Part 9 (1/2)
Chapter Ten.
It wasn't the longest day of my life (which had occurred a few months ago and involved a murderous vampire, a missing Dead End Dating client, and back-to-back Jerry Springer reruns), but it ran a close second.
After I turned in, Ty stretched out on the sofa. My strength drained away as the sun climbed higher outside as, I'm sure, did his.
But unlike the hunky made vamp, I couldn't seem to fall into a rejuvenating sleep. Instead, I spent the next few hours tossing and turning and trying not to glance in Ty's direction. Then yet another hour with my eyes clamped shut, my mind replaying the previous night's events. Add another forty-five minutes counting designers and listening to the steady thump of Ty's pulse. Plus another fifteen narrowing down the list to my top three faves and then yet another hour wis.h.i.+ng the rhythmic thump, thump, thump would move a little closer. (I'm superficial and weak? So sue me.) When I did finally doze off (we're talking early afternoon), it was a restless sleep, a rarity for vampires because we normally sleep like the, well, dead. But we're talking major stress, a set of Ty-scented sheets, and a pair of ruined Rossis (yes, I was still mourning the loss). Seriously, what hormone-deprived, fas.h.i.+on-conscious bloodsucker-or sipper, in my case-could zone out under those circ.u.mstances?
Which was why when I opened my eyes the next evening, I was too tired to breathe, much less rip off my clothes and throw myself shamelessly at Ty Bonner.
He'd pulled back the heavy drapes to reveal the floor to ceiling windows. A faint orange glow outlined the surrounding buildings.
The faint shadow of the moon was already visible despite the fact that it was just this side of sunset. Dusk crowded into the ma.s.sive room.
My gaze cut through the shadows to the man who stood on the far side of the room in the middle of the kitchen area. He still wore only jeans, but they were black this time. The denim outlined his muscular legs and cupped his (big swallow) ahem, package. Dark, silky hair sprinkled his broad chest from nipple to nipple before narrowing to a fine line that bisected his six- pack abs and disappeared into his low-slung waistband. He'd obviously just stepped from the shower because a few drops of water still clung to his shoulders. He'd combed his wet hair back away from his chiseled face. His bluer-than-blue gaze twinkled when it collided with mine.
Okay, so I wasn't that tired.
His sensuous mouth crooked into a grin as he held up what looked like a wine bottle and motioned me over.
I wasn't going. That's what I told myself. Then again, who was I kidding? I was this close to a majorly hot babe who wanted me even closer. Even more, I needed sustenance, which wasn't a possibility if I barricaded myself in the bathroom to escape temptation and repair the damage that several hours of bed wrestling had wrought on my hair.
I threw my legs over the side of the bed and forced my feet toward the kitchen.
Previous Top Next”Want some?” he asked as I walked up next to him.
I swallowed. ”More than you'll ever know.”
He grinned and held up the bottle-an imported blood type from Garnier's, an upscale, vampire owned and operated deli on the West Side. ”I was talking about a drink.”
”So, um, was I.”
His grin widened. ”Liar.” The deep voice resonated in my head.
I frowned. ”That's not funny.”
”What?”
”You know what.”
”I don't know what you're talking about.” He feigned innocence and turned to retrieve a gla.s.s from a nearby cabinet.
Okay, so maybe I could hear him and he didn't know I could hear him. Please, please, please.
”Sorry, sugar. No dice.”
My frown deepened. ”You're really annoying, you know that?”
He winked. ”The feeling's mutual. So you like yours warm or cold?”
”Warm, please. What about you?”
His grin was slow and oh-so heartstopping. ”I'll take it anyway I can get it, darlin'.”
He uncorked the bottle, poured a gla.s.s, and then turned to nuke it in a nearby microwave.
”I... that's nice.” Nice? Okay, so my capacity for speech was on the fritz thanks to the darlin' comment. And the grin. Definitely the grin. I gave myself a mental shake and searched for something semi-intelligent to say. ”I never would have figured you for a bottle man,” I said just as the microwave dinged.
”I'm not. But I keep a bottle on hand just in case. I like to be prepared.” When he turned back to me, his smile was gone. His gaze glowed with a heat that upped my otherwise cool body temperature several degrees. He held out the crimson offering.
”Drink up.”
My gaze snagged on the inside of his wrist and I traced the path of a thick blue vein until it disappeared beneath the muscle of his strong forearm.
I swallowed and suddenly the thought of actually touching my lips to the sweet red heat sparked a rush of panic. ”I need coffee,”
I blurted. When he stared at me as if I'd ordered well done, I shrugged. ”It's my evening routine. Coffee revs me up.” Yeah, right. But I so didn't trust myself to drink drink right now. The hunger was fierce enough on its own.
Already, my palms itched and my throat burned and my insides felt tight and needy. At the first sip, it would grow even worse.
Overwhelming. And I feared I wouldn't be able to sate it before... Before.
”You do have coffee, don't you?”
He shook his head. ”Sorry.”And here I thought the guy was irresistible.
”What sort of vampire are you?”
”The kind that doesn't drink coffee. In case you haven't heard, we vampires usually indulge with something else.” He held up the bottle in salute before downing a long swig for himself. His gaze grew even brighter and more intense and my stomach went hollow. ”It's much better for you than caffeine.” His . voice was deeper and more husky when he spoke this time.
And much more stirring.
”Diet c.o.ke,” I blurted. ”Do you have any Diet c.o.ke?”
He bared his fangs and gave me a semi-ferocious look. ”Do I look like a man who drinks Diet c.o.ke?”
Not exactly. But when it came to pecs, he put Lucky-the s.h.i.+rtless construction worker in their most famous commercial-to shame.
”All right, all right.” I threw up my hands. ”Regular c.o.ke?”
He gave me a what planet are you front? look before shaking his head.
”What about tea?”
”I'm afraid not.”
”Hot chocolate?”