Page 34 of The Biting Bargain

I gulp, an excited zing shooting straight into my nether regions.

"A companion needs to wear the right jewelry," he says, pulling out the collar and undoing the silver buckle. "Hold up your hair."

Heart pounding, I comply, holding my hair out of the way as he gently slings the collar around my neck. His fingers brush my skin, sending tendrils of heat all the way down to my toes.

Jesus, calm down, Polly!

The buckle snaps shut with a mechanical click. The leather nestles against my throat. I feel along the leather. Just above my larynx sits a silver metal ring that feels cold and smooth under my fingertips.

"Almost perfect."

I turn to Vincent, feeling like a dessert on display the way he looks at me, and wince as he takes my hand.

"Nervous?" He surveys my hand and forearm, gently turning my wrist in his large hand.

"No, that’s just my allergy to overpriced fashion," I stammer, cursing myself in the same moment. Why can't I just be normal? Why do I always have to crack the lamest joke at the most inappropriate moment?

Vincent huffs. It could be a suppressed laugh were it not for the fact that he’s probably not physically able to laugh without spraining his neck or something. He inspects my other arm with the same thoroughness. The bruises the troll thug gave me are all but gone.

"Before we leave, I need to bite you," he says. I just nod, already expecting this, after all I am now his official favorite drone. If I didn't have any bite-marks, people would probably wonder if I wasn’t just a stunt-drone.

"However, I should not bite your neck," he continues, his coffee-black gaze hitting me like a pointed edge. "Given what happened last time."

Heat sets my face aflame. That memory bubbles up again, of me on his lap, obscenely splayed, begging for more and coming so hard I see stars.

I swallow when he leans toward me. He still holds my hand in his and I'm sure he feels my pulse racing away as he moves closer.

"Unless you prefer otherwise."

"What do you mean?" I squeak, pressing my thighs together as a hot tingle shoots through me.

"I mean, little dove" — the pad of his thumb runs over the inside of my palm, and his lips curl into that mind-bending smirk — ”that we haven't talked about the perks in our arrangement."

"No perks," I blurt out much too quickly, but don't manage to pull my hand away.

He raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"You get my blood and my company," I say, trying to sound as firm as I possibly can. "I get my money. No perks."

"I see." He continues to smirk, not at all convinced. But I can't protest, my heart is beating way too hard against my ribcage and I feel a little lightheaded. I almost don't get that he gently presses his thumb against my collarbone, a feather-light touch without any force, and I sink into the soft cushions of the sofa.

"This won't feel quite as intense," he says, guiding my forearm to his mouth. "But if you ever change your mind, little dove, just say the word."

I meet his gaze, transfixed.

He is serious about this. I can feel it. If I let him, he would pounce on me and we would just go on where we were interrupted last time.

And I can't lie, it's really hard for me not to let him.

But I also know I'm just a means to an end, a tasty snack at best. And as much as I'm tempted, I don't feel like falling in love with an arrogant vampire who would only toy with whatever feelings I might develop.

Been there, done that.

I close my eyes.

It doesn't even hurt when he sinks his fangs into my forearm.

ChapterFourteen

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