Chapter 42
42
I reach up to wipe the tear from Grace’s cheek, my chest tightening with the need to make her pain go away. Her wanting to focus on the present rather than deal with what I did scares me. Will she regret using me to push away the sadness? Now that I’ve realized I need Grace in my life far more than I fear what will happen when she’s gone, I can’t handle the thought of her deciding I hurt her too much to forgive me once the passion of the moment fades.
But she’s told me multiple times this is what she wants tonight, so I have to trust her decision. Outside of the brief time I had with my grandma before she passed, I’ve never truly loved someone—infatuation with Dominic doesn’t count—let alone been loved back, so maybe it really is this simple. It feels impossible, but then again so did allowing someone into my cold, dead heart in the first place.
“Let me get you something to drink while you wait,” I say, taking Grace’s hand in mine and leading her into the kitchen.
She follows, her palm warm and comforting against my cool flesh, and I’m reluctant to let go.
“I’ve got a few different options,” I say, opening my fridge to remind myself of what all is inside other than blood bags. “It’s late, so you probably don’t want any cold brew… I have some chocolate syrup that might taste good with the oatmilk, or there are some cans of vaguely grapefruit-flavored seltzer. Or I could make you a cup of tea.”
Grace comes up behind me, and my breath hitches as she presses her chest to my back, placing a hand on my hip as she looks over my shoulder. I shut my eyes, fighting back tears at the overwhelming wave of emotions that hit me at her simple touch.
God, I love her so much. I missed her.
“Why do you have all this food?” she asks, seeing the groceries I panic ordered before I went to bed this morning. I figured I’d end up throwing them out, because there was no way Grace would agree to come stay. Now I’m glad I didn’t resist the urge to get them.
Her hand on my hip slides to rest on my stomach as she leans in to look behind a bag of apples to where there’s a whole cherry pie. “You have my favorite things,” she murmurs, voice threaded with confusion. “Are these from… before?”
I shake my head. “No, I got them delivered earlier today. Not because I thought you’d come over tonight!” I clarify quickly. “I just… I wanted to be ready. I hated the thought that you wouldn’t feel welcome if you ever stayed.”
Grace moves to my side, eyes scanning my face, then flicking back to the stocked refrigerator. “Blair, this is enough food to last for weeks. How long did you hope I’d be here?”
“As long as you wanted,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can think better of them.
Grace’s mouth falls open in surprise.
“Shit. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I haven’t earned your forgiveness. It’s way too fucking soon to want you to live with me.”
Her jaw drops even more. “You were thinking about me moving in?”
My stomach lurches at her obvious disbelief and shock, and yet instead of reassuring her or doing something remotely sane, I blurt out the truth. “Yes. I want to be with you. Not just for occasional date nights or when we can find the time. I want a life with you. I want it all.”
“Blair…” Grace’s brow furrows and my mind races, trying to find something to say that won’t end in her running away.
“I know I can’t expect you to want that soon, and I don’t. Truly, I don’t. But I need you to know that I’m done being scared and I’m done pretending not to want those things. I want someone to share a bed with. I want someone to sit and chat about nothing while we eat. Someone to force me to watch awful reality TV and nerdy movies. I want someone to help fill this lonely, empty house. Or, if you hate it here, find somewhere else to make ours. Where we are doesn’t matter. I’ve spent my entire existence desperately wanting a place to call home, and when I met you, I finally found it.”
I struggle to continue as emotion clogs my throat, tears sliding down my cheeks. “You’re it, Grace. You’re my home.”
Grace moves so quickly, I let out a startled sound as her hand digs into my hair and an arm wraps around my waist, pulling me to her and claiming my lips. Her scent and the sweet taste of her mouth mingle with my coppery tears and the salt of her own.
Our tongues tangle as we melt together in the kiss. It’s not rushed or frantic, like before. No, it’s slow and painfully tender, a physical manifestation of us coming to an accord. We consume each other’s sadness and yearning, until all that’s left is overwhelming love and hot, aching need.
Grace pulls back, a slow smile stretching across her lips. “You know I’m going to want to add some color in here, right?”
It takes me a second to understand what she’s saying. Another second to process the surge of shocked excitement. “We can paint the whole damn house pink if you want. I always wanted a Barbie Dreamhouse as a kid.”
She snorts. “I was joking.”
“I wasn’t. Come on, I’ll show you.” I close the refrigerator doors and grab her hand.
“I don’t need you to start redecorating right now! Your house is great the way it is, really it was a joke,” she says, but lets herself be tugged behind me as I lead us up the stairs and to the main bedroom. “I thought you slept in the basement,” she says as I open the door.
Grace gasps softly when I flick on the lights. I watch her face as she scans the freshly painted pink walls and the pink and gold rose-patterned wallpaper along one wall.
I grimace at her pinched brow. “I know it’s certifiable for me to do this without even knowing if we’d get back together, but once I came up with the idea, it’s all I could think about. Even if you couldn’t forgive me, or if you never wanted to live together, I’d at least have somewhere that I could go when I thought of you.”
Grace turns to me with watery eyes and buries her face in my shoulder, tears dripping onto my skin as she cries.
“If you hate it, we’ll change it. It’s just paint,” I say, trying not to let her hear how crestfallen I am .
She pulls off my shoulder, sniffing. “I don’t hate it! I’m overwhelmed. This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me,” she says, beaming at me even as tears spill down her cheeks. “I love it. I love you.”
Grace kisses me, and I smile back at her. “Good. It was a pain in the ass to put the wallpaper up on my own, so I’m glad it’s okay.”
She laughs. “It’s beautiful. Though I’m not sure why I need my own bedroom, so maybe I can use it as an office or something.”
My chest squeezes at how casually she’s discussing living here with me. “I thought it might be nice for you to have a second bedroom in case you got sick of sleeping in a dank basement with me.”
“Hmm… I can’t know if I’ll want that without seeing it first,” she says, eyelashes fluttering at me in an unsubtle hint of what she’d like to do once we get down there.
“Good point.” I lick my lips, and she tracks the movement eagerly.
We head downstairs and back to the kitchen, where Grace grabs some coffee so she can stay up with me until sunrise. I reluctantly leave her to drink it in the kitchen while I race down to the basement to make things nicer for her.
I barely have time to make the bed and light some candles before I hear her footsteps coming down the stairs. She gives me a seductive smile when she steps into the bedroom, making desire pool in my stomach and my fangs emerge.
“Sorry, I couldn’t wait any longer,” she says, holding my gaze for a moment before letting her eyes drift to take in the space. “It’s beautiful down here. Somehow exactly what I imagined, and yet even nicer.”
“I’m glad you like it.” I draw closer to her as my fangs ache at the thought of her being here, where I’ve dreamed of spending countless hours with her, fucking and feeding, or just holding her in my arms and feeling her heart beat against my chest.
She senses the shift in my energy, her pupils dilating as I approach. “Now what?” she asks, biting her lower lip.
Now, I keep you in my lair and never let you go.
The monster in me thinks it’s crystal clear, but it’s not that simple. Even if Grace moves in, living together won’t change that I can’t be in the sun, and she deserves to bask in its light. And there’s the looming knowledge that she won’t be able to stay forever, unless I turn her.
I shove down the welling panic and sadness. Those are worries for another night. No matter what happens, I’m going to cling to her for as long as I can, greedy for any scrap of Grace’s light.
I give her an assessing look, hoping she can’t tell how dark my thoughts were a moment ago. “Do you still want what you asked for earlier? For me to take control?”
“Yes,” she breathes. Grace gives me a small smile, stunning me with how fucking lovely she is when she’s vulnerable. “Maybe I shouldn’t give it to you so easily, but I need that. If I let my mind lead, I’m worried I’ll fall apart. I need you to show me I’m yours.”
I nod, the weight of her words and the trust she’s putting in me after I hurt her not something I take lightly. I’ll do everything in my power to deserve her faith in me.
“Are you in any pain tonight? Anything I should avoid?” I ask, moving in behind her to brush her hair to the side and press a kiss to her nape.
“It’s okay right now.”
“Tell me your safeword, Grace.” I thread my arm beneath hers and cup her breast, eliciting a small breathy inhale from her.
“Calico. ”
I kiss her shoulder as a reward for her response, and she arches her chest into my hand.
It would be so easy to command her to strip and feast on her blood and her pleasure, but the experienced dominant in me can sense she needs something different. She needs me to anchor her to this moment, keep her in her body so dark thoughts and anxieties won’t pull her away.
She whimpers softly when I step away, watching me as I head into the closet to get what I need. I open the drawer where I keep my ropes, finding the pink cotton ones I bought with Grace in mind before we even started experimenting together.
Grace’s eyes darken when I return with the ropes and safety scissors in hand, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “Are you going to tie me up?”
“Yes,” I say, swallowing hard as I watch her pulse tick in her throat.
“Where do you want me?” Grace’s gaze darts to the bed, and while that’s tempting, I need to be fully present and in control for rigging. Grace in my bed, her legs tied open while I feast between them, will have to wait until a time when I’m not already half-feral for her.
“Stand by the chaise,” I command, pointing to the other side of the room where I have an antique, blood red fainting couch.
“Yes…” Grace hesitates in her response. “Should I call you Mistress or…?”
“Just Blair for tonight, love,” I say, moving in front of her and setting the shears and rope down on the edge of the chaise.
“Yes, Blair,” she murmurs.
I hold her hand to keep her steady while she steps out of her heels, then circle behind her to unzip her dress and unhook her bra. She shivers as I slip my hands under both the dress and her bra straps to push them off her shoulders.
Both garments fall to the ground at her feet, and I rake my gaze down her back, smiling when I see her heart-shaped birthmark peeking out from the edge of her high-waisted beige underwear.
“Sorry for the granny panties. I wasn’t expecting anyone to see them,” she says with a self-conscious chuckle.
I hook two of my fingers under the elastic of the waistband and pull it back before letting it snap against her skin. “I like them.” I stroke my hand across the plain cotton fabric and down between her thighs, where there’s already a small damp patch.
Grace inhales sharply as I tease that spot for a moment before moving away and pulling her underwear down. She steps out of it and I take a minute to soak her in now that she’s bare to me.
“God, I’ll never get over how beautiful you are,” I murmur, eyes feasting on every dip and curve of her plush, perfect form.
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” she says. My brow furrows, and she continues with a weak smile. “This is probably as hot as I’ll be. It’s all downhill from here.”
“Didn’t I just say I liked the granny panties?” I tease, even though I feel a lump rising in my throat at the reminder of her mortality.
Grace snorts. “You’re supposed to tell me that you’ll still love every inch of me when I’m saggy and wrinkly and you’re still… perfect!”
“I will,” I say solemnly. “I can’t imagine not loving you. You’re gorgeous, Grace, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy how sexy you are. But that’s all surface stuff. I love you for you. The rest doesn’t matter.”
She sighs. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry, where were we? Oh right, you were going to tie me up. ”
I cup her cheek. “I was serious when I said I’d turn you. I’ve thought about it a lot… I don’t want to, but it’s your choice and I promise no matter what you decide, I’ll support you.” I hate that there’s a small surge of hope at the thought of turning Grace that mingles with the more powerful dread at the idea of making her a monster.
“I… Ask me again in a few years?” Grace places her hand over mine as we exchange an understanding that both of us may reconsider our stance on the subject with the passage of time.
I nod and kiss her softly, bringing us both back into the moment. No matter what happens, I want to make every second I have with Grace count.