Skimming the page before me, though, I wonder if I can’t play dirtier…
Chapter 18
?
Is it hot out here? Or is it just summer?
August
Oh…my…
“Once again, my wicked vampire foe has beckoned me outside. The lights of the stars and full moon kiss his pale skin, drawing fingers of silver and white across the contours of his face. The shadows darken around him, black as obsidian, dark as charcoal. Like charcoal, they cling to him, seeming to swallow the frail light whole.
“My mouth dries. My heart hammers.
“We’ve battled often since our first meeting—usually with daggers and chains—but tonight…now…he’s devised a different scheme. One that is sure to be my undoing.”
Dominic smiles. It’ssultry. As sultry as the attire he’s donned—which is dark, flowing, and ethereal. A long cloak rests over his shoulder, and a lightning bug perches upon the brass button holding it in place. The lazy, inconsistent glow adds to the fantasy pooling in the summer air, and my lungs grow sticky in the humidity.
In tall black boots, he takes a step toward me, where I linger upon my back porch beside my swing, peering down into a yard he’s fashioned with a large bed of blankets and pillows. A scattering of fairy lights illuminates the glass-covered treats adorning the lavish display, and a bucket of ice beside flute glasses teases the possibility of alcohol.
Once he reaches the porch steps, a gloved hand rises, fingers splayed, offer clear. His blue eyes delve into my soul as he beckons me to the grass where he is. “My saint.”
My heartbeat skips.
“Have you finished your narration?”
I wet my lips and continue, “My wicked vampire expects me to walk easily into his arms—and his trap. He is a fool.”
“Am I? Because I cannot help but recognize that you keep calling meyours.”
“Wisdom spears me, and I know what to do.” I turn sharply on my heel.
With unnatural speed, Dominic scales the steps and traps a hand around my neck, halting me before I can flee back inside. My back hits his chest as his fingers spread, confident in their control. His lips lower, and the damp heat from them is distinctly separate from the night air. “Oh, darling.” He kisses my throat, and mist clouds my mind. “If you prefer we return to our game of chains…I can gladly oblige.”
Oh. My.Goodness.
I shiver. “I don’t writethatheat level, Dominic.”
“No?” His nose skims the shell of my ear. “Lack of experience, nerve…or both?”
Most likely, in this moment, I overheat. “On-page intimacy feels like a cop out. I prefer to explore emotional depth in my writing.” Also, withholdingallmanner of intimacy leaves December sniffling at me while she reads, which is very funny.
“Emotional depth,” he echos, then his fingers slip away from my throat. Briefly, he traps me in a hug, then the press of his body is gone, replaced by the cage of his fingers catching mine. His eyes glitter like gems as he whirls me back toward the stairs and draws me down the two steps into the yard. The cushion of the blankets he’s layered in the bed of bad decisions meets my feet, and he settles me by a ridge of large pillows. “Sit.”
I should, probably, run. But…I see something that looks suspiciously like chocolate in one of the glass displays, so I gracefully lower myself and spread my skirt daintily about me before folding my hands in my lap instead.
I donotsteal a piece of chocolate while he’s preoccupied setting up his laptop and checking that the charge cable is working. As that would not at all be saintly behavior.
Chewing innocently, I smile as Dominic pulls off his brand new boots to get more comfortable. He procures a notepad next, and the suspense starts killing me—until he opens a tab to display the first episode ofKaicho wa Maid-sama.
I gasp.
He looks at me, and his eyes warm, taunting.
I flutter my lashes, because whome? DidIjust make that sound? No. No, I did not.
And I absolutely don’t steal another piece of chocolate while I watch him, either.
