He breathes heavier. His hands tighten on my waist. His eyes meteors burning across the night sky. A wave of desire pushes into my chest. It’s as if he is pushing his heart into my soul, allowing me to feel what he is feeling. It takes my breath away.
My entire body burns with need, my blood heating for his liking.
I want him to take it.
Take me.
His knuckles drift down my face, neck, the middle of my chest, a constant growl vibrating from him.
“I can’t take you. Not yet, sugar. I want to, I do. I really fucking do, but there’s so much more you need to know.”
How could he have known what I was thinking? “I didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t need to.”
His lips inch closer to mine, apprehension stopping him from kissing me. Time stands still as I wait. My nerves send a tremor through my system, the air around me electrified as the predator lurks closer.
And closer.
He cups the back of my head, devouring me again with his eyes. So much emotion is always in them. He’s drowning.
If he allows me, I can save him.
Finally, his lips press against mine. The kiss is rough. His fangs nip at my lip. Blood pools in my mouth, and Oklahoma is there, his tongue slipping between my lips.
He groans, plunging his tongue deeper. “Fuck! I need you.” Wrapping his arms around me, and in another gust of wind, we’re on the ground.
We aren’t just on the ground; we’re on the porch.
He places his cowboy hat on top of my head, then leans down and kisses my cheek.
I close my eyes, relishing in his touch. Our bond, the connection, it strengthened tonight. I want to understand it, but I can’t unless he makes me understand.
A cool breeze drifts across my face, and when I open my eyes, I’m staring at smoke swaying and drifting from the fire pit.
He’s gone.
And my entire being is on fire.
“You look like shit, Oakley.” Westin stands in the doorway to my bedroom. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“Let it go, Westin,” I wheeze, the crackled rasp taking me back to when I was a teen with pneumonia.
“You’re so fucking stubborn and stupid. It pisses me off.”
“If you’re here to make me feel worse, you can go.” I cough, covering my mouth with my hand. Warm spray coats my palm, and I know what it is without looking because of the metallic taste in my mouth.
Bringing my hand away, red paints my flesh. I lick my lips free of blood.
“Fuck, you’re killing yourself. I just didn’t realize you’d be so stupid while doing it.” Westin stomps into the room, his vision red with anger, plucking tissues from the box to throw them atme. “You had your chance to tell her everything last night, and you didn’t.”
“You were listening to my conversation?” I wipe my mouth and my hands clean, tossing the tissue in the trash can. “That’s rude.”
“Of course, we listened. I wanted to see if you’d back out of the opportunity, and damn it, I hate being right.”
I chuckle, then groan, the pain nearly unbearable when I use any muscle.
“Oklahoma, you have to stop doing this. Stop fighting it. She doesn’t give a shit that you’re a vampire. Do you know how lucky you are?”
