Page 56 of Sleepless Beauties
Kira
I need help. I hate that I just admitted that to myself, let alone anyone else. But I need someone who knew Kyra to tell me what she liked, where she spent her time, and what she did here.
I find Prey still in the dining hall. His inky locks are shoved this way and that, but he doesn’t notice me as he downs a full glass of blood.
Gag.
I keep walking. He isn’t the help I need right now. He’s the mess I need to avoid.
As a matter of fact, asking him any question would likely end in either one of our deaths or… sex. God, what if we fucked? Oh no. What if I liked it? Could I really stand to hate him by day and pray he finds my g-spot by night?
No.
Well... Maybe…
NO! For feminists everywhere, no!
But think of my poor, isolated g-spot. Do it for the orgasm. Do it for the O, Kira. Do it…
No!
I roll my eyes at myself and remember how Acessa offered to walk me to my room. Kyra’s room. That would be a good start. Even if I can’t ask her personal things about Kyra, at least she’d take me there. But how do I get her to make that offer again?
Shit.
I keep brainstorming as I wander upstairs. The lights are off on this side of the church, so it’s getting darker as I walk, so dark I can’t see where I’m going. But I suppose that doesn’t matter much to supernaturals or nocturnal creatures who thrive in the night. My palm hovers over the railing to guide me up the last few steps and when I reach the soft carpet of the hall, my chest collides into something hard.
Something ominous and looming, and just close enough to make me stumble back… onto nothing.
My heels clatter over the lower step, but my weight pulls me back further. Gravity tugs right through my chest and the air in my lungs abandon me as I go down.
But then a strong arm wraps around my waist. I’m flung up in an instant, and my hands cling tightly to the soft cotton shirt I find myself pressing against.
Thrilled terror slams through me from the possibility of nearly dying, not by the fangs of a vampire, but my own mortal clumsiness.
Then… who’s holding me right now?
I’m living in a house with an unknown killer, and right now I could be holding him close like some kind of savior.
I shove swiftly out of his arms and stumble away until my back hits the wall.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Aston whispers.
“You mean kill me? You almost killed me!”
A breathy laugh rumbles over his lips. “Well, you are a vampire. A fall like that would hardly kill you… Right?” He asks me in a taunting way.
Like I might just slip up and confess all my secrets at his feet.
“If you’re done being a passive aggressive ass, I’d like to go to my room now.” I move past him, not even giving him a second glance.
“In the front house?”
My steps falter once more.
…the what?
I turn on the sharp heels of my shoes and really look at the shine of his eyes within the shadows. Even in the dark, he’s all cruel lines and sharp smiles. Why are all these vampires so condescendingly cocky?
