Page 56 of My Road Trip with a Vampire: Season One
I back away as his broad shoulders shake, but my feet are stuck. The curtains flap in the breeze, the sunlight fading to something foggy and gray.
The man turns around, looking over his shoulder as the floorboards creak beneath me. I catch the sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, and the dark fringe of lashes that curl dramatically in the light. The features are familiar but seem so different on a body that’s living, breathing, weeping.
Dennis.
He sniffs and looks in my direction, pain on his face and a bloody handprint on his shoulder.
“What have you done?” he asks, and I catch the hint of a lilt in his accent, something I can’t quite place.
I open my mouth but no words come out. I can’t stay here. Not when the world outside the window is turning gray and reeks of death.
“Why? Why would you do this?” he asks, his face crumbling, and I realize he’s looking through me.
I feel the presence of someone standing behind me, and fear pins me to the spot. I turn my head slowly, not sure I want to see what’s there, but have to look. I only see the man’s suit, his slim build, and the wide smile spiked with fangs before something yanks me from the vision.
Cold hands run down my back, and I’m soothed by the touch.
We’re in bed, and Dennis has his forehead pressed to mine. His eyes are only half open as he searches my face. The weird sensation that hums through me makes me feel like this could be a dream too, but he looks like himself now. The steel in his expression makes me doubt he’s ever cried in any lifetime.
“Did something frighten you?” he asks.
“No.” I sigh through my nose. “Maybe a little. It was a weird dream.”
I don’t want to go into detail about it since it involved him and felt so real.
“Hmm,” he says, running his hand back up to rest between my shoulder blades.
“Why do you ask?”
“I could feel it.”
Oh yeah. The blood bond.
Maybe that’s why his calm demeanor wraps around me like a silk sheet and dulls the spike of anxiety in my belly. His body is cool to the touch where he brushes against me, which happens to be everywhere.
I snap my eyes fully open.
I’m one hundred percent sure I fell asleep with my back turned to him, but now we’re all twined together. One of my legs is nestled between his, and his dick is hard against my thigh. Neither of us seems to be doing anything to untangle our limbs.
“Dennis,” I whisper.
“It’s ok,” he says, sensing my confusion and frustration. “It will pass.”
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
I get a chill when his breath hits my lips. We’re close enough to kiss like this, and I realize we haven’t yet, but I want to. Nothing sounds better than getting lost in a deep kiss with him. I wonder how many hours we could kill if we were to open the curtains and let the moonlight pour over the bed.
He brings his hand back over my shoulder, skimming his fingers along my collarbone, then down to my tit where he rubs a circle over my nipple before diving down to flick it with his tongue.
It’s not a kiss, but it draws a moan from me. I work my hands into his thick dark hair, pulling him closer as a fang grazes my sensitive skin.
“Fuck,” I breathe, not sure what I want from him. I have questions to ask, but none of them seem more important than what we’re doing now. Every touch sends me rolling through the waves of what we’re feeling.
A knock on the door pulls me from the depths of my thoughts.
Dennis is already sitting up, working his lips over his teeth as he closes his eyes. I look away from the sheets draped over his hips, doing everything I can to steady my breath and the heartbeat pounding in my ears.
