why go?” He was centimeters from her, not touching, but the heat of his body came at her in waves. And he was hard again. Naked women did that to mortals.
She leaned in to kiss his forehead. He moved and took her mouth with his, cupping the back of her head with his hand. Darn it! He all but marked her—opening her lips with his, taking her tongue deep into his mouth, rekindling wild sensations deep inside her, sending shivers over her with his fingers, and leaving her mind racing and her reason fogged. But not completely.
“See?” he said, lifting his mouth off hers. “Wouldn’t you rather stay?”
What she’d rather do and what she was going to do were two very different things. “I never stay.”
A flash of hurt crossed his dark eyes. “Never’s a very long time.”
As if any mortal really understood the meaning of “a long time.” But she couldn’t just walk out, not after…not after the most incredible lovemaking she’d known in centuries, if ever. “Michael, I have to go. I just do. No reflection on you, or…” she paused, “what we just shared. I just don’t ever stay the night.”
He nodded but said nothing, as if biting back words. She discarded her ripped underwear but pulled on the two ripped halves of her slacks and looked around vainly for something to run through the loops and hold them together.
“You’re not really going out like that?”
“Since I didn’t bring a change of clothes, yes.”
He made an exasperated sound. “Hang on. If you insist”—he rummaged in his drawers—“wear these.” He handed a folded teeshirt and a pair of well-worn but clean workman’s overalls. Too big by far, but unlikely to fall off. “Put them on, and I’ll take you home.”
“That isn’t necessary.”
“Put them on, dammit, and I am taking you home!” He tossed them on the rumpled bed and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Turn around.”
“Ever thought of saying ‘please’?”
He took a deep breath. It made his cock jerk. “Please turn around.”
“Why?”
He gave a long, exasperated-sounding sigh. “I want to look at your back. I think I scratched it.”
She remembered his nails raking her back, but any marks were long healed. “I’m alright.”
Without asking again, he spun her round and succeeded. Hand on her shoulder holding her steady, he licked up her back, his tongue warm but rough. What shocked her most was the realization that her back was scratched and the scratches unhealed. She felt them close as his tongue traced them. Three, four times he licked and then brushed a couple of smaller spots.
She was hallucinating! Had to be. She was vampire. She healed on her own! How could a mere mortal do what he did?
“Better get dressed,” he said, stepping away and taking his warmth with him. “Before I throw you back in bed.”
He left her alone while she put on the borrowed clothes. She looked around for her discarded shoes. Stepping onto them, she noticed they were caked with mud. Hardly surprising given the fields and woods she’d crossed.
So Michael Langton was taking her home. How mortal! She had other ideas. She opened the bedroom window wide, leapt out, and, in seconds, was running at vamp speed toward the village.
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