Page 30 of Forbidden Magic
He pouts in the cutest way possible, his vampire face twisted in surrender. “A week. I’ll do them for a week.”
“Going twice…”
“Alright, alright. A favor from them is worth more than a few hours of sleep. But it’s got to look good. Tongue and everything.” His smile turns wolfish, his gaze sliding down the slope of my neck to my pulse point.
“No bite. Just a kiss.”
“We’ll see.” His tone is low and seductive. His hands nestle in the hollow above my hipbones.
A discreet heat tingles up my belly and chest. “Just a kiss.”
“As you wish.” The hungry look on his face doesn’t relent.
I snake my hands around his neck. “Deal.”
They’re all looking at us. Jessa, Krystel, Melanie, Naomi, Flynn, Allie, Jeremy and Cole.
I grab a fist of Trent’s long wavy hair and crush my mouth to his.
Whistles and claps echo in my ears.
His lips are colder than I expected. They frost an icy path down my spine, but it’s not bad. In fact, after the initial shock subsides, it’s kind of nice. Fresh.
I crack one eye open to look at our audience.
Cole and Jessa aren’t there anymore.
“How about that bite now?” He trails off.
“Erm—No…” But the “no” is ambiguous and shaky. I’ve got half a mind to guide him in a dark corner and let him have his bloodthirsty way with me. A vampire bite, when it’s friendly, is described as sensuous and overwhelming, and I’m suddenly very curious.
Damn creatures of the night.
A sudden dizziness prevents me from acting on this new desire, and I use his shoulder to catch myself from falling.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
Without another word, I stagger a few steps away from the fire and vomit in the grass.
12
Cherries and Peaches
The duel sandpit is as big as a football field. Two wide sets of bleachers stand on either side of the path leading to the middle of the arena, and tall dunes encircle the oval-shaped training ground. My palms are sweaty, and I discreetly wipe them on my leggings before climbing the left bleachers. Trent is alone in the middle, his extended arms resting against the beam running behind him. The Faes and Brie are sitting on the highest step, and the other students crowd the first few rows. About fifteen students in total, which makes Duel the smallest class yet.
Trent straightens up as I draw near. “Hey, Jules.”
“Hi.” I scan the faces again, but I’m pretty sure I’m the only mortal. Great.
Trent dusts off the area right next to him. “You nervous?”
“Am I that transparent?” I ask, folding my leg below me. This is the only class where we can wear the school’s sportswear instead of the traditional uniforms. The black leggings and Lycra shirt highlight my curves, and I feel like a cat burglar with the hood covering my hair.
Trent’s shirt hugs his broad chest when he leans forward and sniffs the air above my shoulder. “I can smell it.”
The red elastic of my side braid is nestled between my breasts. I catch Trent stealing a glance and push him away playfully. “Keep your nose in your corner, Darkwood.Andyour teeth.”
He smiles, and I don’t hate how his eyes shine or the flirty undertones of the exchange.
