“No!” Claire left her not-yet-boiling water behind as Simon stood, unfolding his body with that unexpected grace that seemed only slightly unnatural. There was a mirror in her bathroom, another in the bedroom. If she could just get him to stand in front of one of those mirrors…if she could just be sure…“You need to eat something,” she said softly.
“I’m not going to starve,” he responded.
“What do you have at your place if you get hungry later?” she asked logically. “Frozen dinners? Soup and crackers? I make very good spaghetti.”
“I wish you would be honest with me,” he said, a touch of anger coloring his voice. There was a pleasant melodiousness to his voice, she decided, even when he was mad. “Something strange is going on here. There was never any earring in the hallway, there was no noise from my apartment, and I’ve never heard of any Southern Women’s Code. I think yesterday you were following me, and tonight you were snooping.”
“I’m not…”
He moved in very close and placed one finger over her lips. “I talk, you listen. You’re much more transparent than you intend to be.”
Claire couldn’t move. Somehow he held her in place with that one finger on her mouth, and with his eyes. His magical, mesmerizing, unbelievably dark eyes. Her heart beat too hard. He knew that she’d discovered his secret, and now he was going to kill her. This time when he lowered his head he was going to bite down on her neck and feed and that would be the end of everything for her.
Claire Murphy was found dead in her apartment. The body was discovered by a nosy neighbor, Mrs. Iris Tillman, who was bothered by the gross smell. Miss Murphy has no family and she will not be missed by anyone. Oh, and by the way, it seems someone had taken all her blood, but who cares?
“Maybe I am transparent,” she whispered, angry at the knowledge that she could die here and now and no one would care. “You didn’t seem to mind a few minutes ago.”
“No, I didn’t mind at all. I’ve been dreaming about getting you in that particular position for weeks. I’ve been dreaming about more, Claire. To be honest, I’ve been watching you since I moved in,” he said in a lowered voice. “There’s no boyfriend, and you’re in bed every night very early and very alone.”
“If you work at night how do you…”
“Shhh,” he ordered gently. “I know. I’ve also known all along that if I touched you just right you’d come apart, and you did. Before tonight, when was the last time you came, Claire Murphy?”
She swallowed hard before answering half-heartedly, “Does it count if I was alone at the time?”
“No. That most definitely doesn’t count.”
“Hey, wait,” she said indignantly. “You’ve been stalking me!”
“Just a little.”
Claire was frozen in place as Simon lowered his head to her neck. His lips pressed there at the place where neck became shoulder, and a rush of sensation shot through her. She shouldn’t be so easy, what had happened in his apartment aside. Her insides clenched and her knees went weak, and all he had done was lay his mouth on her throat. The kiss was gentle, and yet it made her feel as if she were melting.
“I know what you want, Claire Murphy,” he whispered against her flesh, “and it isn’t spaghetti or a fictional earring.” His hand slipped beneath her shirt and raked against her back until he found her bra clasp and very easily unhooked it. “I want the same thing you do. I have since I first saw you in the hallway, more than a month ago. Does that surprise you? It surprises me. I don’t normally want things I shouldn’t have. I learned better long ago.”
How long?
Claire wanted to believe that what had driven her to suspect her neighbor of horrible crimes and unnatural abilities was nothing more complicated than her overactive imagination combined with the need to be touched and an undeniable attraction, which was apparently reciprocated. Her reasons for suspecting Simon of being an unnatural being were loneliness, boredom, and the craving for what he was offering her at this very moment, as he removed her tangled blouse and bra and tossed them to the floor.
He lowered her to the sofa. This time there would be more than a heated sexual moment that came and went too quickly. This time they would be naked and he would be inside her, and…oh, my. His mouth was warm on her breasts, and vampires were not warm. They were dead and cold. Unless they’d just fed and he’d picked up something besides flowers while he was out. Simon was not at all cold. In fact, his skin was hot, and she was almost certain she could hear the beat of his heart against her belly, where his chest rested as he sucked her nipple deep into his mouth. She wanted him at her neck again, but certainly didn’t complain. He would return there soon enough, she imagined.