Nariko dips her chin to hide her shy smile, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth, and I so badly want to tug it free to take her in another kiss.
She pats the empty space next to her, urging me to sit. I’m never going to say no to an invitation like that. The heat from the fire warms my jeans, silence falling over everybody to see what I do or where I’m going.
The old rocking chair creaks from my weight, and I wince, waiting for it to fall apart any second. It’s been too long since I’ve checked on the condition of these chairs. I never use them, and time has not been kind to the wood.
I blow out a breath after a few seconds, realizing I’m safe. Everyone laughs, including Jazz and Westin.
“I told you months ago to replace those chairs. One day, you’ll sit, and a piece of that wood will be a dagger through the heart.”
Nariko’s hand squeezes my arm, a rush of fear slamming into me, only it’s coming from her. Taking her hand in mine, I bring it to my lips to kiss, hoping it reassures her.
I lean in and whisper, “Hey. I’ll be alright. He was kidding.”
“No, he wasn’t. Promise me, you’ll fix the chairs.” She turns to me, her long, silky hair falling over her shoulder, the strands glossy against the firelight.
I want to feel the silken pieces drag across my chest or caress the tops of my thighs when she’s on top of me, riding my cock. I hold in a growl from the mental image, and I have to hide my eyes, squeezing them shut until they return to normal.
The longer I sit next to her and feel her emotions, scent her blood, my imagination is going haywire, and it’s becoming harder to control myself.
Everyone’s conversations lull to a buzz. The crickets chirping, the frogs singing, the fire crackling, it all fades to nothing.
Except for one.
Nariko’s heart.
It’s louder than all the other mess the world creates. The beat is the only one I want to hear.
Bahdum. Bahdum. Bahdum.
It races. Her blood rushes through her veins, through every chamber of her heart, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. Dry and dying of thirst.
Swiping my thumb across her knuckles, I smile at being held accountable. “I promise, Sugar. I’ll fix anything you want me to.”
She leans her elbow on her leg, her chin in her palm, as she gives me a playful smile. The longer we sit next to one another, the stronger the bond becomes. I miss what I haven’t been able to have yet.
Her touch all over my body.
My fangs in her throat, or even better, in her inner thigh.
Her moans in my ear when I’m deep enough.
My cock hardens in my jeans, and I clear my throat, covering the evidence the best I can with my hands.
Westin and Jazz are laughing, tears are in their eyes. Jazz even falls to the ground, gripping his stomach. All because they can smell how much I’m dying to have Nariko.
Millie and Jess are sitting on the cabin steps. Millie is higher, retwisting her wife’s locs. Music plays in the background at a low volume so everyone can still talk, and yet I can’t seem to find the words to talk to my fated mate.
The longer I look at her, the more I realize I’m at peace. We don’t have to talk. There’s plenty being said now. Her hand in mine. Her eyes on me. The beat of her heart playing in my head over and over, a song that anyone else wouldn’t understand.
“What made y’all start chasing tornadoes, anyway?” Jazz asks, taking a drink of his beer.
Not that the humans know, but there’s blood mixed with his drink. I’d do anything for one drop of Nariko’s blood. I think that’s the only reason why I’m not bedridden right now in sickness like I was earlier. I licked her wound. I couldn’t help myself. The cut was right there, blood dripping from it, teasing me, toying with my restraint, and I needed a taste.
One. Small. Taste.
That’s what I told myself.
And now I need more.
