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“That’s a closet.”
Bingo.
Band-Aids and antibiotic ointment galore.
On second thought, how was I supposed to cover the gaping wound where my shoulder met my neck?
Stepping forward, I started rummaging around, hoping to find a big-ass Band-Aid.
“You said you were looking at the rooms.” He stepped up behind me, and I fought the urge to suck in a breath as his chest brushed my back.
I’d been with two supernatural guys before, both of them vampires. Honestly, I wasn’t a huge fan of the blood sucking bit. But the size difference? I loved that. There weren’t many human men I wasn’t eye-to-eye with or taller-than. It had bugged me when I was younger, but I had come to like it. There were benefits to being tall.
But it also felt good to be dwarfed by a man, for some stupid, probably-anti-feminist reason.
“I was. I was just also looking for a Band-Aid.”
“Why?” His voice went low again.
I liked it when it was low.
“Some bastard ripped me off a vampire without removing the fangs first,” I said flippantly.
Sebastian’s chest went stiff behind me.
He moved my hair off my shoulder, pulled my dress to the side, and swore viciously. “Fucking hell. This hasn’t healed yet?”
“I’m human,” I pointed out, still rummaging around.
“Vampire venom is supposed to heal their victims quickly.”
“Vampires don’t usually rip their teeth through their food source’s neck,” I drawled.
Sebastian stepped around me. His movements were violent as he pulled out a tube of antibiotic ointment and a bandage that was indeed big enough to cover my wound. “You should havetold me.” He yanked the shoulder of my dress further down my arm. My bra strap followed, though he wasn’t looking at my tits. “Hold still. I’m taking you to the doctor after I cover this.”
“I’m not going to the doctor. I’m fine.” I gritted my teeth when he gently covered the area with ointment. He was being careful; it was just sore. “If you really want me to heal, you should take me back to the nightclub and pay someone to turn me into a vampire.”
“No one else’s teeth are going anywhere near your skin,” he snapped.
“No one’s except Red’s, Crash?” I countered, the ridiculous nickname slipping out.
I’d once joked with Miley that I was going to start calling him by anything I could come up with that rhymed with Bash. He had never given me permission to use his real nickname, so I was going with it.
“No oneelseimplies thatsomeone’steeth are going near my skin,” I pointed out.
“No one’s teeth,” he growled. “Stop moving. I’m trying to get this on right.”
I dutifully closed my mouth, though I silently gave myself another point.
I totally won that round.
He had been talking about his teeth being the only ones going near my skin, and we both knew it. Even if I was playing dumb.
“There.” He smoothed out the borders of the bandage. “I’ll change it when we’re back with the ingredients and the rest ofyour stuff. If it looks any worse, I’m taking you to the doctor, whether you like it or not.”
“Fine.”
He finally stepped away from me, and I walked to the next door. The one he had stepped out of a few minutes earlier.
