Oops, I Bit Our Bachelor by Cyndi Faria


Secrets abound in the Our Bachelor Mansion, a vengeful foe is out for blood, and vampire Isla’s ready to fight to win werewolf Sky’s heart…if another contestant doesn’t run away with it first.

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“Now, back to the other thing I picked up hearing your thoughts,” Isla says. “You know, Sky, we all start out as virgins. I got through it and you will too. When you’re ready. Sky, it’s nothing to rush into.”

Says the vamp who’s two hundred years old and had countless trysts.

She covers her mouth, appalled. “I have not. Really.”

I growl at her intrusion into my speculation, which is more directed at myself. I shouldn’t assume anything about her. In the same breath, how am I keeping anything private from here on out? I don’t necessarily want her snooping around in my thoughts about revenge or my inexperience now that she’s clued me in to her one-way telepathic connection. What does she know about being a virgin at thirty-three?

“Well, kinda a lot. And, I promise, I’ll try to find a way not to spy inside your mind. How about I share whatever pops into my head?” She crunches an ice cube between molars.

I spy her derisively. But that seems fair. I mean, I can’t automatically stop nature. “Ah, okay. That seems forthcoming of you.”

“See, I wasn’t allowed to date in the 1800s without my father or uncle chaperoning my every glance. Then I transitioned from human to vampire when I turned twenty-five. It took me years to find control of my bloodlust. Sexual lust came much later. It’s best to start off slowly. A sideways glance, conversation, brush of fingers…we’re way past those stages. We’ve done things that would never have been heard of unless we were married, and even then… Do you know about the bases? First is….”

Aaaawkward. I am so not having the home-run sex talk with my potential future mate.

“It went something like this… Once you find the hole, which is actually hole number two, but not actually hole number two, which is hole number three. In other words, the correct hole is between number one and number three. It’s super soft, warm, and wet. You insert the tip of your penis there. But don’t expect Mt. Vesuvius to hold back from spouting fire. I mean, once you slip it inside—if you even get that far—the first time for an inexperienced guy is like stepping on a ketchup packet, if you know what I mean. It’s pretty much splat all over before it can be enjoyed… Now, King Edward the VII, he thought he was the bear’s bees…”

Face all screwed up, I have no idea what she’s talking about—volcanos, French fries, or Winnie the Pooh—as she attempts to explain her take on Sex for Dummies. In fact, I want to shove ice picks into my eardrums so I don’t have to hear her recall some other spindly-dicked human poking around for the right hole and then the premature thing making the act even more uncomfortable. I look around the room for a pen…

“What will you do with a pen? Oh, you want to take notes?” She rolls over, searching the night table.

No! My neck tenses and I roll my head, trying to shake out my embarrassment. “I understand biology.”

I thought scaring her would be the problem. Now I’m picturing a whole new situation, with an instructional manual. Nurse Isla to the rescue with too much information. I just want to slip in the lollipop without all the prior trauma of over-thinking the act.

She closes the drawer, her expression one of apology that she didn’t find a pen. “I’m trying to take away your fear. So what if it’s weird and you beast out. You’re not some guy I don’t care about. I mean, I was gonna kill Edward afterwards…. I’m not interested in killing you.”

Suddenly, I wish she would. Like right now.

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