Page 38 of Taken By The Vampire King

I rolled over, not quite ready to wake up but also not still sleepy enough to drift away again. I tucked my nose back under the thick comforter and prepared to just rest, but something in the luxurious room felt different.

Something was out of place.

It was completely quiet, but a presence lingered on the periphery of my mind. I didn’t feel alone, and I slowly opened one eye, finding myself peering through slightly blurry vision at Nicolas, who was sitting in a chair close by, revealed by the half-light making it past the edges of the curtains.

I stifled a gasp and opened the other eye, then just watched him for a moment. He didn’t move; his eyes were closed, and his chest rose and fell steadily. It was safe to surmise he was asleep and unaware of my perusal. Well, scrutiny was more accurate than perusal, especially with the way his unbuttoned shirt revealed the beginning of a tattoo over his left pectoral muscle.

He was still in last night’s clothes, and tousled was a good look on him. I hadn’t really taken an opportunity before now to study him closely, but this was like a free pass. He actually looked peaceful without the usually-present lines of tension around his mouth and eyes. Sleep had smoothed him out.

I shifted and bit back a groan as my body protested the movement, a series of aches echoing through me. When had the truck come rumbling through the bedroom and run me over?

Had I had too much to drink in New Orleans? I could just about remember the restaurant, but then things got a little fuzzy. Why was Nicolas here looking all rumpled and uncomfortable…and actually kind of sexy?

That tattoo drew my attention again. It disappeared under the black fabric of his shirt in the most tantalizing way. Made me want to follow it…with my tongue. I closed my eyes against the unexpected thought and the image it conjured.

Carefully, quietly, so the rustling covers didn’t disturb him—and so none of my movements hurt—I shifted my legs until I was sitting on the edge of the bed. Then I held my breath as uncertainty seized me. What the hell was I thinking?

For a few moments, I just sat and watched Nicolas, and lust unfurled lazy fingers low in my abdomen. My gaze wandered to his tattoo again and again, the dark ink against his skin more tempting to explore than I’d have believed possible.

I flicked my tongue over my lips and stood, reaching behind myself to the mattress as I found my balance. Releasing a long, slow exhale, I waited some more, convincing myself he’d wake and find me watching him.

But he didn’t, and my desire to know what his tattoo was overrode all of my misgivings and my common sense. I took a step closer, between his spread legs, and I rested my palm on the chair behind him as I gently teased the open front of his shirt from his body.

Then I frowned. It was a shield and some sort of… I squinted, taking in the delicate lines that formed a…fleur-de-lis, only it was so ornate, the top petal almost resembled a vulva. And below that delicate script drifted across his skin. Ego So…

“Good morning.” His low voice seemed to vibrate through me, and I let go of his shirt as my knees buckled and I sat in his lap, directly on his right thigh.

My breath whooshed out of me, and his arms wrapped around my waist until we were face to face and he opened his eyes, suddenly pinning me with a soft gray gaze. And it wasn’t stormy like usual. It was gentle and comforting.

“Shit,” I gasped. “Fuck. I… Sorry. I’m sorry. I—”

The corner of his mouth lifted in an amused smirk, and his arms tightened almost imperceptibly.

Too close. He was too close. Oh, fuck. I burned for him. My body was on fire, heat whipping over my skin and right through me, my clit pulsing like a second heartbeat.

I pressed my hand against his chest to push away, create some space between us, but his body heat seared my palm. “I…” But I had nothing to say. I wanted to do bad things to this man, and my throat dried as I imagined all the places I wanted to touch him and him to touch me, and I looked away in case he saw all of that in my eyes.

One month. That was the contract I’d signed. Just one month. And I’d been the one to state no sex. There could be no sex. No bad things, no matter how needy my body turned out to be.

My fucking traitorous body.

But I sucked in a breath, hoping to find both oxygen and resolve in the air. I just needed to keep up my end of the deal. One month. Then I’d be free and clear. Homeowner, business owner, and able to reclaim and rebuild the legacy of my family. Of Mom.

My future was so close I could almost touch it. I couldn’t ruin it.

Nicolas began to draw circles on my back, and despite myself, I relaxed against him, craving more of his touch.

Wanting him.

I wanted his hands lower, on my ass. Higher—on my breasts, teasing my nipples. My eyes slid closed, and I parted my lips, barely smothering a moan before it escaped and revealed too much about my state of mind.

When I looked at him again, his eyes were almost sleepy, and he watched me, his gaze kind and expression unguarded. I leaned in closer as if there was a magnetism between us that I was powerless to resist.

Shit. I needed to get up.

Like, I really needed to get up, not lean so close to Nicolas that our lips almost touched.

But I couldn’t.

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