10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Z ylus

"No problem. I can put clean sheets on one of the other beds."

Did I just offer that with a straight face when what I really want is to tackle her here on this bed and lick every inch of her delectable body?

"Let me clarify. I'm not sleeping alone in any room."

Resisting the urge to shake my head like a character in a cartoon who's confused about what he thinks he just heard, I edge closer, lower my voice, and enquire, "Where do you want to sleep?"

The flow of time changes from what it has been my entire life. Defying the laws of physics, it crawls so slowly it feels as if I have a twenty-minute internal debate while I await her answer.

While I anticipate her reply, I take a luxurious mental detour and envision her telling me she wants to sleep in this bed with me. Ten thousand filthy images later, after I've imagined all the things Misty St. Clair and I could do in this bed, she answers.

"I think the only way I'll be able to sleep tonight is if we're in the same room. "

This time I don't resist the urge to shake my head to make sure I heard her right. She's looking at me innocently, as if she didn't just proposition me, so I'd better play back what she just said. When that doesn't work, I ask, "What?"

"I think we should sleep in the same room. It should be… neutral ground. How about dragging some bedding to the living room floor? We could pretend we're kids having a sleepover."

My raging hard-on deflates faster than a flat tire on a youngling's bicycle. A children's sleepover? I work hard to erase every vulgar picture I'd just mentally conjured. Just as quickly as I push one to the back of my mind, two spring up in its place.

My brain must be broken. I should be thinking about what to do with my lowlife brother. I should be focused on helping this poor female regain her sense of safety. Why am I fixated on sex when there are other, much more pressing matters at hand?

"Great idea. Sleepover," I say as I warm to the idea of being her protector.

Five minutes later, I've made two pallets on the great room floor. If Misty had been able to look into my brain, she would have seen me doing higher mathematics with tangents and cosines as I calculated the closest distance I could arrange the bedding without her thinking I'm a pervert. After all my computations, though, I nudge the two piles of bedding five standard inches closer than what seemed the gentlemanly choice.

It's only when I stand up and focus on Misty that I realize she's been calling my name for a few moments. I guess I was too preoccupied with geometry and physics to recall the object of my sexual fantasies was in the room with me.

"Uh, Zylus?"

"Yes?"

The way she's standing, with her palm cupped firmly over her mouth, I can't tell whether she's holding back laughter or trying not to be scandalized. It's only when I realize her other hand is pointing below my waist that I realize what the problem is.

I'm naked. The towel I'd tucked around my waist is nowhere to be seen. Did it fall off on our walk down the stairs? Have I been bent over the bedcovers for long minutes, showing her my ass ? Or… my cock ? My hard-as-steel cock ?

"How long?" I grit, then groan. Will she wonder if I'm talking about time, or the length of my member?

"Certainly the longest I've ever been, um, intimately acquainted with." She said that through the hand covering her mouth, then groaned as she slapped her second palm on top of the first.

I'm a grown male, so I reject my first thought, which is to run from the room and never see her again. Instead, I grab one of the sheets, drape it over one shoulder, and tie it tightly so it covers most of my body. Then I give her the bold, interested stare I've been holding back all day.

"Longest, huh?" I not only force myself to hold her gaze, but I turn up the heat and give her what I hope is a sexy smirk.

"Mm-hmm." She nods, ever-so-slowly, as her gaze rakes over me, brazenly pausing on the tent at my hips.

"You'd say I… measure up?"

"You're the handyman. Got a tape measure?"

So many emotions have passed between us over the course of this day. The awkward first meeting, the stress of the bank, the increased strain of negotiating a partnership with someone we just met, and the sheer enormity of this project, not to mention her encounter with what she thinks is a ghost.

All of that falls away as we wordlessly acknowledge the undercurrent sparking between us since the beginning. Attraction .

We're standing on opposite sides of the two pallets, so it's quite obvious when I inch toward her, our gazes never faltering. I give her plenty of time to back away or tell me to halt.

Instead of stopping me, though, she eases toward me, stepping over blankets and pillows as we meet in the middle of the bedding piles.

The room is shrouded in thick, palpable silence, with the only sound being our ragged breaths and the crackling of the wood fire I started when we arrived earlier. The air is charged with anticipation, fueled by the raw desire coursing between us.

Slowly, I approach her, my hand gliding up her spine as if drawn by a magnetic force. The fabric of her shirt is soft against my fingertips, igniting every nerve in my body. Her warmth seeps through the thin material, making me ache for more.

My palm slides up, reaching her nape and then delving under her silky hair. I pull her closer, unable to resist the temptation of her lips any longer. They're plump and inviting, a feast waiting to be savored.

As our mouths meet in a fiery tangle of tongues and teeth, her hands grasp my shoulders with an almost desperate grip. It's as if she's using me to anchor herself in this moment, to hold on to something tangible in the midst of our intense passion.

As our bodies press together, her hardened nipples graze my chest, causing my cock to pulse in excitement.

Because of our height difference, it barely registers that I've lifted her to meet my height so we can deepen our passionate kiss. A primal groan escapes my throat as her thighs wrap around my waist, clutching me tightly.

We're moaning in pleasure as our tongues war, mimicking the verbal sparring we've been playing at all day. As I hold her tighter against me, I devour her mouth.

Her taste is addictive, like sweet honey mixed with fiery passion. My cock is hard as steel, and my thoughts are focused on nothing but the beautiful female in my arms. With each passing second, our desire intensifies. The thought of my brother haunting this house and threatening to harm her evaporates from my mind as I focus solely on her pleasure—and mine.

Her taste, her warmth, her eager kisses. Perhaps this is the antidote to her terror. Maybe instead of threatening to kill my brother if he ever bothers her again, I should pay him to keep haunting the house. Then I could play the courageous protector and take her mind off her fear—with my tongue and fangs and eager cock.

Her sheer desire and enthusiasm return my thoughts to our kiss, and I dive back into the moment.

This fearless woman is clutching me with all her might. Her arms around my neck, her thighs squeezing my waist as she delves into my mouth, heedless of my sharp fangs. She needn't worry, though, I'm taking care not to nick her.

"You taste so good, Zylus."

"Mmm." It's all I can say. I'm too busy savoring this kiss and the way her warm, curvy body slots against mine.

I pull away, catching my breath and calming my cock as I slow things down. Instead of kisses, I nip from her pointed chin up her jaw to the hairless patch behind her ear. When I lap softly there, her sharp intake of breath tells me I've found a sweet spot.

I suck and nibble her earlobe, making sure to breathe into the cavern of her ear until she shivers in delight. We've only known each other a few hours, but I'm already making mental notes of all the places that make her hum and moan, as I plan to return there again and again.

She tugs my hair, turning us so our lips are once again aligned. Holding nothing back, her pointed pink tongue delves into my mouth, garnering my taste, exploring my depths. She even slides her tongue along one of my fangs, perhaps testing its sharpness .

As I'm wondering how this pretty, passionate woman could possibly be single, she pulls away just far enough to ask, "How is it no woman has snapped you up before now? Handsome, sexy, kind…"

Obviously not interested in my answer, she kisses me again, wordlessly urging me to slide my tongue into her mouth. Her arousal scent is sweet and strong, commanding my attention as I wonder how forward it would be for me to offer to pleasure her.

When I realize my hips have taken on a life of their own and are thrusting in an insistent rhythm against her wide-split thighs, I rear back and grab a breath.

"Should we talk about this?" I ask.