AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Good Lord.
Pale skin, miles of it, perfect and smooth. A little metal key hung from a slim chain around his neck. He had a swimmer’s body, lean, rangy, with long legs. His feet were slender and highly arched. Water dripped down the muscled contours of his back, toward a butt that—
That settled it. I was jealous of a towel.
I did my best to look away. I didn’t even want to admit that I wanted to look. A little flirtation at dinner was one thing, but I would not let him know that seeing him swathed in a threadbare towel was possibly the best sexual experience I’d had in more than a year. I had to maintain some dignity. He shot a startled glance into the bedroom, as if he hadn’t expected me to be there.
“Apologies,” he said, grabbing his overnight case and snapping the door shut.
My jaw dropped. What the hell? He was a vampire. Vampires did not get distracted. They didn’t just forget that there was a beating human heart pumping the scent of their favorite food into the next room. Had he left the door open on purpose? Was he trying to torture me?
I grabbed my lip balm and paperback out of my bag, knowing full well that I wouldn’t read before I went to sleep. But it was my nightly ritual, and it had to be respected. I was standing by the bed, debating whether it was grosser to sleep on the comforter or to risk bedbug bites by climbing under the sheets, when the door swung open again. Collin emerged, damp hair curling slightly at the ends, a plume of steam following him out of the bathroom like something out of a Whitesnake video.
He was wearing another suit, black this time, with a crisp blue shirt. And because I was suddenly very self-conscious about my work-inappropriate sleepwear, I yanked back the covers and slid between the sheets.
Shudder.
“So do you own a pair of jeans?” I asked.
“Why would I wear jeans and T-shirts when the clothing I wear suits me so much better?” he asked.
“Touché,” I muttered.
There was a loud thump from the room above ours and a chorus of drunken laughter. I heard the opening bars of “Gangsta’s Paradise” blare though the floor. Tiny sprinkles of ceiling dust drifted down like carcinogenic snow. As the bass line picked up, the snow flurries graduated to large flakes of paint.
I sighed and pulled the sheet over my face. “Of course.”
I made a little peephole in the threadbare fabric so I could peer out. Collin pulled the bare wooden chair away from the battered desk, wiped it clean with a handkerchief, and settled in with a book. I punched a pillow the thickness of a maxi pad into shape and propped my head against it. I pretended not to notice that he’d propped his feet on the bed, that they were inches away from own. The mattress sagged and shifted underneath me as I flopped back and forth like a fish, trying to find a comfortable position.
“I thought you were tired,” he said blandly as I fidgeted under the covers.
“I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep,” I whined, throwing the covers back and picking up my book. “This bed is like something out of ‘The Princess and the Pea.’”
“Is that a veiled request for a bedtime story?”
I wondered briefly if that meant I could crawl into his lap. Because if so, I was onboard.
“What are you reading?”
“Catch-22,” I said, showing him the cover.
“That’s a rather bleak story.”
“It’s about someone in a no-win situation of his own creation. I can relate.”
“Do you often read such nihilistic works?”
“No, I read a little bit of everything. Mysteries, fantasy, horror, romances—except for bodice rippers.”
“Beg pardon?”
I propped myself on my elbows. “Historical romances. You know, the swashbuckling pirate hero wants his lady so badly that he just rips the bodice of her gown open to access her bosoms.”
He snickered derisively. “That’s bloody ridiculous.”
“Yeah, I can’t believe I said bosoms, either.”
“No, speaking as someone with experience, you can’t just rip bodices open,” he insisted rather indignantly. “It takes time and patience and, in some cases, a small, deftly maneuvered blade.”
