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“Thanks. You, too.”
I yanked his hand, forcing him back into the bed and rolling over me. He kissed me to show me exactly how boring we were.
“I’m sorry I ruined your Valentine’s Day,” he murmured against my neck, his voice soft on my skin. “I didn’t know it was so important to you.”
“Well, you do now. You’ve been put on notice.”
“I’m glad we’re sleeping together,” he said.
“Of course you are,” I snorted. “You have a Y chromosome.”
“I mean sleeping, as in resting,” he said, pulling me flush against him. “It’s very intimate.”
“I never should have let you watch Sleepless in Seattle,” I moaned. “I’ve ruined you.”
Gabriel did not snore. Nor did he squirm around or steal covers, which made him a far more considerate bedmate than Fitz. At dusk, I could feel the sun fading as I rolled against the contours of his side. It was sweet to wake up next to him, to see his face relaxed and his mouth hanging open. Everything was still, quiet.
I slipped my hand around his back and snuggled my face into his neck. It was oddly cool. I inhaled deeply, trying to memorize the scent of sleep on his skin, soft and clean and sweet.
I closed my eyes and swallowed against the rising sensation in my chest, a mixture of happiness that I’d finally arrived at this place in my life and fear that it would be over soon. I was even less experienced at long-term relationships than I was at decent sex. And what did I really know about either? Pledging your eternal love took on a whole new meaning when you actually lived forever.
What if Gabriel got bored with me? What if he woke up in both senses of the word and realized that I was really the same boring librarian under the fancy new fangs? What if Jeanine was the last vampire girl he’d cast off? Or worse yet, the vampire girl he was planning to be with once he’d cast me off?
These were heavy thoughts to have at vampire dawn. The noise of the gears turning in my head must have jarred Gabriel awake, because he stirred next to me, pulling on the front of my cow pajamas until I was flush against his chest.
“Morning,” he rumbled.
“Morning,” I whispered into his neck. “You sleep with your mouth open.”
“I learn something new from you every day,” he murmured, kissing my temple and stroking my back. He pulled me under him. I felt boneless, liquid, more relaxed than I’d been in weeks. I belonged here. I was wanted. I didn’t even worry about morning breath when Gabriel pressed his lips to mine, because, technically, neither of us had breath at any time of day.
The remnants of my unhappy thoughts still haunting me, I took the time to run my fingertips along his long, sinewy limbs, his smooth, pale skin. I cupped my palms around his cheeks, lazily tracing the line of his bottom lip with my thumb. I was almost beyond caring when Gabriel peeled my pajama top over my head.
“I hate these pajamas,” he muttered, tossing them over the edge of the bed. “The pajamas must go.”
“The pajamas stay,” I told him. He arched his eyebrows, making me giggle. “Well, not at the moment, obviously.”
He snickered, pushing the bottoms down to my ankles with his feet. He tucked his fingers between my hips and the waistband of my panties and tugged. The cotton buckled and tore, landing in a frayed heap next to my pajamas.
“What do you have against my panties?” I moaned, mourning the loss of yet another pair.
He smirked, casting a glance to where he was brushing against my wet, willing flesh. “Well, I think that should have been fairly obvious.”
I was still laughing when he slipped inside me. I stretched my arms above my head, gripping the headboard as he trailed kisses down my chest, increasing his pace. The deeper he drove, the tighter I held on, until I ripped the wood spokes out of the frame. I gasped, horrified at what I’d done to a family heirloom. And then I just gasped, lost in the waves of sensation that threatened to drag me under.
When I came to, I still had the hunks of wood clutched in my hands. Gabriel looked vaguely guilty.
“We made it to a bed,” he offered meekly.
“And then we destroyed it,” I moaned. “But it was worth it.”
He pulled me onto his chest, pushing my hair out of my face before pulling me close.
“It’s kind of weird to see Mr. Big Bad Vampire being all cuddly.” I chuckled. “It kind of destroys your mystique.”
“I haven’t had a lot of good, soft things in my life,” he said against my forehead. “Not since my family sent me away. Apart from being your sire and feeling that pull to you, it’s that goodness, that softness and warmth, along with the resolve and strength in you, that I love. Being turned hasn’t taken that from you. If someone were going to design the perfect mate for me, it would be you. Even when you infuriate me with your pigheaded stubbornness and your temper and incredible lack of anything resembling self-preservation—”
“Stop describing me, please.”
