Page 31 of Lucien

“Why are you making the bed when we’re just gonna get in it and mess it all up again?”

It hadn’t taken Jamie nearly as long as he’d thought it would to convince Luc to stay the night. Apparently his vampire had meant it about the staying close and touching thing.

And ohhh, the touching. Jamie had liked thatveryfucking much. He shivered a little at the memory of the bite in particular.

Who knew getting your blood sucked could feel like some sort of…neck blow job?

Luc finished smoothing down the bedsheets, straightening the bedspread and folding back the top corner like this was a bed-and-breakfast and not Jamie’s actual home. “I prefer not to sleep on wrinkles,” he explained.

Such a snob.

But any further complaints or teasing immediately fled Jamie’s brain as Luc started efficiently unbuttoning his shirt, undressing in front of Jamie like it was no big deal and not something Jamie had been waiting for a glimpse of for-fucking-ever.

As Luc shed his clothes down to his briefs, Jamie was finally—finally—getting a look of that imposing body up close and personal.

And it was worth the fuckingwait.

He reminded Jamie of a boxer: well muscled, defined, sleek. With an underlying brutality. A violence hovering just under the surface of all that smoking hotness.

If Jamie knew how to wolf whistle, he totally would have done one of those.

But he didn’t, so—“Whoa,” he breathed out instead, watching the play of those muscles as Luc meticulously folded all his removed clothing.

Luc shot him a smirk, placing the pile neatly on top of Jamie’s dresser. “Now, now, flower. Get that lustful look off your face. Otherwise, you won’t be getting any sleep at all tonight.”

“I’m good with that.” Jamie slipped off his own shirt easily, loving the heat that entered Luc’s eyes at even that small reveal. Jamie wasn’t built, not like his vampire, but Luc didn’t seem to mind his leanness one bit.

“I’mnot,” Luc chastised, despite the lust in his gaze. “It’s almost dawn as it is. We must take care of your precious mortal body.”

Jamie shrugged, tossing his shirt on the floor, laughing at the disgruntled look Luc shot it. “This is pretty much my regular bedtime.”

Luc cocked a brow. “A night owl, are you?” He smiled, slow and sweet—a rare sight. “Perfect for me in every way.”

Warmth rushed through Jamie at the praise. He wasn’t quite sure how or why his vampire had gone from gun-shy to having this all-in mentality, but he was more than fine with it. He was simultaneously preparing himself for the possibility that Luc would balk again. Retreat in some way. It was clear his monster had his fair share of skeletons in his immortal closet, messing with his poor head.

Jamie flopped onto the bed, sprawling on top of those neatly pressed covers. Mostly just to see the flash of annoyance cross Luc’s face. He grinned up at his snobby vampire. “Speaking of perfect for each other. Tell me about mates. You’ve mentioned them more than once now.”

Luc sighed deeply, clearly annoyed with Jamie’s insistence on talking over sleeping, and then joined Jamie on the bed—his approach much more graceful—settling onto his back and folding his arms behind his head. Jamie took a moment to appreciate the way it made his biceps and pecs bunch and flex. Luc looked like a king. A super sexy, muscular king with a body that wouldn’t fucking quit.

Not the time, horndog.Right. Jamie shut his slack jaw, turned onto his side, propped his head on one hand, and tried to focus on Luc’s answer to his question.

“My kind are immortal, but our longevity has other…limits,” Luc explained, staring up at the ceiling. “Over time, we lose ourselves more and more to the vampire instincts inside us. To our monsters. We become more beast than man, driven by bloodlust and little else.”

How incredibly metal of them.

“And that…kills you, somehow?” Jamie asked.

Luc shook his head. “Not as such. But the lack of discretion risks exposure for all. A feral vampire will be put down by others of our kind eventually. For the greater good.”

Thatpart Jamie definitely did not like. The thought of Luc—seductive, temperamental, overly complicated Luc—being put down like a dog…

Not on Jamie’s fucking watch; that was for sure.

“How much time do you have?” he asked.

“I couldn’t say. It varies from vampire to vampire. I’ve heard of some lasting less than a century, others for over five hundred years.”

As if Jamie cared about the fucking statistics. “How much time doyouhave, monster?”

---