Page 8 of The Devil and the Dancer
If only it was a matter of what she wanted.
“Anyway…” Gavin poured warm water over shoulders that had gone cold. “Ben has that look. I always assumed he’d had a hard childhood. He used to be much easier to read, you know. He’s a bit foggy now.”
“Foggy?”
“Give him a few years and he’ll be as hard to read as his uncle. Of course, he’ll likely be a vampire by then. Are you ready for that?”
Chloe’s eyes went wide and she spun around. Her head was full, examining the layers of everything sex with Gavin would entail. What did he mean?Was she ready for that?Did he expect her to become a vampire? Did hewanther to? Did that mean he wanted them to be more? What didmoreeven mean?
“Ready forwhat?” she asked.
Gavin frowned. “For Ben to be a vampire.”
Her heart slowed down. “Oh. That.”
His eyebrows went up. “Did you think—?”
“No, of course not.”
“Because that’s… that’s a conversation.”
God, let me die now. Twenty-five years has been long enough. This wouldn’t be a bad time to go.“I didn’t. I mean, I don’t… That’s not something we need to talk about.”
Yes, please. Just let me die.
“Ever?” Gavin stared at her, that deep, penetrating stare that asked Chloe for everything and offered more than she was ready to receive.
“Don’t ask me yet,” she whispered.Okay God. Never mind. I could use a few more years.
Gavin touched her chin with the tip of his finger, drew it up and around her lips, tracing the sensitive outline before he leaned in and took her mouth. His kiss spun her around and unraveled her. Every time. She could feel the iron control in his shoulders when she placed her hands there. Feel the desire he leashed for her.
The quick inhale at her neck. The tightening fist in her hair. He pulled her to straddle his waist, holding her thigh just above the knee. His hand, like the rest of him, was just as controlled. Firm grip on heated flesh.
Chloe was the soft to his hard, melting into his chest and letting her muscles rest against his. Her breasts to his chest. Her mouth soft and yielding to his.
He pulled away. “Chloe, ye make ma heid mince.”
She leaned forward and pressed her face into his neck, putting her lips against the place where his heart should beat. It only gave the occasional flutter, usually when he was aroused.
Why do you still wait, Gavin Wallace? Haven’t you gotten tired of me yet?
She didn’t say those things—didn’t even want to think them—but they were the voice in her head. The constant, nagging whisper that tried to convince her she shouldn’t get too attached, shouldn’t let her guard down too much.
He ran his fingers up and down her spine, massaging the bare edge of her glute with such perfect pressure she wanted him to go farther down. Under the bathing suit. Bare skin to bare skin.
And then what?
Chloe took a deep breath and lay against his chest, allowing herself the pleasure of his touch for as long as he was willing to offer it.
Gavin was a dazzling predator, a powerful and rich immortal with connections she knew nothing about and influence she didn’t stop to ponder. He didn’t flaunt any of it. He wore power like one of his perfectly tailored suits.
He’ll get bored with you eventually. Probably right after you agree to have sex with him.
He didn’t push, and she hesitated. They were in stalemate, a pair of would-be lovers, both too cautious to make the first move after months and months of foreplay. She didn’t know what kind of status she had in Gavin’s world other than she was under Ben’s uncle’s aegis and vampires at the bar no longer flirted with her.
At all.
She knew they considered her Gavin’s… something. She had no idea what that something was. No doubt they assumed she was his lover. That they slept together. That he fed from her.
