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Gorgeous. Fucking gorgeous.
Of course, Kitten wouldn't talk to me the entire way back to the cave, and that was before she'd seen the outfits I'd bought her.
I'd had a right good time, more fun than I'd could remember in fact, shopping for her. Shiny silver dresses, slinky green numbers, jewelry (some of it real but I'd swear to her it was just fashion) even brassieres I knew would make her cleavage even more fantastic than it already was. Boots that would curve to her calves with heels that would make her legs look miles long. Oh, the images that went through my head, shopping for her that day...
I even got to indulge in a bit of fantasy. Whenever I'd go to pay for an item, a salesgirl would be giving me the eye, and ask, "Shopping for your girlfriend?" hoping like hell I was shopping for my sister. I'd barely even give them a glance as I handed over my credit card and answer, "No, my wife."
You see, I'd figured out what that burning feeling was when I thought of Kitten with another man - jealousy. The fact that I'd never been jealous before was clue number one. Then came the fact that she was my match, in every way - she never backed down from any fight, even one she might be outclassed in. Add in the fact that she was gorgeous, and well, I'd pretty much figured out I was in love. And, as I'd never in all my years been in love, I wanted to make this woman mine, in every way - I wanted to marry her. She wasn't exactly on board with the program yet, but, as I said, I never backed down from any fight, and this one I thought I could win.
But back to the present - picking her up after her day at the salon. I'd dropped her off in jeans and a t-shirt, no makeup, hair tied back into a messy bun. The sight that greeted me was a completely new woman - plucked eyebrows, hair trimmed and curled, makeup artfully applied, nails carefully manicured.
After we got back to the cave and I gave her the bag of clothes, she stomped off to one of the cave's little nooks to change. She came out dressed in the slinky green number and with it came that red headed temper.
"There is no way I'm going out in public like this!"
"You look smashing. Can't hardly stop myself from ripping your clothes off."
"You think this is funny, don't you? This is all a big…bloody chuckle-fest to you!"
I sprang forward. "This isn't a joke, but it is a game. Winner takes all. You need every advantage you can get. If some poor undead fellow is busy looking at these"—I tried for a peek before getting my hand slapped away—"then he won't be looking for this." I pressed a stake up against her stomach.
"Is that a stake, Bones, or are you just happy with my new dress?"
I gave her a sly grin. "In this case, it's a stake. You could always feel around for something more, though. See what comes up."
"This better be part of that dirty-talk training, or we're going to give this new stake a go."
"Now, pet, that's hardly a romantic rejoinder. Concentrate! You do look great, by the way. That bra does wonders for your cleavage."
"Slime," she spat. As I said, not quite on board with the whole marriage idea yet.
"Moving on, Kitten. Put the stake in your boot. You'll find there's a loop for it. Put your other one away as well."
"That loop was a great idea, Bones." Hmmm, a compliment. A start.
"Done it myself a time or two. Hmmm, still something not right, something missing…." I walked in a circle around her. She held still as I enjoyed scrutinizing her every angle. Time for a bit of fun...
"I've got it!" I snapped my fingers. "Take your knickers off."
"What?"
"Your knickers. You know—panties, underwear, muff-huggers, nasty nets—"
"Are you out of your mind? This is where I draw the line! What does my underwear have to do with anything? I am not flashing my…my crotch at someone, no matter what you say!"
I held out my hands in a gesture of peace. "Look, you don't have to flash anyone anything. Believe me, a vampire will know right off without you showing him that your box is unwrapped."
"And just how's he supposed to know that? No panty lines?"
"The scent, pet," I said instantly. That did it. Her face looked like a tomato about to explode. "No vamp in the world could mistake that. Like dangling bloomin' catnip in front of a kitty. Bloke gets a good whiff of—"
"Will you stop? I get the picture! Stop drawing it, okay? God, but you are—are…profane!"
I inwardly laughed at her outrage, and at her choice of words. If she thought that was profane, she should hear me when I really get mad. Her head might explode.
"I hardly see how that's necessary. You've got me dressed in these screw-me clothes, I'm all dolled up with hair and makeup, and I'm going to burn their ears off with dirty talk. If that isn't enough to get them to take me for a ride, then I think it's hopeless."
I stood utterly still, thinking, trying to come up with a way to get her to buy this without going too over the top.
"It's like this, luv," I finally responded. "You look right fetching now with your new togs, but suppose a fellow prefers blondes? Or brunettes? Or likes 'em with a little more meat on the arse? These aren't greenhorns looking for the first available artery. These are Master vampires with discriminating tastes. We might need something to tip the scales, as it were. Think of it as…advertising. Is it really that difficult for you? You know, with a vampire's natural sense of smell, it's not like he can't sniff you out in the first place. Blimey, I can tell right off when you've got your monthlies, knickers or no knickers. Some things you just—"
"All right!" I could see her trying desperately to get her temper under control. I wondered in the back of my mind if it was possible to have an aneurysm at 22, because if so, she was a definite candidate for one. "I get your point. Fine, I'll do it, when we go out on Friday. Not before. I'm not negotiating on this one."
"Whatever you say," I said peaceably. "Now, then, let's get on to the nasty speak."
