Free Honeymoon Bite (Golden Vampire Legacy) by Sharon Hamilton

She loved the green bomber and how positively ageless and invincible she was. She counted all the cars on her first pass, then did another pass and separated out the sedans and SUVs. On her third run, she counted all the red cars, then 4-wheel drive vehicles. She had a list in her mind of the other things she could count, like the number of whitewall tires, cars with sunroofs, dirty cars, top ten cleanest cars. But then she saw the man she’d met the day before drive in. He was a full five minutes and thirty-seven seconds early.
    It was hard to miss his black Ferrari as it roared into the parking lot. She memorized the sleek vehicle’s very detail. She noticed things more than ever before, ever since the turning. The change her body created a compulsive need to count things, just for fun, but especially when she was hungry.
    And she’d come hungry.
    The man parked the low-lying vehicle and somehow extricated himself from the driver’s side. Anne thought he must have been almost supine while driving the beast. A nice, classy beast, though. Like the driver. Dark-haired men with nice cars were becoming a lethal combination, usually for the man. She wet her lips as her pelvic muscles tensed.
    Anne was weighing how it would feel to feed on him when he spun around and pointed to a parking space beside his and smiled.
    Let the games begin.
    She aimed her old green bomber three spaces away and parked. He was there by her door as soon as she had collected her keys and her purse. He opened the door for her. That was kind of a nice touch. There were so few men who knew how to be polite these days. Too bad.
    He held her left hand, helping her slide off the light brown fabric of the front seat. The old tank was so high, Anne’s small frame had to drop the remaining six inches or so until her feet settled on the ground, barely touching his. Her right knee nudged his left thigh as she slid, initiating a buzz that traveled up her spine. She balanced on his hand like a bird perched on a golden bar. His firm grip kept her steady while he looked over her shoulder and scanned the sleek lines of the vintage car.
    “I like your vehicle,” he said, still holding her fingers.
    “My . . . husb—soon to be ex-husband’s, actually. A ‘48 Olds fastback.”
    The man released her, stroked the backside of the forest green metal like he was caressing a lover.
    You’re in trouble if you don’t stop this. Everything he did reminded her of some sexual play.
    “Gets terrible gas mileage and it smokes,” she added.
    “Ah, but makes quite a statement, doesn’t it?”
    Anne shrugged, but she had to admit, that’s one of the reasons she liked driving the Olds.
    He was still admiring her Olds. “I like old things. And I love cars.” His eyes sparkled as he looked down to her. He completely blocked the sun.
    Anne peered around his massive frame and nodded to his black Ferrari. “You like fast cars. How many vintage cars do you have?” she asked, sure he didn’t own one like the Olds.
    “Fifty-nine.” He smirked and added, “but not a single Oldsmobile. You must take me for a ride in it sometime.”
    She wasn’t sure where this was heading, so she shrugged again. It was Robert’s legendary car, the one he nailed all his girlfriends in on their first date. Unfortunately, she learned this after she’d been conquest number one hundred and something. But for now, it was hers, since Robert had given the Olds to her as an engagement present. And though Anne knew her relationship with Robert was at an end, she felt she deserved it after what he had put her through. She could understand why a guy would love the roomy back seat. She did too.
    His white long-sleeved collared shirt gaped open at his throat. Hard to miss the thick pulsing vein so large she could almost smell it. It was the size of her little finger. He was making it easy for her, showcasing all the highlights of his body. He seemed to enjoy the luscious look she gave his neck. She