Page 134 of Fangs and Fudge

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “Are you crazy?”

“It’s almost time for the meeting,” he said. “But I wanted to see you first.”

“You’ve seen me. Now go before they pick up your scent.”

“I will as soon as I take care of something.”

“What?”

I felt a light wisp of breath along my neck and then the barest caress of his tongue as it traveled along the sore spots where MC had drawn blood. The tingle of Cross’ healing touch flowed in more places than just my neck.

My hands lifted to his shoulders. He made a soft sound, and his lips closed on my skin, sucking gently. I couldn’t control my erratic breathing or the way my leg hooked over his hip. His hand gripped my leg, pulling me closer so our hips touched.

His mouth left my neck and claimed mine. He made my pulse race with his kiss and the feel of his weight rolling toward me.

“First house rule: Not while we’re in bed together,” Vena grumbled. “Get your own room.”

Cross tore his mouth from mine and glared at her with black eyes.

I cupped his cheeks to bring his attention back to me.

“You should go,” I said gently.

His gaze swept over my face, and he dipped his head to kiss me softly.

“Soon.”

That single word sent a shiver through me as he disappeared.

“How does it feel to be clam-jammed?” Vena said sleepily.

“Good,” I said. “I would have regretted it just like you would have.”

“That’s all hypothetical until we test it.”

I sat up and got out of bed.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“I told Shepard I wanted to be there for the meeting. I want to know what he’s going to do about the vampires.”

“All the vampires or just one?” Vena asked.

“Just get out of bed and get ready. The sooner we know what’s going on, the sooner we can go home.”

“I don’t want to go home,” she said as she got out of bed.

“Lies. You don’t want to leave Anchor, which I don’t think will happen. If we go home, there will be fewer eyes to see what you do to him and fewer ears to hear it.”

“You think he’ll come back with us?” she asked, a hint of her uncertainty in her tone. “With me?”

I turned to her and took her by the shoulders.

“Vena, he never left. He was kidnapped. There’s a difference.”

She nodded, but I could see she didn’t believe me.

“You’ll see for yourself,” I said, ditching my pajamas for the clothes Lisa had given us last night. As soon as my head cleared my shirt, I turned to Vena. She was wearing a pair of loose-fitting jeans that had her frowning.

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