Page 45 of Blood Lovers

“Really?” She sucks in a breath.

“Really. Where the fuck have you been all my life?”

“Looking for you, maybe?”

“That was the right answer.”

“So I’ve passed the test?”

“A-plus-plus-plus.”

She crosses the distance between us at an almost languid, lazy walk and stops right in front of me. “I have an update.”

“About?”

“How our night’s gonna go.”

“Really.”

“Truly.”

“You’ve come to the conclusion that I am a serial killer.”

“Not just that.”

“Not just that?” This woman, damn. She’s just… I don’t know. But I like everything she’s doing right now.

“You do have a serial killer vibe going.”

I chuckle. But she’s not wrong. I have killed quite a few people in my life as Paul’s scion. “Then why are you still here?”

She gently pokes my chest, the tip of her finger finding its way inside the open zipper of my biker jacket so that when it touches my t-shirt underneath, I can feel the tiny spark of heat that is her. “You’re not after me.”

“Syrsee, I’m so after you, it’s not even funny. You’re like… top of the list, chick.”

She likes this answer, because she lets out a breathy huff. “As I was saying. My update?”

“Please continue. I’m dying to hear it.”

She points to the floor and makes that fingertip draw a little circle in the air. “I will not be passing out on this floor.”

I shake my head, smiling so big, my cheeks are beginning to hurt. “It’s gross.”

“Ryet. How do you walk barefoot in here?”

“I don’t. I sleep with my boots on.”

“OK. I have another update.”

“Keep going.”

“I’m not getting in that bed, either.”

I look over at the bed, then back at her. “I threw the magic bed out the night I arrived. But the little coin-op thing? It’s bolted to the fucking headboard so it had to stay. And all the sheets and covers are new. So I feel it’s my duty to inform you that that bed is the most hygienic thing in this cabin.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “So… it’s base.”

“Base?”