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Her shoulders dropped. “I-I don’t remember. I guess I was...dreaming.”
“Had to be one hell of a dream.” The scent of his blood seemed too thick in the air.
“I…guess so.” She reached for him and Jude held his ground. Erin bit her lip. “I should wash this. Bandage you.” She caught his arm and led him to the bathroom.
He could have stopped her. Told her it was just a flesh wound and that even without shifting, it would be gone by dawn. But he liked the way her hands felt against him.
He’d ditched his shirt before he’d crashed in the bed. Kept his jeans on, just in case. Good thing he’d had the denim on. He’d have to make sure he kept her claws away fromthatpart of his anatomy.
The bathroom was the size of a closet, a miniscule one. After flipping on the lights, Erin turned from him and wrenched on the water. She snagged a cloth, held it under the flow of water, soaped it up, and then eased it across his bare chest.
The lady didn’t meet his gaze. Just kept one small hand over his heart while the other swiped the cloth over the five long claw marks.
No denying what they were.
She turned from him, her hip and shoulder brushing against him as she rinsed the blood from the cloth.
“Want to talk about it?” He inched closer, the better to trap her against the sink.
Erin’s face was pale. “I have occasional night terrors, okay? Had them for years, even before the creep got attached to me.” Her lips pressed together. “I don’t remember the dreams.”
“Don’t you?”
She flinched.
His hands rose slowly and curled over her shoulders. “If you don’t want to talk about the dream, then how about you try telling me one more time that youaren’tlike me. Because I know a shifter’s claws when I see them.”And feel them.
Her gaze held his in the mirror. Her hair was a dark curtain around her face, and despite her height, she still looked fragile, delicate, against him.
Looks could be so deceiving.
“Having claws...doesn’t make me a shifter.” Her chin lifted and color finally began to drift back into her cheeks. “Any number ofOtherhave claws.”
True enough. His head lowered over her shoulder. She’d finally ditched her business clothes and slipped on a loose pair of pajama pants and a white top. The neckline was low and scooped, showing off that perfect cleavage.
Jude bent over her. Really, he was in the best position. That sweet ass before him. Her neck, all but bared so close to his mouth.
A faint tremble shook her.
He lowered his head, setting his mouth right over her throat. Just an inch separated him from that sweet flesh.
Vamps weren’t the only ones who liked to bite.
“Jude...”
His lips closed over her skin. Kissed. Sucked. Her head fell back, exposing even more of her tempting nape.
His mouth eased over her. Found that sweet spot where neck and shoulder met. A favorite for his kind. His fangs burned.
He bit her. Not too hard. Not a marking.
Just a taste.
That firm ass rocked back against him as she moaned.
His heart thudded, the drumming filling his ears. The dream—night terror, whatever the hell it had been—was gone.
Now it was just the two of them. He was ready,morethan ready, his cock hard and thick with lust, and she wanted him, he knew that.
