Page 48 of Hot Blooded
“No,” I insist. “It’s cold out. I’m not dragging you out into the dark tonight.”
Her mind is made up. Tressa crosses the room efficiently and slips on her coat. “Come on. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can be alone again.”
Deciding I like that plan, I don’t argue with her.
We retrieve my drunken brother from the bar downtown where he's waiting for us on the curb. I’m planning to take him to his condo on the edge of town, but Tressa, being Tressa is worried and insists we bring him home with us.
“He can sleep on the couch,” she says, patting my arm reassuringly.
“Or one of the seven guest rooms,” Alastair says, his voice slurring slightly around the words.
Fifteen minutes later, we're home, and while Tressa opens the door, I help Alastair inside the darkened foyer.
The house is quiet as we enter and make our way through. Alastair mumbles something to himself and heads off toward the guest quarters at the far end of the hall.
“Goodnight,” Tressa calls after him, and then she gives me a cheeky look.
“Shall we take this party upstairs?” I murmur seductively, hoping to get the evening back on track, but Tressa shakes her head. Disappointment flares inside of me.
“I’m cold.” She frowns, rubbing her upper arms. “Let’s make some tea.”
I swallow down a frustrated growl and trail behind her as she heads into the kitchen. Flipping on lights as she moves through the space, I’m reminded by how comfortable Tressa has grown in my space. It’s nice, really, seeing her like this. She lifts the tea kettle from its resting spot where Mrs. Potts likely used it earlier and begins filling it with tap water from the sink. Satisfied, Tressa lights the burner of the large gas range and places the kettle atop it, then she waits.
I can’t help but notice how mouthwatering she is. Tempting. Alluring. Beautiful. She’s still dressed from our evening out in her black dress, tights, and high heels. I’d like to peel everything off her slowly, savoring and nipping at each new inch of skin I expose. Unfortunately, Tressa has other ideas. She gathers up a teacup, saucer, and teabag and sets to work fixing herself the proper cup of English tea. Apparently my habits have rubbed off on her. I summon my patience and bide my time.
“Do you think Alastair is alright?”
I nod, absently. “Of course. He’s an idiot, but he’ll live.”
“Do vampires get hangovers?” she asks next, cocking an adorably arched eyebrow in my direction.
“Hm? Um, no.” The truth is, I honestly don’t know. But I never have. Then again, I’m not a big drinker. But I doubt we have the makeup to make a hangover possible.
Once Tressa’s tea is ready, she carries her saucer and cup, and I lead the way from the kitchen.
After switching on the lamp in the living room, Tressa sinks down onto the plush leather couch, and I join her.
Tressa places her cup and saucer on the coffee table to cool, and I bring one arm around her, pulling her close and press a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m sorry my brother ruined our evening. I know it’s not how we planned on tonight going.”
She pulls back to meet my eyes. “No, it’s not. But you’re a good brother, Reign.”
I lean in and give her a slow, sweet kiss. Tressa’s lips part and I can’t resist tasting her, my tongue making a confident pass over hers.
“Drink your tea, so we can go upstairs. I need you,” I murmur.
“It’s too hot,” she murmurs, voice soft and quiet. “But I have an idea about how we can pass the time.” The mischievous gleam in her eyes is unexpected, and so is the way my body temperature ratchets up a few degrees.Interesting.
When her hand moves to the button on my pants, I suck in a ragged inhale. “What about Alastair?”
Her gaze flits over toward the hallway as her mouth lifts in a crooked grin. “I’m sure he’s passed out by now. He’ll be asleep for the night.”
“That’s true…”
With a mischievous smile, Tressa slides to her knees in front of me and my chest shutters. She is a wicked, wicked girl.
“Here?” I ask.
She gives me a sultry look that makes it impossible to say no to her.
