Page 42 of The Painter and His Poet

“He won’t say anything,” Sterling replies.

“But–”

“Trust me, okay?” he adds, before blowing out a rough breath to regain some composure. “I need to let him in.”

“Okay.” I nod, pressing my palms against my skirt, trying to flatten out the creases as he unlocks the door.

“Come in,” Sterling says, briefly coasting his fingers over my hip as I move aside.

Dalton enters, his brows lifting as he takes in our appearance and we both try, and evidently fail, to hide what’s just occurred between us.

“Your parents are looking for you both,” he says, eyeing us with barely veiled amusement.

“We were just talking,” I mumble.

Dalton’s gaze falls to Sterling’s crotch and the very noticeable erection forming a tent of his trousers. Sterling doesn’t even try to hide it, he just glares at his friend in challenge.

“Of course you were,” Dalton smirks.

“Don’t start with me today, Dalton,” Sterling grinds out. “You are in no position to judge.”

“My lips are sealed,” he replies, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“Oh God,” I murmur.

“Though I should warn you,” he continues, looking pointedly at us both, “Everyone’s about to sit down to eat. If you don’t show your faces soon, people will start to talk.”

“I should go,” I say, my heart pounding as I step towards the door and avoid Dalton’s gaze.

“You might want to clean up first,” Dalton says, resting his hand briefly against my arm as his gaze falls to my neck.

“Clean up what?” I murmur, reaching up to press my fingers against the spot he’s staring at. When I pull my fingers away, there’s blood. I glance at Sterling’s hand and the blood seeping through the material he’d wrapped around it. “Shit.”

“Let me deal with that,” Sterling says, his eyes flickering with an intense kind of heat as he steps towards me.

“I can manage,” I whisper, as he grasps my hand and shakes his head.

“It’s my blood. Letmedeal with it,” he insists, his voice hoarse as he lifts my fingers to his mouth and draws them between his lips, sucking his blood from my skin.

I gasp as desire licks down my spine in a dangerous caress.

“Fuuuuccckkk, Sterling,” Dalton mutters, and my gaze ping-pongs from Sterling to Dalton and back again. “That was actually kind of hot.”

“Shut the fuck up, Dalton,” he grinds out, his eyes still fixed on mine.

Heat blazes between us, and I honestly don’t know what to say. I’m not even sure I could find the right words. I feel so tongue-tied. He just licked his blood from my fingers, and I am…turned on.

“You should let me go,” I whisper, my chest heaving as Sterling licks his lips, stepping closer as he releases my hand.

“I’m not done.”

“But–”

The rest of my protest is caught in my throat as he gently sweeps my hair over my shoulder, then leans in. As Sterling angles his body towards mine and presses the flat of his tongue against my skin, I’m too stunned to do anything other than remain perfectly still. Red hot lust fires through my body, and for the briefest of moments my eyes flutter shut.

“Oh,” I breathe out, completely forgetting Dalton is still in the same room as Sterling licks his blood right off my skin, his free hand squeezing my hip possessively.

“There,” he hums against my neck, pressing a brief kiss against my thready pulse before leaning back. “All better now.”

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