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He locks eyes with me.
Not fair. It’s harder to control myself when looking into those hypnotic blue depths.
And what if he kisses me?
I think he might. And if he does, I won’t be able to resist. I’m only human.
He pulls me even closer, and our lower bodies touch.
Holy phallic symbols.
Is that the proverbial flashlight in his pocket, or is Dracula very happy to see me?
I should step back, but I can’t.
My legs refuse to move away—not even when Vlad slowly lowers his head, as if his mouth is drawn to mine by a puppeteer’s string.
Got to do something. Now.
“We should test today,” I blurt, stopping him an inch from my lips.
Eyes gleaming, he lifts his head. “Should we?”
“At your place.” Wait, what? How is that better than kissing? This is clearly the hormones and the vodka talking.
His nostrils flare. “Now?”
“It is a school night.” School night? Did that pop into my head because this is so much like the fantasy of a prom I never had?
“Let’s go.” He guides me through the slow-dancing throngs of software engineers.
Before I can blink, we’re in the limo again.
“What about your family?” I say as Ivan floors the gas pedal.
Vlad takes out his phone and sends a few rapid-fire texts.
A bunch of replies arrive immediately.
He rolls his eyes. “To sum up, everyone liked you. A lot.”
Why do I have the feeling the actual texts mentioned unborn grandchildren or worse?
“Good to know.” The words come out too breathless for my liking.
“First things first.” He reaches into a drawer on the side and takes out something resembling an asthma inhaler. Changing the mouth piece, he thrusts the gizmo in my face. “Blow.”
My cheeks burn. Apparently, they pictured my lips around Dracula’s shaft, not this device.
“What is that?” I ask, though I can guess.
“A breathalyzer. I want to make sure you’re not intoxicated.”
Huh, okay. Shrugging, I blow into the thing. I took a drug test before I started working for Binary Birch; this is not that different, I guess.
He frowns. “Point-zero-five percent. I think we’re going to take you home.”
Is he calling me a lightweight? I lift my chin. “Below eight is safe to drive in NYC.”
