Page 48 of In His Veins

“Can we go to my apartment tonight? I know my shower isn’t as fancy as yours, but I want my own shampoo.”

What I really want is something familiar as I try to sort out how I feel about all this newness. I think he realizes that too, because he doesn’t complain.

“Your place it is.”

27

CALLUM

It still feels strange to be invited into Ava’s home. I feel like I know it well, but standing next to her, it’s like I’m seeing it through her eyes. I follow her into her bedroom, and for the millionth time tonight, I consider tossing her into my car and driving until Kiel can’t find us.

I had already decided to leave the state after I picked up Ava from work, but realized I couldn’t leave Chase to figure this out on his own either. We were already hours from home, but by happy accident, we were near my favorite restaurant. I fight the urge to tell Ava everything, not wanting to cause her unnecessary fear.

All thoughts of Kiel leave my brain as Ava peels off her clothes and tosses them to the floor. Because I’m standing in the doorframe, she brushes past me on the way to the bathroom. Being so close to her naked body makes it hard to think and it takes me a moment to realize she’s telling me something.

“I’m going to take a quick shower.” She shuts the door and I’m still standing in the hallway like an idiot. I wander around her apartment, transfixed by her tuneless humming.

She’s left a paint palette on her couch, and I suddenly remember all the painting she did over the last few days. I start toward her studio, hoping that the showerhead will block the sound of creaking floorboards in the hallways.

Easing open the door, I can’t do anything but stare into the room. There are paintings scattered over the tables, on the easel, and spread across the floor. I recognize many of the images, my heart lodging in my throat.

One shows a masked woman with dark hair. Her head is turned to the side as a hand grips her throat. It has a companion piece; dark blue eyes surrounded by a black mask that fades into feathers.

There’s a broken perfume bottle in a pool of blood. Next to it is a painting of a man’s torso. A shard of glass protrudes from his abdomen and drips blood in the shape of a serpent. I hold a hand against my wound, the image conjuring phantom pain.

Another painting shows a looming figure in an alley. The adjacent painting shows a masked man again, but this time he’s grinning and offering a human finger to the viewer. I’m everywhere in her paintings, and she did all of them before she realized who I really am.

“Do you like them?” Her voice is soft, but it startles me. I actually jump, but she doesn’t seem to notice because she’s looking at the paintings scattered around the room.

“I’ve been particularly inspired lately.” Ava turns to me then, her skin still damp from her shower and mostly covered by a towel. Excess water drips from the tips of her hair down her back. I wish I was an artist just so I could capture this memory of her forever.

“I love them,” I finally answer, my voice hoarse. Her grin brightens her entire face. I can hardly look at her. She’s so beautiful, I feel a physical pang in my chest.

“I’m glad,” she says. “Because they’ve been selected for an exhibit.”

“You’re kidding,” my face breaking into a matching grin. “Ava, that’s amazing!” I’m laughing, having never felt so much joy for someone else’s success. I pull her into my arms, her towel slipping.

“Dead serious. And they want me to start preparing for another feature in the winter show.”

“You should be so fucking proud of yourself.”

“I am,” she says softly. Her expression is hesitant, but I can tell she’s confident in her work. I kiss her on the lips and work my way down her neck. She lets out a little gasp, making me instantly hard.

“I’m going to take a quick shower,” I murmur against her throat, “and then let’s see if we can come up with some new scenes that inspire you.” Her pupils are blown wide as she nods.

I pull off my shirt as I walk out the door, feeling her familiar gaze on me. I leave the door open as I finish undressing. She freezes on her way into the bedroom, not expecting to see me.

Ava slowly steps toward me and drops her towel at my feet. She stands on her tiptoes to press a kiss against my lips, her nipples brushing against my chest. My dick pokes into her stomach, but she ignores it as she steps away and strides into her bedroom.

“You better hurry. My vibrator might beat you to it tonight,” she calls over her shoulder. The threat throws me into action, and I wash myself quickly with Ava’s vanilla soap.

I run a towel over my damp hair before walking into her room with it tied around my waist. She’s lying in bed, and her bare skin feels like a homecoming. She’s draped a few towels underneath her body, likely in an attempt to spare her quilt from staining. Her cuts from the other night are still red. The memory of my blade in her skin drives me mad. I climb on top of her, and her hands immediately grip my towel. She pulls it off, dragging me into a kiss.

She wraps her legs around my hips, my tip slipping against her entrance.

She groans and I rub it against her again. Her hips lift and twist. I allow the movement, falling onto my back. She’s even more gorgeous on top as she pulls a groan from me, grinding her pussy against my dick. She kisses my chest, moving herself up and down on my length.

Grabbing my shaft, she drags it through her folds. I watch as she coats me in her blood, the sight causing me to groan again. I let her feel like she’s in charge for a little longer before I grip her by the thighs and pull her forward.

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