Page 44 of Your Coffin or Mine
A pucker forms between his brows like it takes him a moment to think about what to say. “I have been to a place called Virginia and once to New Orleans.”
“Oh, I’ve always wanted to visit New Orleans and see the French Quarter. Mardi Gras looks like it would be amazing.”
“Hmm. Yes. It is a filthy place full of vagabonds and festering vessels of pestilence.”
I blink at that. “Wow, tell me how you really feel.” I laugh.
“Most countries, I’m sure, have nice places and others that aren’t so nice.”
“Yeah, I guess that is true. I’ve always wanted to see the world.” I shrug. “It’s what I would love to do most, really.”
“Do what exactly?”
“Show people new places like this, and let them see the world as I do. Lots of people never leave their hometowns or travel, and some want to know the best vacation spots. It’s why I have such a big following on Instagram.” I tug my phone from my pocket and unlock it for him.
“See? Here is when I visited Cancun. It was beautiful, and the villagers were so nice.”
He eyes the photo. “When was this?”
“A few years ago.” I shrug. “I went with some friends.”
“Right. So this is what you want to do here?” He gestures at the mountainside. “Take pictures and show everyone?”
“Yes. Show them my experiences, the people, the cute little villages, the castles. People love to visit places to find their secrets.”
“Hmm. Well then, I suppose that won’t hurt.” He waves his fingers. “Give me your phone.”
I hand it over and he holds it out toward me, his brows drawn down in concentration.
I watch on in puzzlement. “What are you doing?”
“Be quiet. I’m trying to take a picture.” He holds the phone out, aiming it at me with a concentrated expression.
I giggle and he snaps a photo. He looks down at the phone, staring intently at the picture he’s taken with a strange expression.
I walk backward and hold my arms out. “Take one now,” I say, beaming a smile at him.
He does, and I spin in circles, laughing as snowflakes land on my face. I spin faster and faster, smiling at the gray sky, before I’m suddenly in the air, picked up off the ground like I weigh nothing.
My thighs lock around his hips like they’re magnetized to his sex lines as he guides me down to his lips. I close my eyes, letting him pull me away from the moment, enjoying his taste. Three days with this man and he knows just how to catch my bottom lip to make my breath hitch in my throat.
When he sets me on my feet, I pull away. Exhilaration races through me, and I want to play more. Running toward the nearby woods, I look back and shout, “Catch me if you can!”
His eyes narrow, but he walks sedately, a slow grin pulling at his mouth.
I squeal in delight and run through the snowy trees, zigging and zagging to get away. I turn to look behind me and stumble. Firm hands wrap around my waist, but my palm meets the ground and something sharp grazes my skin.
“Ow!” I hiss out as Vlad pulls me up to standing.
“What did you—” He stops on the last word, his eyes fixed where blood has welled on my palm, and his face goes pale.
The scratch throbs painfully with how cold my hands are, and I suck in a breath as I make a fist and hold it against my chest. “I’m okay. It’s just a scratch.” I frown at his pale, hardened features. “Hey, are you okay?”
He pulls me closer, his expression full of concern. “Areyouokay?” he asks, his tone gruff and deep. It’s even hoarse, like his breath is tight. “Foolish woman, where are your gloves?” he murmurs, the sound so low I can barely hear him.
“I’m fine. Just a small cut, I think.”
He opens my palm, and I wince when I look down at it.
