Page 24 of Hot Blooded
Alastair chuckles. “My brother can be a pain in the ass. It’s okay. You can say it.”
I press my lips together. “I also met the caretaker who lives next door. She’s about my age.”
“Pink hair? Nice um…” he clears his throat, “…physique?”
I raise one eyebrow. “Yes. That’s her.”
“Pretty girl.” There is an unmistakable longing in his voice, and he attempts to subtly adjust the front of his pants.
“Have you met her?” I gaze at him with a questioning expression.
“I haven’t had the pleasure yet. Maybe you can help me rectify that.”
I nod at him and add a huge, bright pink rose to the vase. I listen to Alastair complain about the lack of females in this town.
He’s easier to talk to than I imagined. He’s easygoing and funny without really trying to be.
I can’t resist the chance to ask him about Reign.
“So, you and Reign…” I let the words hang in the air between us.
Alastair’s mouth lifts in a lazy smile. “What would you like to know?”
“You’re not brothers in the traditional sense, I assume?”
He nods. “That’s correct. We met a long time ago though, and have been close friends forwhat feels like a millennium. He’s there for me and I’ll always be there for him—so in that sense, we are family.”
I nod. It’s a nice thought—the kind of family you choose. Maybe it’s something I’ll have someday too. A group of people who are there for me, who know the real me and accept me just as I am. I have a feeling I’ll be thinking about that later, under the quiet of darkness.
A gather the bunch of stems—the blooms in vibrant pink and magenta—careful to avoid the thorns, and add them to the vase. I’m no flower-arranging expert, but one of them is sticking up a little too high. I remove it to trim the stem, bringing the knife across it, andow.I end up slicing my thumb. Badly.
With shaking hands, I drop the knife. It clatters to the marble counter with a splatter of crimson droplets.
“Tressa,” Alastair’s voice sounds almost pained.
My eyes jump up to his. “I—it’s okay,” I manage, hands shaking. My blood drips again and again, staining the porcelain white of the counter, and I look up to see Alastair’s deep blue gaze assessing me. His look is penetrating. Dark. I feel a shiver race across my skin.
“Don’t move.” His voice is oddly stiff.
I don’t. But I need to wrap my thumb in a cloth, because I’m making a mess. I need to stop the bleeding…
Faster than I imagined possible, Alastair moves across the kitchen until he’s standing in front of me. There’s an unmistakable hunger in his eyes.
His long fingers curl around my wrist, and he lifts my hand to his mouth. My brain screams at me to stop this, but I’m caught, trapped, like a butterfly in a web.
He lowers his chin and captures my bleeding thumb into his mouth.
His silken tongue soothes my wound and I feel the vibration of a groan rumble deep inside his chest. I draw a gulp of oxygen and Alastair’s eyes sink closed. He doesn’t bite me. But he does drink from me. For several long moments. My heart hammers against my ribs painfully hard and fast. I feel dizzy, faint.
He’s still holding onto my wrist, still drinking from me when he pulls away suddenly. “Fuck, Tressa. You’re delicious…”
Somehow, commotion nearby captures our attention and then Alastair is being roughly shoved across the room. I stand here in shock as I realize that Reign is back. Reign is back and he’s got Alastair backed up against the wall, and he’s punching him.
Oh my God!
“Reign!” I shout, but he doesn’t stop. There’s shouting and the sounds of bodies being slammed against cabinet doors. Male grunts and a glass shatters as it hits the floor.
I grab a paper towel and wrap my thumb as I should have done before, and find that Alastair has freed himself from the chokehold.
