Page 38 of Tempting the Dhampir

Chapter twenty-one

Sadie

Everett is great. He’s a masterful flirt and hits me with all the banter. He’s freakishly good-looking, like can’t-stop-staring, want-to-lick-him-from-head-to-toe gorgeous. But more than that, he’s kind. He’s so considerate and predicts my needs even before I know what I want to request. It’s unreal. He’s unreal.

If I’m not careful, I’m going to start catching feelings, and I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m only here for a short while before I return to my very normal, nonglamorous life in small-town Kentucky, possibly teaching fourth graders again.

I’m going to focus on fun, flirt up a storm, and enjoy the attention while it lasts. Going to keep this heart safe.

I spent all afternoon going through my clothes, which were already hanging in my closet. Apparently, Pierce had raced ahead with our luggage while we took the scenic route. The magical faeries—not real faeries, just Everett’s staff—unpacked everything for me before we arrived.

Opting for a gold sequined miniskirt and a backless black top, I look at my limited shoe options. Thank fuck I brought my dependable and versatile black strappy stilettos with the three-inch heel.

I might have to go shopping soon. My current clothing choices are more suited for a tropical holiday, not the level of glitz and glam that Vegas requires. My usual preferences do have more sequins and shine than the average wardrobe, but if I’m going to be here, I want to go all out and live my best sparkly life.

I don’t think I can afford to buy a new wardrobe, but maybe I could do a Vegas capsule collection. Or maybe they have rental shops for women like me, here for a short-term visit and in need of glitter-fying themselves. It would be awfully convenient.

Once I’m completely satisfied with my makeup, my curtain bangs are curled just the way I like, and my outfit has passed the three-sixty assessment in front of the mirror, I leave the room in search of Everett.

What I see, though, freezes my feet to the ground. My mouth hangs open, and saliva pools in my mouth.

Everett in a towel.

Only a towel.

Wet from the shower.

I’m committing this sight to memory. Excellent spank-bank material.

He sees me and swaggers his way over. Pausing awfully close, he places his hand under my chin and tilts my head up. With his thumb, he brushes the corner of my lips and whispers, “You had a little drool there.”

Smug as hell, he turns around and swaggers back to his room, but not before he undoes his towel and lets it fall to the ground.

His ass is what inspires sculptors to create masterpieces. I’m not even ashamed of my ogling.

“See something you like, sparkles?” Everett looks over his shoulder, eyebrows raised, confident with his body—the picture of male perfection.

“Very much so. And you obviously know it.” He was honest earlier, so this time it’s my turn.

“I do.” And with that, he moves to the opposite side, giving me a profile shot of what he’s packing.

I’m intrigued. That thing is a weapon, and he’s only sporting a semi.

Nevertheless, it’s a weapon that I would like to rearrange my guts.

Trying to seem cool, like I see dicks that size on the regular, I throw out, “Better pack that anaconda away, don’t want to scare the grannies at the slots.”

His low laugh follows me on my way to the balcony, where I stop to take in the lights once again. I don’t think it’s possible for me to grow tired of this sight. Ever.

Such a pity that this little fantasy of playing house will come to an end pretty soon.

Chapter twenty-two

Chat Log

Sadie: CECE!

Sadie: I’m dead. Deceased.

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