“Man, I’m so jealous. I can’t cook for shit.”
We settle down at his dining table, which thankfully isn’t as rickety as his couch, and dig in, finishing breakfast in record time.
“So,” I start, breaking the silence as soon as we’re both done, “do you have any plans for today?”
He shakes his head, the fork still in his mouth. “Nah. It’s still shitty outside.”
A peek out the window confirms it’s still pouring.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you want, though,” he continues. “Again, I’m not chucking you out into a storm. There’sa spare toothbrush under the sink, and you can use my products if you wanna freshen up.”
Nodding, I go to do that. I grab one of the promised toothbrushes and scrub hard, getting my teeth really clean and sparkling. I don’t know why—it’s not like I’m gonna kiss Dean or anything.
Aaand why did I have to think about that? It isn’t gonna happen. We already did, and I freaked out. There’s no way he wants a repeat of our scorching hot kiss in the Kappa Boom Boom Room. The way he had his hands on me was something else, and I shudder at the recollection of his fingers sliding over my chest and the moan he let out when I sucked on his tongue.
I make a mindless grab at my dick, and yup, I’m rocking a semi, although if I think about it, I’m harder thansemi.
God. This is so fuckingfrustrating.Again—I can get aroused by the thought of Dean, and nottohim when he’s right in front of me, until today?
I’m so fucked up.
After spitting the toothpaste into the sink with a lot more force than necessary, I rinse my mouth out and go back to the living room, noticing Dean has retreated to the couch, huddling under a blanket with the breakfast dishes still on the table.
It’s his house, and he can do what he wants, but I should be nice and help out. I promptly collect them and deposit them in the sink. Three seconds is all it takes, and then I go to the couch as well to warm up, since this guy apparently doesn’t believe in keeping the heating on during the day.
“You’re making me feel bad in my own house,” he jokes, lifting the blanket to let me under. “Trust me, you can relax while you’re stuck here.”
“Just trying to make myself useful,” I reply, unsure of what exactly to say.
“Hey. I am strong and capable.” He snickers, turning toward me and flexing his arms.
I can’t stop staring at them, and he doesn’t fuckingstop.
Between us two, I’m the varsity athlete, but he’s seriously jacked. Hell, I’m jealous of his bicep insertions—there’s a nice dome to those arms, and I can’t stop myself from stretching a hand to them.
“You’re acting like a douche,” I tease, giving those biceps a firm squeeze. “That’s supposed to be my job.”
God, the feeling of firm muscle under my fingertips is fuckingsatisfying. I give them another press, and scoff as I let my hands linger.
And shit, that’s hot.
Don’t lead him on.
But am I still leading him on if I might want to go further?
My dick twitches. Scratchmight?—
He chuckles. “Are you done feeling me up?”
Only if he wants me to be.
Without thinking, I move my hands down to his waist, and the solid sensation underneath my fingertips?Fuck.It sends heat up my arms and straight into my core.
And down to my groin. Holy shit—I’m fully hard. Fromtouchinghim.
“Would you mind if I said no?” I ask, my voice low. I part my lips in an invitation he doesn’t take.
“Nick…” Dean throws his head back, stretching his neck, and it takes every last scrap of willpower to suppress the purevampiricalinstinct that’s telling me to sink my teeth into the pretty expanse of soft, smooth skin in front of me.
