaned over the bow as far as I dared and tried to reach out to them.

Around two, I fell asleep on the clean white bow, on my white towel, and I must have fallen asleep. I distinctly remember dreaming about Eric telling me to step up on the rungs of the bowsprit, my arms outstretched. I was flying, like Kate Winslet in Titanic, and Eric's braided hair was flying out behind him. It sounds goofy, but don't tell me you never had that fantasy. Before I met Eric, I definitely put Leo DiCaprio in that dream, but Leo just doesn't compare to a Viking, no matter how cute or famous he is. I'm sure Leo understands. Well, maybe he understands.

I woke up a few hours later and pried my eyes open. I couldn't move. Everything was hot, blasting hot, Hellishly hot. I sat up slowly and instantly regretted it. There were actual tears in my eyes. I let them roll down my cheeks and drip onto my crispy red clavicles. Reluctantly, I pressed my fingertip against the bright red skin of my stomach. It left a circle of white that quickly went red again. I'd gone from Sookie Stackhouse, waitress, telepath, lover of Viking to Sookie Stackhouse, lobster. And oh god was I in pain.

The soft terrycloth towel felt like sandpaper on my burning, bright red skin, but I wrapped it around myself anyway. I stared at the crisp, cold blue water rushing past the hull with pleading passion. If I jumped in right now, I might get left behind, but damnit, I'd be cooler! Captain Andrew raised his eyebrows at me as I sank down into the cockpit, whimpering like a child.

"Fell asleep in the sun?" He asked.

"Yeah," I groaned.

"There's some aloe in the washroom," he frowned at me.

"Oh," I sighed. Was it a whole vat of aloe? Could I bathe in the stuff?

I looked at the clock over the sofa and saw that it was nearly six o'clock. We'd be at the mooring soon, and then I'd have a few hours to kill before Eric awakened. He wanted to take me to the Casino, a big old ballroom on the shore of Avalon. Then he would want to take me to dinner, maybe drinks, maybe walk down the beach and look at the stars, maybe fuck in the sand. I wanted to do all of those things, but first, I wanted to die. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, felt the rocking of the boat, and the combined sensation made me puke up my breakfast into the toilet bowl. Oh yeah, that's sexy right there. Fried lobster girl is also seasick. Awesome.

Maybe if I just took a nap, tried to sleep off the sick feeling and let the worst of the burn just sorta fade? I sat down on the small sofa and instantly stood up again. Everything was painful. Sitting on the sofa cushions felt like rubbing my buttocks on unvarnished, splintered wood. I stood in the middle of the room and held onto the table for support. Aloe! I'd forgotten about the aloe! If I just slathered it on, maybe then I could sit down and relax a little! I bolted for the bathroom again. It smelled like very fruity vomit.

I rummaged around in the cabinet under the sink and found an unopened bottle of green jelly. Vaguely, I wondered why they colored aloe anyway. I mean, rubbing green jelly on yourself isn't any better than, say, colorless jelly. I'm sure aloe vera does NOT come out of the plant looking like this stuff. I mean, it really looks exactly like some kind of green Jello smashed into a plastic bottle and scented like very bland mint. No matter. I squeezed far too much of it into my hand and rubbed it slowly onto my cherry red abdomen. Just touching the skin was painful and the aloe didn't seem to soothe the burn at all. I wiped the rest of the slime off on a towel. So not working.

Frustrated, hot, tired, and still green around the gills, I went back into the galley and stood in the middle of the cabin, staring at the clock. It was now six thirty. Great. Sunset wasn't until eight o'clock, so I had an hour and a half to kill before my vampire woke up to laugh at me. Maybe his blood could help with this…this…disaster? But damnit, I'd just had a taste of him last night and it had obviously done nothing to combat my issues. Okay, so one thing vampire blood can't cure? Sunburn. Makes sense if you think about it. Vampires can't be in the sun, so why would vampire blood cure an ailment caused by the sun? On the other hand, it seemed really silly to be relying so heavily on my Viking and his limitless supply of healing blood. I'm an independent woman! Except I was an independent woman in an incredible amount of pain. And hey, don't tell me that you don't get all dependent and mopey when you're in pain! It's just how life is, you know? You need someone to take care of you when you're sick. And darnit, I was definitely very sick. Sick in the head.

I stared at the clock again. Six thirty-two. Excellent. I tried to sit back down on the sofa again. It felt like gravel poking into my burnt backside, but I sat anyway. I shut my eyes. I tried to sleep, sitting up, so that the rest of my crispy skin wouldn't touch any other surfaces. It was pretty much the most miserable hour and a half of my life. On the deck, I heard Captain Andrew talking to someone. The sailboat stopped moving and I felt even more seasick, listening to the waves lapping against the hull and rocking us slowly from side to side. Eric began to move around in the aft cabin, and the door opened. He stumbled out, probably hunching because of the low ceiling, and walked into the main cabin. He looked down at me. I could feel his deep blue eyes on my skin.

"What the hell happened to you?" He burst out all of a sudden. I opened up my eyes, which were already watery. If he even thought about making fun of me, I was going to kick him in the shins.

"What the hell does it look like, smart ass? I got sunburned." I narrowed my eyes at him and stood up.

"You're in pain," he frowned. Through our blood bond, I could feel him suppress the urge to point his finger and laugh at me. Instead, he stepped toward me. I stood up gracelessly and wobbled off to the left as the boat slid in that direction.

"Yes. Pain. That is definitely what I'm feeling."

"I can't take you to the shore like this, lover." He moved to touch me but I shrank away. Boy, if it hurt to touch myself, I couldn't even imagine what it would be like if Eric touched me.

"Boy, you're observant," I grunted sarcastically.

"Have you taken anything?"

"Like what?"

"Well, I don't know. I've never had sunburn before. What cures it?" He looked sort of confused, cocking his head to one side. He had a point.

"Aloe, I guess, but it hurts too much to put it on." I sighed and gestured to the gooey glaze of aloe still on my belly.

"Perhaps if we get you drunk first," Eric suggested. He turned on his heel and went to the galley to look through the cabinets. Captain Andrew was a smart man. He'd stocked the kitchen with every kind of top shelf alcohol. Eric held up bottles of Jose Cuervo and Bacardi Rum. I passed on the rum. It makes me sick and I was already sick enough. I pointed to the tequila.

"Best to drink it straight, I think." Eric grabbed two shot glasses out of the cabinet. "It will take less time to kick in if we do not water it down."

"Mr. Northman, are you trying to take advantage of me?" I smirked at him.

"Always, lover," he winked and grabbed the aloe from the bathroom.

When he'd gathered up all that we would need for our evening of drunkenness, Eric led me through the galley, through the aft cabin, and out onto the dive platform that sat on the back of the boat. The platform was just big enough to sit on, so he left the drinks and aloe inside the cabin, beside the little door. I put my ankles in the water. It was so cold and refreshing, I just wanted to sink right in to the inky blackness of it. Eric poured me a shot of Jose, then poured another for himself. I rarely saw Eric drink alcohol, but I knew that he could do it. He wouldn't get intoxicated, but he had told me he liked the burning sensation in his throat.

"Cheers," I said, holding up my shot glass. We clinked them together and knocked them back. I gasped at the strength of the liquor. Eric filled my glass again.

"I have a gift for you," Eric murmured. He was looking out at the shore, watching the lights twinkling. He rummaged in his pocket.

"Oh?" I asked, curious. I couldn't tell what he had brought by his emotions alone, but I knew he was feeling sort of mellow and relaxed. It probably wasn't an engagement ring, judging from his emotional state. Not that I wanted one, mind you!

"It should help with your relaxation," he said. He pulled out a small plastic bag and a piece of shaped glass.

"Is that what I think it is?" I blinked and raised both my eyebrows. I definitely needed another shot to handle this. I poured the second shot of tequila down my throat and watched Eric stuff a small piece of green plant material into the bowl of a blown-glass pipe.

"I understand that it has the desired effect on vampires as well as humans. I'm curious to try it. I have never done a human drug before."

"You've lived a thousand years and never smoked pot?" I stared at him, completely shocked. Heck, I've smoked pot before and I live in a tiny town in Northern Louisiana!

"I didn't know it would do anything to me, Sookie. I wasn't going to waste my time on it."

"So who told you that you could get high?"

"A friend of mine in Los Angeles gave me these things when we went through there the other night."

In the darkness, I watched the bowl burn. After Eric took a hit and coughed (and I had no idea how he was inhaling if he didn't actually breathe, but I wasn't really concerned with the how), he handed the pipe to me. I could practically get off from his exhaled smoke alone. It was that powerful, that succulent, that good. I followed up the hit with another shot. I could already feel the throbbing pain fading to a consistent pulse. We each took another hit and stared up at the sky. My head felt both light and heavy at the same time. Eric took one of my hands in his and squeezed green jelly onto my skin. It was so suddenly cold that I moaned.

"If you keep making that noise, I'll have to take advantage of you before you're ready," Eric grinned.

"I can't help it. My skin is so hot and that aloe is so fucking cold." I swore for no reason and felt no urge to take it back. It wasn't an aggressive word now, just an accurate description. The aloe wasn't just cold. It was fucking cold.

"You need more alcohol." Eric mused as he stroked my skin, the aloe a barrier between us.

"Yes," I agreed.

"And more drugs," Eric suggested.

"Yes, that too."

I drifted as he applied more aloe to my skin, brushing his cool mouth against my hot neck. I had gooseflesh and it hurt but at the same time, I couldn't even feel it. I gazed up at the stars and lost track of time. I could feel him and at the same time, Eric wasn't even there. I let my eyes fall shut and the waves lapped against my toes.

"One more shot, and I'll fuck you. I don't care how much it hurts tomorrow." I turned my head in his direction, but I didn't open my eyes. I heard the tequila slosh into the glass. I knocked it back without hesitation.

He picked me up and gently pulled off my bikini. My skin was still burning, but it just didn't matter anymore. We left the cabin door open and let the breeze off the ocean fill the room. His hands were light on my aching flesh, and his mouth, so cool and soft, was tender and passionate simultaneously. For some reason, he was murmuring the words to "Sexual Healing" or maybe they were just playing in my head. I couldn't tell exactly and I guess it didn't really matter. I started singing the words too, and it didn't seem unusual. I was drunk enough, stoned enough, that nothing really mattered but Eric's body against mine. And thank the gods, he was the coldest, softest, sexiest lover I'd ever had.