Page 37 of Soren

Soren tucked his head back into Gabe’s body, directing his words there. “You’re sex-drunk. I’m not sure you know what you’re saying. If you still want to tomorrow, I will.”

Gabe felt something warm unfurl in his chest. Here Gabe was offering himself up on a platter, and Soren was giving him time to back out. Gabe knew he wouldn’t, but the thoughtfulness behind the move had him pulling Soren even closer.

“You and your cuddling,” Soren griped.

But he didn’t pull away.

nine

Soren

Sorenfuckinglovedthemodern world. The freeness with which humans were now able to live and love and fuck whomever and however they liked.

It wasn’t perfect, obviously. Prejudices still existed, and people still suffered for their own desires in a multitude of unfair ways, but it was miles away from the uptight eras of the past. Soren had hated the fifties in particular. A goddamn terrible decade, in his less-than-humble opinion.

He eyed the gyrating bodies through the flashing lights of the club. He was watching one couple more than the others, a particularly attractive pair of men who were grinding up against each other. He reveled in the blatant lust radiating off of them.

Soren didn’twantthem, not really. He didn’t want to take them home and play with them in tandem in the way he might have in the past.

But he liked watching them.

He tore his eyes away and searched the crowd for the one hedidwant.

There.

Gabe was squeezing his way through the pulsing bodies on the dance floor, a beer in one hand and a cocktail in the other. Soren drank in the delectable sight of him.

He had let Soren dress him. The human had grumbled against it, of course, but in the end, he’d complied beautifully anyway.

And Soren had shown such restraint, really.

He’d kept it simple, decking Gabe out in a pair of tight black jeans and an even tighter black T-shirt, putting Gabe’s golden skin and lickable muscles on delicious display. The black set off the human’s dark curls, which he’d let Soren put a little gel in, slicking them back from his face.

Soren’s cock twitched as he admired his sartorial work. The human looked like walking sex.

As did Soren, obviously. He’d decided to play into the drama of the night—the night where Gabe was going to let Soren bite him—and was wearing tight leather pants with a sheer baby-blue long-sleeved top. A dash of black eyeliner set off his pale-blue eyes, making them practically glow.

Gabe had swallowed hard at the sight of him, and Soren had been tempted to forgo going out at all. To feed at home after feasting on Gabe’s body in…other ways.

Feeding on Gabe. What a fucking concept.

Soren had been stunned at the offer, honestly. The night before had been a bit of a whirlwind in more than one way. First there had been Gabe’s unexpected jealousy. Soren had thought they were backsliding—that Gabe was upset at the thought of Soren, resident monster, drinking the blood of someone he knew. He’d been tickled pink to realize it was simple jealousy over Gabe thinking Soren had fucked Monroe.

As if Soren would ever have such poor taste.

But the fact that Gabe wanted Soren enough to wish him to forgo not only sleeping with other people but also drinking anyone else’s blood was a heady thing. It was frankly ridiculous that Soren had even had the restraint to give Gabe a day to think it over. His inner vamp had been raging, not used to being denied something Soren wanted so very much.

But, watching his handsome human move through the crowd, Soren was starting to think good things came to those who waited.

Gabe finally reached their little table, setting the two drinks down before sliding into the booth next to Soren, both of them facing out to the crowd. He nodded to the couple Soren had been watching, who were now making out somewhat ferociously, practically humping each other on the dance floor. “Do you know them?”

Soren shook his head, grinning at his human. “No. I just like towatch.” He put deliberate emphasis on the last word, making it sound as salacious as possible. He kept a careful eye on Gabe’s expression, looking for any signs of disgust or jealousy.

It was one thing for Gabe to be jealous of Soren fucking someone else—after all, Soren didn’t want Gabe fucking anyone else either, as the idea made him positively murderous—but it was another for him to want Soren to act like some kind of monk.

Some kind ofangel.

But Gabe just nodded, smiling almost shyly around a sip of his beer. “They’re a beautiful couple. Did you want to go dance?”

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