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Total mood killer. I sigh, kick off my sneakers, pull off my socks, and do what she asks. Nestled in a pile of maroon pillows, I wait, flexing my feet idly.
She returns quickly with a stack of black towels and sets them down on the bedside table closest to me. Her bra straps are back in place, no longer hanging off her shoulders, and her expression is carefully blank. Grabbing the towel on top, she crawls across the bed, opens the towel, and places it over my chest.
“I thought I wasn’t that messy of an eater,” I joke, hoping to tease a smile out of her.
It’s a weak, forced smile that fools neither of us. “Better safe than sorry.”
“I’m okay. Really.” Such a big fucking lie. My body is so starved for blood that it feels like it’s eating itself from the inside out. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“You don’t have to lie to me,” she says, twisting her hair over one shoulder to expose her long, graceful neck.
“Then don’t look at me like I’m going to keel over at any second,” I reply harsher than I mean to. Her gaze turns sad, and I can tell she’s about to apologize again, so I beat her to the punch. “I’m sorry, love. You’re right, I’m hungry, and it’s making me grouchy.”
“I can help with that,” she says softly, leaning over so her exposed neck is right in front of my watering mouth.
Certain that if I open my mouth, I’ll say something stupid again, I wordlessly accept what she’s offering. With my lips pressed against her skin, I run my tongue along her flesh, my saliva having a numbing effect that prevents the bite from hurting. Her breath hitches from the contact, and she presses her hands against my chest. When my fangs sink into her, she releases a low, happy sigh that would worry me if I wasn’t starving.
Her blood bursts onto my tongue like I bit into perfectly ripe fruit, and I groan with relief. I want to be gentle, to take sips so as not to harm her, but it’s like a floodgate breaks inside me, my body desperate to replenish what I’ve lost. Within seconds, I fist her hair, and my other arm drags her into my lap as I gulp down her blood. Her magic courses through me, and I finally feel warm.
Callie doesn’t resist, moaning under the pleasure of vampire venom. I’m still frightened about potential addiction, but at least for now, she’s lost to pleasure instead of sadness. The towel covering my chest falls between us as I sit up to get better leverage to feed. She tugs it away, then her hands snake under my clothes to my bare stomach. My body comes alive under her touch, and I want more of her. In these moments, when her blood coats my throat and her magic feeds my soul, I feel like I have the energy to do anything, like I’m invincible.
Retracting my fangs, I rip my hoodie and shirt up over my head and kiss her like I need the air from her lungs to survive. She squeaks with surprise and then gives as good as she gets. Now that I’m not immediately feeding, my energy is like sand running quickly through an hourglass, but I need this—a moment where I’m not the sickly boy wasting away, but someone in deep, frenzied love.
The kiss before was nothing compared to this one. Blood smears across our bare skin as we cling to each other like we’re drowning. My hands roam down her body as she shifts to straddle me, and I grip her ass through her tight jeans. She grinds against me, and I see stars. Old me would slow us down and draw it out until Callie was panting and desperate simply from the brush of lips and fingertips, but old me had fucking time.
A little longer, I think while releasing a throaty groan as her fingernails drag down my chest.
Just a few more minutes to be with her like this,I beg as she moans my name while I tease her through her bra.
The grains of sand reach the bottom too quickly. While my tongue dances with hers, and she drags my sweatpants lower, a wave of fatigue hits me so hard I collapse back onto the pillows. I’m like a bright, burning candle that was suddenly snuffed out.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, my eyelids falling closed because it takes too much energy to leave them open. “I can’t…”
“It’s, uh… It’s okay,” Callie assures me, equally as breathless.
“Don’t leave,” I mumble when she moves off the bed, drowsiness making me slur my words. I want to hold her, but my arms are dead weights at my sides.
The bed shifts as she climbs back to me, and the last thing I remember before sleep takes me is the soft touch of her lips on my forehead as she whispers, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter 2
Callie
Drifting on the edge of wakefulness, I snuggle back against Nolan’s chest, finding peace in his warm, even breaths against the back of my neck. Despite being under the blankets and spooned together, Nolan’s bare skin is cold—too cold. Imagining the sensation of warm sunlight against my skin on a hot summer day, I push out some of my magic and wrap it around him like an invisible cloak. He sighs happily, relaxing into the artificial warmth, and flexes his arm around my waist.
“Well, cousin, you are full of surprises,” says an unfamiliar male voice.
An equally unfamiliar female voice giggles.
My eyes pop open. Lounging close together against the banister that lines one side of Nolan’s loft bedroom are two individuals with fair skin and platinum blond hair. They are dressed in a casual elegance that can only come from wealth, and both look like they are barely college age. They also look incredibly similar to the boy who is currently glued to my back.
“Nolan,” I hiss, elbowing him in the ribs.
He grunts and adjusts himself so that his arms now wrap over mine, pinning them to my sides, and throws one leg over my hip for good measure. Sleepily, he presses a light kiss to my neck and mumbles, “A few more minutes.”
“No, now,” I squeak, getting ready to hyperventilate because I’m in nothing but my underwear and one of Nolan’s band shirts, and two of his extended family members are standing right there. “You have guests.”
“Tell them to go away,” he grumbles. The boy really isn’t a morning person.
