Page 411 of Love Bites

Austin led me to a room across the hall and closed the door behind us. “I’m not afraid of anything, Ladybug. Not a damn thing.”

Tucked in the left corner was a small bed with black covers and pillowcases. Concert posters were tacked all over the snow-white walls and I knew by Pink Floyd hanging behind the bed that we were in Jericho’s room. An oversized black beanbag chair sat on the floor with a leather jacket casually draped across it. To the right, a plain wooden dresser against the wall had been covered with loose change, guitar picks, cigarettes, and a box of ribbed condoms.

“We shouldn’t sleep in here,” I said apprehensively, staring at a bubbling red lava lamp beside the twin bed.

Austin pulled off his socks and unbuckled his belt. “Jericho’s got a gig tonight and won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. He likes to get trashed and party after the show.”

“What does he play?”

Austin pulled off his belt and tossed it to the floor. “He sings lead and plays guitar.”

“Does he also sell his music online?”

Austin sniffed out a laugh. “No telling. The Breed bars pay them well and they’re a hit with the ladies. Too much risk doing anything that would make him famous, because eventually people would notice he isn’t aging very much. We try to keep a low profile around humans.”

“I need a shower,” I said, stalling and staring down at my day-old clothes.

“Denver set up a camera at your apartment and I packed you a small bag. It’s in the bathroom. You can take a shower and brush your teeth if you want. I’m tired, my wolf’s tired, and I’ll be knocked out by the time you’re done,” he grumbled, crawling over the bed and spreading out.

The taut muscles in his arms flexed as he stretched his right arm and sighed. I turned on my heel and went for the shower.

* * *

Austin was right;when I got back to the room, he was sound asleep. Thankfully, he wasn’t a snorer. He just breathed deep and growled once in a while.

I was a little embarrassed he’d paid a visit to my underwear drawer, but relieved when I saw he didn’t pack my black garter belt or see-through red nightie. He’d chosen for my nightwear a knee-length T-shirt withKa-Pow!written on the front. He’d had a wide selection to choose from, because that drawer had everything fromI’m ready for smokin’ hot sextoIt’s my time of the month, so don’t even think about touching me.

Austin dressed me like his kid sister, and I mentally sighed.

He didn’t stir when I crawled on top of the sheets. He was flat on his back with both arms spread out—just as I’d left him. I combed my fingers through my damp hair, feeling the energy drain from my body.

I pulled the covers up and found myself staring at Austin’s chest. He had well-defined muscles in his abdomen that looked like I could have washed my clothes on them. Despite the fact he’d been out running all day, he smelled wonderful. Sometimes I wondered if men had any idea of what women found attractive. Like the small cleft in his chin, or the way his hands felt rough when they touched my soft skin, and even the way he had popped open the button on his jeans. When I heard a low growl—it was a sexy little sound that made me wonder what he was dreaming about.

I eased a little bit closer with my arms tucked against my chest. Then just a little closer, watching his breathing to make sure I didn’t wake him up.

The closer I snuggled up to Austin, the more I craved that cozy familiarity—more than I would have cared to admit. I’d missed him. How do you not miss someone who was a huge chunk of your childhood and young-adult life who disappeared off the face of the earth? Almost every memory I had from kindergarten to age twenty involved Austin Cole.

The next thing I knew, my cheek rested on his bicep and I tucked my body against his like a puzzle piece. Just when I closed my heavy eyelids, he groaned.

Oh God, please don’t let him wake up now.

It was deep and guttural, and he shifted on his right side, facing me.

“You okay?” he murmured.

I didn’t reply. I played dead and pretended I was asleep. It seemed like a good plan to avoid the embarrassment of explaining why I was latched on to him like a man-sucking leech.

A rough, warm hand cupped my cheek and I felt him scoot down a little. Maybe he thought I had fallen asleep, because his thumb brushed over my right eyelid softly.

Five times. I counted.

When his lips lightly touched mine, my brain just shut down. It was a soft, almost nonexistent kiss, but I felt it all the way down to my toes. Then it zinged back up to my hips and damn if I didn’t moan.

Now we were both aware I wasn’t asleep and he was kissing me. But it didn’t stop. His kiss pressed a little bit harder and tingles roared through my body, and my breath was shaky and erratic.

When his tongue touched my lip, I quickly opened my mouth and kissed him back.

Hard.

---