Page 23 of A Sip of Sin

“I can’t bring myself to bite you,” said Munro, his voice cracking as he tried to stay quiet. “My world could be ending because of you, and I can’t even bite you.”

Chapter Eleven

Hollen

He couldn’t ever remember being this cold before. His limbs were shaking, his teeth chattering in that painful way that made them clack together. Every muscle ached, pulled taut and twitching as his skin prickled and burned. Feeling a swallowed ice cube slide down his throat was a small taste compared to the absolute frigidness that stuck to every limb.

The worst part was the absolute block of heat he was pressed against. It made the shudders worse, assaulting his flesh until his nerves were nearly on fire. It felt similar to letting an ice water settle against his teeth after a long drink of hot coffee—so excruciating that his eyes watered and his toes curled.

He let out a groan, trying to push away from the furnace he was pressed against. His eyelids were too heavy to open, even when his limbs failed him. There were iron bars of warmth wrapped around him, pressing his arms into his sides with supreme strength.

Letting out a whimper, he winced, trying to break free. It had to be some sort of prison or something like a tanning bed gone wrong where he was trapped beneath the burning lights. Only his last memory was of an alley and a familiar voice.

Hollen curled his hands into fists, the joints in his finger protesting the move. His body was useless, his mind buzzing likehe’d just rolled through a heap of garbage, most of it sticking to his skin and coating him in absolute filth.

He remembered the club, the staggering exhaustion, and how George had slipped away in the strange way he did when speaking became too much for him. He seemed to grow tired, the same way Hollen did, almost disappearing altogether some nights as he retreated into Hollen’s chest or mind. The only evidence that he was still there was the steady throb of his presence—a heartbeat that wasn’t his own.

Even now, he could barely feel George’s presence.

“Be still.”

Hollen jerked at the familiar voice, renewing his weak struggles. He wasn’t sure how Munro had gotten into his apartment, but he couldn’t refute the evidence. The vampire washere, in his bed that was much softer than he remembered.

“Get out,” said Hollen, trying to kick the man against him.Did he drug me at the club?He’d been so careful, pouring his own glass of water from the bathroom sink after the bartender had given him a leery look when he’d requested a drink.

His bare feet struck shins that may as well have been stone for how firm they were, his toes instantly aching. “If you bite me, I’ll…I’ll… I don’t know what I’ll do, but you won’t like it.”

He curled his fingers, dragging his short nails over the skin of Munro’s chest. Munro was naked—as shockingly naked as he was. “George!”

“Calm down,” said Munro. Somehow, he became even heavier, pinning Hollen to the soft surface of the bed. His sheets smelled of tea and lavender instead of the usual cheap laundry detergent. Or maybe that was just Munro’s scent from how he was pressed so close to him, his body heat raging against Hollen.I thought vampires were supposed to be cold.

Munro let out a grunt as Hollen scraped him with his nails, capturing his wrist and clamping down tight. “I won’t bite you.”

“You’re thinking about it.” Hollen’s heart pounded so hard it hurt. Maybe he’d been drugged, and he’d come back here for a job, ending up naked and on his way to bloodless instead of employed. “You and all your friends looked like you wanted to eat me, and now I’m naked in bed? I don’t think so, mister.”

Munro’s lack of an answer was proof enough. Hollen kicked and squirmed until his muscles ached, shivering so hard that his teeth clacked together. The thick film of exhaustion swept over him the same way it had in the alley, stifling his movements. His sides heaved as he gasped for air, his eyes still closed tight against the dim light.

Munro had barely moved, his limbs locked over Hollen’s and curated of pure strength. If Hollen hadn’t already known he was a vampire, he would have guessed it then. He was squirmy as hell, and anyone who could hold onto that had to be unnatural.

His breath stuttered as he squinted his eyes open, freezing at the unfamiliar ceiling.This is so much worse than I thought.

Above him was smooth plaster, thin strips of dark wood trimming the perimeter and etched with designs that he’d never seen in any lumber store. Two lamps lit the room that was slightly larger than his own in the apartment, one flickering slightly as he whimpered.

The bed had dark burnished-bronze sheets, the wooden columns of the four-poster stretching nearly to the ceiling. It was close, the air tight and only accentuated by the lack of windows. There were no pictures, no paintings—only the etched designs. Even the doors were made of thick material, looking heavier than the outside door of his apartment.

Hollen looked to the side, craning his neck away from Munro. He couldn’t look at him, even if it put his neck on wide display. “Did I get drunk?”

He swallowed hard, curling his fingers into his palm when he realized that his hand was still pressed to Munro’s naked chest. His fingers ached as he moved them, so cold that the tips tingled.

When he moved his foot, twitching his knee, he realized he was completely naked like he’d thought, the usual elastic of his boxers not digging into his skin and his socks gone from his naked toes. He couldn’t tell if Munro was in the same state completely, but everywhere they touched, there was molten heat lancing into him. “Oh, God.”

He closed his eyes, taking an inventory of his body, even as he felt Munro’s gaze on him. He couldn’t meet that ice-blue stare that had only looked at him with interest once.

His ass wasn’t sore, which was a good sign, but that wouldn’t happen if he’d topped, or if Munro had been really,reallygentle.

In fact, nothing but the cold seemed off, unless he wanted to count his own half-hard cock that was taking an interest to how intimately Munro was pinning him with his thigh. He wet his lips, stifling a groan when his whole body twitched.

“Rhys…invited you over,” said Munro, his deep voice rumbling against Hollen’s ear. It was softer than Hollen remembered, filled with something like wonder. No one had ever sounded like that when talking to him—not even Adair.

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