Page 14 of Bonded Through Bite

“I’ve got food in the fridge.”

“Great. Go take a shower and I’ll make something.”

His tone raises my hackles and I snap. “You don’t have to. I can take care of myself.”

Rafael growls. “Samantha. I swear to all gods known to mankind, if you don’t stop fighting me, I’ll haul you over my shoulder and lock you in my apartment.” He runs a hand over his hair and then his mouth, hiding his fangs from view. “I’m trying to respect your boundaries, but I’m hanging on the edge here. So, please, go have a nice long shower while I cook for you.”

“I—oh.” I have nothing to say. “Okay.” I turn on my heel and rush to my bedroom before I do something stupid, like burst into tears right in front of him.

The shower gives me a moment to collect myself and take stock of how I’m feeling. Physically beat. Emotionally wrung out. Do I regret last night? Not one bit.

While drying my hair, I snort.

Who knew Samantha Ramsey, the self-proclaimed slut of Henley College, would first have a three-year dry spell and then fall into bed with just one man?

Past me would mock current me relentlessly.

I trace the hickeys on my neck and sigh.

Time to face the music. I pull on my old college hoodie—it seems fitting somehow—and some yoga pants and stick my feet into my slippers. If he insists on hanging around, he might as well meet Roger and Ralph sooner rather than later. I hate having cold feet.

My stomach growls the moment I smell the scents coming from the kitchen. I stop at the door to take it all in. Rafael is wearing my ‘Kiss the cook’ apron and flipping over what looks like the most delicious grilled cheese sandwich. A small salad already sits on the table, along with iced water in a pitcher and a glass of orange juice.

“Sit. This is almost ready,” he says without turning and I sit down, stunned.

“You can cook?”

“I like it.”

“Do vampires even eat food?” I blurt out and he glances at me over his shoulder.

“We don’t. Doesn’t mean I can’t like cooking.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

He ignores me and slides the sandwich on a plate.

“Here,” he says as he sets it in front of me.

I sip the juice, gauging how my stomach handles it, and once half of the glass is safely in my stomach, I bite into the sandwich. I don’t know what he did to it, but it’s a delicious mix of tomato and melted cheese and herbs, and I have to force myself to slow down.

Rafael watches me eat and I give him a thumbs-up, not pausing enough to say anything as I fork some salad into my mouth. It’s a perfect combination.

“Want another?” he asks when I’m almost done.

“Yes, but a bit later.” He nods and silently waits for me to finish. The food is kicking in and I feel better, although a couple more hours of sleep would be great.

“There’s some color in your cheeks again.”

I gulp down the rest of the juice. “This was great. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He clears the plates and narrows his eyes at me. “We need to talk.”

“I’d rather you fuck me again,” I shoot back.

“Samantha.” He grinds his teeth. I blink innocently at him. The food is already making me feel better, and now that I reminded my body of the glorious orgasms he’s able to dish out, my nipples perk up. Then a massive yawn breaks free and Rafael sighs. “Right. You need sleep.”

I want to argue, but it’s hard.