Asher was afraid. I could taste his fear on the back of my tongue. I could swallow it, enjoy the bouquet of it, like a fine wine to whet the appetite.

The fear called to that piece of me that was Richard's beast. It roiled inside me like a cat stretching, exploring the space it was trapped in. A thin growl trickled from my lips.

"Control, ma petite, do not lose it so soon."

It was hard to think, let alone talk. I came to my knees and raised Asher's shirt, my fingers playing along his skin. I wanted to rip his shirt off and put my mouth to that tender skin. But it wasn't sex I was thinking of. Vampires may not feed off each other, but a werewolf will eat a vampire.

I closed my eyes, forced my hands away from his body. "I'm trying, but you know what happens if I push the ardeur off too long."

"The other hungers rise, oui, ma petite. I have not forgotten."

"You can't help control Richard's beast." My voice sounded hoarse.

"Non."

I looked into Asher's wide blue eyes, so afraid, so very afraid, and not of my beast. It helped steady me, but I knew it wouldn't last long, whatever we were going to do had to be done quickly.

"I want to see you nude for the first time without the ardeur riding me, Asher. But there isn't much time." I tried to draw him down onto the bed, but he wouldn't come.

Jean-Claude propped himself up on the pillows and held out his arms, almost the way you'd reach for a baby. He spoke softly in French, but I couldn't catch it all, most of it was a plea to hurry.

Asher crawled onto the bed completely, though every movement was slow, reluctant. He let himself be settled down against Jean-Claude's body, but they were both fully clothed, and the way they were sitting, they could have been in any club. It wasn't so much sexual as comforting.

I looked at the two of them and knew someone was going to have to take off some clothes. Fine. I stripped off my jacket and tossed it to the floor.

Jean-Claude raised eyebrows.

"If we keep going this carefully it'll be dawn and nothing will have changed." I had to slide off the bed to get the skirt off, and left it in a pile with my blouse. The panties and bra were a matched pair, a shiny navy satin. When I'd found them, they had reminded me of the color of Jean-Claude's eyes.

I expected to feel embarrassed standing there in my underwear, but I didn't. Maybe I'd spent too much time around the shape-shifters and their casual nudist policy. Or perhaps, it just didn't seem wrong to be undressed in front of Asher. I don't know, but I didn't question it. I climbed carefully back onto the cerulean silk, so that I didn't slide off again.

"You have truly decided to do this," Asher said, in a voice that was soft, uncertain.

I nodded, as I crawled in my thigh-high hose and high heels across the bed to them. I kept the heels because I knew Jean-Claude liked it, and he'd worn enough boots to bed for me. Turn about can be fair play.

I tapped Asher's ankles, and he opened his legs a little. I crawled between his legs, having to force my body up between his calves, his knees. Jean-Claude's legs on either side of his seemed to hold him tight against me. I was left to worm my way between his thighs, using my hips, my legs, and finally impatient, my hands, to spread him wide before me. It left me, finally, kneeling between his legs, my knees pressed up against him, which was actually a lot less erotic than it sounds, because he was still wearing his pants, and the angle was odd.

I reached for the buttons on his shirt. Asher grabbed my hands. "Slowly, ma cherie."

I raised eyebrows at him. "We don't have time for slow."

He rolled his head back so he could see Jean-Claude. "Is she always this impatient?"

"She begins like an American man, but she does foreplay like she's French."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.

"Let us help you undress, mon ami, and you will not need to ask questions, for you will know."

Asher's hands dropped away from mine, and I unbuttoned his shirt. I did do it quickly, because time was not on our side. I did not want to be in the bed with them when they died at dawn. I was still unnerved when Jean-Claude did it with me, I did not want to see it done in stereo.

Jean-Claude raised Asher up, and between the two of us we peeled the long-sleeved shirt off of his upper body. "I would love to linger on every piece of your body, Asher, but I want to see you nude before dawn. Next time, if we start earlier, we can take our time."

He smiled. "Next time, you have not seen all there is to see, do not promise until you have seen, as they say, the whole show."

I leaned into him, our faces only inches apart. "I don't believe there is anything you could show me that would make me not want you."

"I almost believe that, ma cherie, almost."

I leaned back enough on my knees to cradle his face between my hands. The difference in texture wasn't jarring, it was just part of touching Asher. I kissed him, long, slow, exploring him, softly with my lips. I drew back enough to see his face.

"Believe it." I drew my fingers down the edge of his jaw on either side, tickling nails across the smooth line of his neck, one hand mirroring the other, until I came to his chest. It wasn't hands I wanted to use there.

I kissed along the scarred edge of his collarbone, but the scars made the skin too thick, I had to move to the other side to nibble along his collarbone, to give him that safe edge of teeth.

He shuddered for me.

I moved back to the right side and kissed down until I found his nipple, stranded in all that hardness. I wasn't sure if his nipple had the sensitivity it had had before. There was only one way to find out. I licked his nipple, a quick flick of tongue and felt the skin move, contract. I used my hands to help mound that side of his chest so that I could find a mouthful of him. The scars were harsh to my mouth, but his nipple drew tight under my tongue, my mouth, and lightly, teeth. Only when I'd thoroughly explored the right, did I turn to the left. His left nipple was easier to take into my mouth, easier to tease. I used more teeth, and he groaned as I marked him, lightly, nothing that wouldn't fade within moments.

I licked down the left side of his chest, his stomach, then moved back to the right and explored the scarred flesh as I had the other, because I knew now, that scarred or not, it worked. He could feel my mouth on his skin, my fingers trailing lower. If he could feel then I wanted to give him everything I could.

My mouth came to his waist, the belt, the top of his pants. I licked from one side of his waist to the other, then came back to the right side and licked along the front of his flat stomach, so the tip of my tongue eased inside the very top of his pants, even with the belt.

Asher's voice came breathy, harsh, "You have taught her well."

"I can take little credit for it, mon ami, she enjoys her work."

I rolled eyes up at them. "Please, stop talking about me like I can't understand you."

"Our most sincere apologies," Jean-Claude said.

"Oui," Asher said, "it was not an insult."

"No, but you assume that if I'm any good it has to be because a man taught me. That's so sexist."

"We can only apologize again, ma petite."

I undid the buckle on Asher's belt, and he didn't stop me this time. I got the top fastener undone, but I've never been good at unzipping a man when he's sitting down. I think I'm always a little afraid I'll get him caught in the zipper.

"Some help here," I said.

Jean-Claude lifted, Asher helped, and the zipper came down, revealing that he was wearing royal blue bikinis in silk, what else? There is no way to get real pants off of anyone gracefully. I peeled the pants down Asher's long legs, slipped off the shoes that he was still wearing, there were no socks to bother with. He lay back, cradled against Jean-Claude, wearing nothing but the tiny blue silk undies. I wanted to snatch them away from him. I wanted to see him completely nude, it seemed more important than anything else. To finally see if the scars went all the way across.