Page 23 of Bloody Temptations

I have to work to keep my voice casual, and I’m pretty sure no one can see the twitchiness in my hands even though it feels like my entire body is buzzing.

It’s not like I’m new to asking guys for their number. Actually, scratch that. I am. Usually they are asking for mine. Or we met on an app so it’s irrelevant. Or at a club and it’s really irrelevant because there is zero chance of seeing each other after our hook up.

But Finn’s different. Not just because I have the distinct feeling that if I don’t make the jump, Finn’s not going to do it.

When I look up, Finn is blushing again. It has to be painful, seriously. I didn’t blush this much the night the seam of my shorts tore open when Nikki and I were dancing on the bar and I literally flashed the whole bar everything from crack to balls.

Finn’s biting his lip so hard, his fang has pierced it. There is an extremely distracting drop of blood pooling there. What I wouldn’t give to wrap my hand around the back of his neck, to haul him closer and lick that blood away. Fuck.

Really glad the bar is between us because these pants are too tight to be getting this hard at work.

“Uh, sure. Yup. Sounds good.” Finn finally nods, his tongue darting out to lick at his lip—it really doesn’t help my situation. He digs his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it before sliding it over. “Uh, why don’t you put your number in.”

I do as he asks, calling myself so I have his number too. He snort-laughs when he sees the name of my contact—Kai (Hot Vampire Bartender). It’s the name of mine and Nikolo’s biggest fan account. If he hasn’t already seen it, maybe it’ll help him find it.

I bounce my eyebrows at him, holding down the absolutely insane urge to poke my tongue out at him or pull his hair.

Willan unwittingly comes to my rescue before I cave and resort to giving Finn a noogie or something childish just to be able to touch him, declaring that he needs to go because he has work in the morning.

“Unless you want to stay or something?” He says to Finn who looks torn. And fuck, I wish I had telepathy or something to tell him to stay. I still have a few hours left of my shift, though.

Maybe he can read minds, though, because he shakes his head. “No, I’ve got some things to get done anyway.” He shrugs apologetically.

“Gotta go pick up the sacrifice for the weekend, right? Hit me up, maybe I can help. I know a guy.” It’s not the smoothest line I’ve ever busted out, but he laughs anyway, pulling on his coat.

“Sounds like a plan.” He stops, looking directly at me, a shadow of vulnerability in his face. “I’ll message you?”

“Counting on it.” I reassure him, trying that telepathy thing again to really get my point across. Because scarily enough, I think I’m one-hundred percent serious.

9

Finn

Kai (Hot Vampire Bartender):

So the sacrifice. How did it go? Good, bad? World ending?

I almost drop myphone on my face when the message pops up on my screen. It’s the last night of the weekend and I have done… nothing. Actually, I did cover a shift for Bedeer last night, which meant not only did I get double weekend rates, I also couldn’t embarrass myself by going back to Bloody Temptations to gawk at Kai.

Instead, I watched a bunch of videos when I got off work, like a self-respecting loser.

It’s a sickness really. But I just really like looking at him. Getting to know him hasn’t helped. I’ve gotten over that tiny little hurdle of guilt that stopped me watching the videos and now I’m back, and I’m ten times worse. My crush has become this endless circle of self-torture where I drool over his insane body, but also know just how nice he is too.

Because that’s the thing. I’m not saying that it wasn’t his incredible body that drew me in at first. It’s like his abs are a flower, luring in unsuspecting insects into its orbit, then snap! It traps them in its sticky web of being a really fucking awesome guy who laughs with youlike you’re the last two beings left on the planet. Or something. That analogy went kind of sideways, but the point is still there. He’s got me hooked and I can’t stop.

At least I’m not watching his videos right now. Maybe he knew somehow, and caught me in the spare thirty minutes between videos.

My neck is aching from how still I’ve been lying on my couch and I have to sit up to read his message. I read it over and over again, the simple words on the screen making my stomach roll and dip like I’m on a roller coaster.

A silly little message shouldn’t make me feel as giddy as I am right now, but I’ve got it bad—the ridiculous smile on my face is shameful. If I wasn’t due for some blood, I would definitely be blushing.

Crossing my legs under me, I consider how I’m going to reply, typing out a few messages before deleting them.

Came close to apocalyptic, but managed to save us all in the end.

Nerves fluttering, I hit send before I can overthink it.

But then I have to wait for his reply, so I end up overthinking it anyway, watching the screen do absolutely nothing like it’s life or death.

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