Page 20 of Your Coffin or Mine
I frown but do as she asks. The car comes to a stop, but before I can unlock my seatbelt, she’s out of the vehicle with her phone aimed at the brick of the bridge.
I sigh inwardly at her antics and grumble under my breath, “Blasted humans.”
Stepping out of the car, I find her further down the lane near the bridge. Her phone is in the air, a light flashing behind it faster than even I can move.
“What are you doing?”
Her cheeks are flushed a rosy red, and the snow is falling again, dusting her in tiny white specks. She spins around, opening her mouth, face to the sky like a child. “Taking pictures. What else?” I glance at the frozen lake, the horizon of the sun reflecting off the ice like a mirror. It is beautiful, but the way the wind tears at her hair, the smile that seems to be always present on her lips is breathtaking.
Enough of this.
“Get back in the car before you catch your death of cold.”
She laughs, then playfully pouts like an impudent brat. I turn around, intent on getting the car door open and her inside the vehicle, but there’s a wet slap at the back of my head. Snow coats my shoulders, and my feet move before my brain registers, prowling toward her.
“Do not do that again.” I tell her, unsure of how to react.
“I don’t know, Vlad. You kind of look like you need something to help you cool off.” Her face stretches into a wide grin as she bends to pack another ball of snow.
She shrieks with laughter, her eyes crinkling in amusement as she runs away with a second snowball in her hand. She turns and lobs it at me, striking me in my chest.
“I’m warning you,” I say, but she only chuckles, her hands reaching into the snow again. “Aubrey, do not.”
She blows a raspberry at me, and I take a step toward her—only for her to jump back with a giggle. Snow falls from her hands as she scrambles to create her ammunition, causing my lips to twitch.
Extraordinary. Such an action from any other human would most likely result in their death, and yet when she does it... it is absolutely adorable. What is it about this female?
“Are you going to play with me or are you chickening out?” she asks, her cheeks pink from the cold winds, but her blue eyes are so vibrant and alive.
Play with her. There’s an idea.
She seems to take my silence as acquiescence because she tosses the ball, but this time misses entirely.
A mistake.
The next moment, she’s in my arms, and her sweet scent invades my nostrils. She squeals lightly, but her body turns warm a moment later as I hold her. A hint of arousal meets my nose, intoxicating to the senses.She smells delectable.My hands tremble as overwhelming need washes over me. She gasps and I take advantage, pressing my lips to hers.
Her fingers pull at the cotton fabric of my shirt. Her tongue tangles with mine, and I grip the ridiculous ball of hair at the top of her head, tilting her mouth so I can delve deeper.Her taste is incredible.
I try to remind myself she’s human and a guest in my home, but the sounds she’s making drive me to insanity. I feel my control slipping and step away, clenching my jaw at how her body tries to follow mine. Her heart is thundering in her chest, and a shiver ripples through her. Her need is palpable, and I shove my hands in my pockets to keep myself from reaching for her again. What the fuck am I doing? And in the snow, no less? I still don’t know why I kissed her, yet I lick my lips for another taste.
The last thing I want is for her to become ill from the cold or for me to fall on her like a starved beast.Humans are so fragile.
She blinks as if coming out of a daze and grins. The blush on her cheeks spreads and I scowl.
“Umm. Would you mind if I take your picture?”
I expect her to rail at me for having touched her, but she asks for pictures.
“Yes, I do mind.”
Her smile falls. “Why?”
My mouth pulls into a grimace. I’d be more amenable to conquering an army of enemies for her than allowing my picture to be taken.
“Please?” She pouts, and I find I am unable to deny her. The sad expression makes me want to pull her to my chest and comfort her.What the fuck is she doing to me?
Not only that, the sunscreen on my skin is becoming unbearable as time passes. It itches and sinks beneath my flesh like fire. With each beat of her heart, I grow more aware of the blood in her veins, but instead of sensing impending danger, her only concern is, of course, pictures.
