Page 68 of A Bond Beyond Blood
A week after the allegedvampire kinghad returned and beat me to a bloody pulp, I’d begun to feel better, my bruises fading with time and the deeper injuries healing with rest and relaxation.The stitches across my temple had already begun to fall out on their own—over here looking like Frankenstein’s monster, no doubt—and I was restless, though Vinny’s constant presence helped to make the time pass pleasantly enough.
Christmas had been a bust, which, when tallied up, made two in a row now that had been miserable for me, but now it was New Year’s Eve...
And I’d never felt less festive.
Even last year, the first New Year’s Eve after Dad died, I’d at leasttriedto go through the motions.If watching the ball drop from my brother Gio’s couch with a cheap bottle of bubbly from the bodega down the street could be consideredtrying.
In that year, I’d waited to confront the vampire who’d forced my father into a deal my family would never be free of, and the whole culmination of this past year led to somewhat of an anticlimactic end.Not that getting my ass kicked wasn’t significant, but I’d imagined that showdown with Eli going so many different ways.None of which left me bruised and battered—andhimcompletely unaffected.
Of course, it wasn’tallbad, I did have the world’s sexiest nursemaid, and I couldn’t complain about that.But Vinny, as wonderful and doting as he was, had been less than forthcoming about Eli, giving me bits and pieces of information but very obviously holding back.
And there’d been no sign of the so-called king ever since.He promised to return in afortnight, which was apparently an Old English term forfourteen nights—something I’d had to ask the internet because who talks like that anymore?—and so far, he’d kept his word.
Gannon hadn’t turned up again either, and though I knew that’s what I wanted—well, I knew that was what Ishouldwant—his absence irked me.He’d shown back up in my life out of nowhere, begging for a chance to explain his side of things, and I’d sent him away.As he deserved, thank you very much.
But...what?That’s it?That’show much he wanted me back?He just tried once and gave up without a fight?If I was honest with myself, the fact that he conceded that quickly hurt almost as badly as when he ghosted the first time.
Gannon’s second abandonment proved something I hated to admit: in his eyes, at least, I wasn’t worth fighting for.
‘When someone shows you who they are, Jack,’my father used to say, ‘never give them a chance to show you twice.’
Yeah, well, Dad was right.I probably needed to accept who Gannon is and move the hell on.
Speaking of moving on, before Eli showed up last week, I’d been doing just that.
With each breath, the scent of bacon filled my nose, curling down into my body and rousing my stomach.I’d been eating a bit more each day, healing slowly, and this morning, for the first time since the fight with Eli, my stomach had begun to growl loudly.
I was getting my hunger back, which meant my strength would follow.
Which meant I’d get to spar with Vinny again soon—among other things I wanted to do with his body.He’d been strict about his hands-off policy while I healed, but keeping my hands—and mouth, and body—to myself was proving more difficult with every passing hour.
I’d begun sleeping in the nude to entice him, but for someone who was constantly worried about losing control and taking things too far, who frequently reminded me thatIheld all the power in this dynamic,hisrestraint was infuriating.
The man had complete control; it was cute that he tried to convince me otherwise.
And every moment that he remained by my side, sharing my bed, caring for me, loving on me, and nursing me back to health made me want him even more.
We’d been dancing around our attraction for so damn long; now that I’d had a taste of that explosive chemistry, I wanted more.
I wanted all of it.All ofhim.
Gannon who?
Maybe Gannon didn’t care to fight for me, but Vinny hadn’t left my side.Wasting energy thinking about my ex-boyfriend was silly considering the man currently cooking breakfast down the hall.
And good grief, the man couldcook.It was hardly fair that Vinny was that beautifulandan incredible chef—who didn’t even want, nor need, the delicious meals he prepared.No, those were all for me.I’d had homemade soup and freshly-baked bread every day this week.
Just one of the many ways this man cared for me.
I climbed out of bed and pulled on my robe, tightening the belt around my waist as I strode down the hallway, pausing at the entrance to the kitchen and living area.
Vinny stood at my stove, his back to me, shirtless and beautiful as he prepared breakfast.The muscles across his shoulders flexed as he took a step back and flipped a couple of fried eggs in a pan.I bit down on my bottom lip to keep my smile at bay, leaning my shoulder against the wall as I watched him work.
On the tray he’d been using all week to feed me in bed, a plate had already been prepared with bacon and sourdough toast, a glass of orange juice, another glass of something green and murky that I’d no doubt hate the taste of—and he’d no doubt make me drink anyway—and a small vase with a single red rose that made my heart skip a beat.
My eyes found their way back to the man in my kitchen as he returned the egg pan to the burner, turned off the stove, and spun around.He was standing before me in a flash, his face mere inches from mine.
“Like what you see?”he murmured, his focus on my mouth.
