Chapter 23 #2
He blinked, looking over her shoulder at his wrist. “Such a good girl, to clean my skin so thoroughly. Not a single drop wasted.”
She huffed against his skin, tongue finishing its work. “Can I have more?” The whispered question was so innocent. It caught him off guard. His dick twitched painfully.
He brought his lips close to her ear again. This time, she stilled. He inhaled her arousal, thickening in the air around them. “That would ruin your appetite, no? I spent two hours preparing tonight’s treat. Just for you, little flower.”
Her chest rose and fell, panting.
“All right.”
He let her go, though he hated to do it.
Casually, he strode around the coffee table and sat down.
After fussing with the sleeve of his button-down, he replaced the cuff over his wrist. Lily watched the action.
When her eyes darted to the bulge in his pants, he angled his hips to make sure she saw it.
Let her see what she did to him. He would hand her this victory. Even if she might not understand how monumental it was.
Her eyes were round, but she didn’t say anything. Was his little flower shy? He couldn’t wait to find out.
She came around and sat down. A satisfied flush coated her skin, her eyes bright and alert.
He’d done that to her—for her. The spicy scent of her arousal continued to seep into the room, better than the most expensive perfume in the world.
His muscles only coiled tighter. He adjusted himself, attempting to get comfortable, wiling his dick to relax.
“Is something the matter?” she asked with feigned sweetness.
His low chuckle was pure amusement. “I’m fine, little flower.”
“You’re lying.”
“All right. I’m lying.” He reached out and snatched up a slice of the lemon blueberry bread, taking a bite. She watched him, waiting, until it was clear he had no intention of saying more.
Finally, she grabbed a slice and did the same. “It’s good,” she said through a mouthful. He pretended her praise didn’t affect him. Pretended he didn’t seek it every night. He licked his fingers clean, enjoyed the pleasure of her gaze on him as he did.
“Did you get a chance to talk to your friend today? Ania?”
“Yes. She’s having a good time on her trip.”
He’d only asked about her twice, mostly to make conversation. But it was clear that Lily enjoyed talking about her so it was an easy topic.
“How do the two of you know each other?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you asking because you actually care?”
“I do,” he said, voice quiet.
She stared at him for so long, he didn’t think she’d answer. “I ran into her at the transfer student orientation. She was volunteering. We hit it off.” She shrugged. “Turned out she was moving out of the dorms and needed a roommate.”
“I get the impression you’re glossing over a lot.”
“I am.”
He sighed, picking his words carefully, always so carefully.
He’d rehearsed them earlier like a fucking novice.
But he was—a novice, that is. He never did this sort of thing.
“I misjudged you, Lily. Quite badly. I made an assumption the day I took you based on your designer gown and the party you attended. After that, I did not bother to correct it.”
There. Easy enough. He could set his pride aside, as he’d done the last time he’d apologized to her.
“Oh? Figured it out, have you? Don’t think I’m a spoiled party brat anymore?”
He winced. That was deserved. Her ire was better than her fear. He’d rather have her sharp tongue anyway.
“Yes. I owe you an apology for that. I’ve lived a long time and found that humans have tarnished my view. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
She glared at him, her brows pulled low.
“I’ve fought to get where I am, Laurent.
Every day of my life has been a struggle.
Nothing was ever handed to me. When I started at the university, I skipped parties, skipped social events, so that I could study, or volunteer, or participate in extra circulars to improve my chances of getting into a good Ph.D program.
Do you have any idea how challenging it is to get into a mathematics Ph.D program?
” He shook his head. “Really fucking hard. I didn’t get to experience the whole college experience.
” She made air quotes with her fingers. “Nothing was ever easy.”
He stared at her and something in his chest softened. Not only had he misjudged her, but he hadn’t realized exactly what an incredible woman she was. Not merely impressive for her blood, but for what she’d faced and conquered.
“There was a graduate student,” she continued, “a TA for my finite analysis class. He was such a prick.”
“Did he hurt you?” he asked, suddenly seeing red.
“Not physically. He told me the only reason I’d gotten this far in my education was because I was pretty. As if all my teachers simply passed me because I was nice to look at. It was so…diminishing. I had to file a sexual harassment claim against him when he kept saying things like that to me.”
“What is his name?” he growled, already planning ten different ways to make him suffer.
“Why? Are you going to go hunt him down for me? Teach him a lesson?”
“I’m considering it. Do I have your permission?”
“Huh.” She looked taken aback. “Maybe you’re not entirely useless after all.”
He grunted. “Glad you’ve found your sarcasm again, little flower.”
She stared at him. “Why do you call me that?”
“Because of your name.”
“No.”
“No?” He lifted a brow.
“You called me that before you knew my name.”
A wicked grin split his lips. “You have a good memory.”
She looked entirely unamused.
“All right, it’s because of your scent.”
“My scent? Do I smell like flowers?”
“You do. Lilies and rich, warm vanilla.” He closed his eyes and inhaled. Such a beautiful scent. “Your name was merely a coincidence.”
She fussed with her hair, pulling it around to one side. The motion was unconsciously done. Still, it forced his gaze to zero in on her exposed throat. To the pulse beating there. The place his teeth most wanted to be.
He swallowed and said, “Anyway, I never should have judged you. I had no idea. That was my mistake. Again, I’m sorry. I acted abominably. With everything you’ve been through, I only made it worse.”
She froze. “You…looked me up?”
He scrubbed a hand over his face.
“You did, didn’t you? You… You… I don’t want your pity, Laurent. Is that…is that why you’re doing all of this? Because you feel sorry for me? Poor little foster girl, she’s been through so much, never had anyone to love her.”
His lips parted. For a moment, he was struck speechless. Because that wasn’t at all why. Is that what she believed?
“I don’t want your pity, Laurent,” she snapped, her voice going cold.
“I… No. That’s not why I’m doing any of this, Lily.”
“Are you sure?” Her gaze narrowed, mistrustful.
He leaned back, trying to relax. “Discovering your past helped me to better understand what you’ve been through.
But all it did was help me understand what an asshole I’ve been.
I don’t pity you, Lily. You aren’t some poor, unloved foster child.
You’re a brilliant mathematician who fights for what she wants.
You’re strong. You’re beautiful. You’re… ”
He blinked. Shit. None of these words had been planned when he rehearsed this.
She inched forward. “I’m…what?”
“Nothing at all what I expected.”
“So, all this,” she waved a hand toward the tray and the sleeping puppy on the rug, “isn’t just because you feel sorry for me?”
“No. At first it was because I couldn’t stand your fear.
I couldn’t stand the way you panicked in my presence, the way you couldn’t be near me for two seconds, the way you looked at me.
I couldn’t stand knowing I was the cause of so much distress.
It shouldn’t have bothered me. I enjoy when others fear me. But not you. Never you.”
“And then?” She readjusted her position, tucking her legs beneath her on the sofa, turning so that she completely faced him. Pinning him with those deep blue eyes. He stilled under the full attention of her gaze.
His eyes fixed on her hot chocolate, untouched. She seemed to make the same realization and reached for it, cradling the mug between both hands.
“And then I realized that I enjoy our evenings together. I…” He swallowed. “I hope you do too.”
“Why?” She stared at him, her gaze full of challenge. “I’ve offered you nothing. Certainly not my blood. What do you get out of this?”
“I enjoy your company. Is that not believable?” The look she gave confirmed as much. “All right. I like the way you smell.”
It was the understatement of the century. He wanted to bury his nose against her skin, hold her against him, wrap her body around his so that it was the only thing he ever smelled—
She tutted. “We already know that.”
“And…I like your voice.” Her voice was slightly lower than most females. It calmed him, listening to her talk.
“Go on.”
“I like it when you pay attention to me,” he admitted and her eyes softened. “Even if it’s to glare at me. I like when you glare at me. I like it when you snap at me, too. When you get angry with me. I shouldn’t, but I do.”
He needed to stop, but a quick glance in her direction showed her cheeks flushed, so he continued with his honesty.
“I especially like when you look at me. Everywhere. When you look at my body. I like it when you smile. But especially when you laugh. I like trying to learn you. Trying to understand what makes you happy, or angry, or content. I like being the one to give you blood—my blood. I like the way you make my body hum. For the first time in centuries I feel… I…feel.”
Shit. The realization struck him hard and heavy. A long silence followed.
“How…how old are you?” She licked her lips, watching him.
He swung his head in her direction, working up the courage to gaze at her. “Don’t make me answer that.”
“I want to know.”
“Very old.”
“Marco said you were one of the oldest vampires.”
“I am.”
“How old?”
He rubbed his thumb along the fabric of the sofa. “I don’t remember.”
Her mouth opened—
“I’m old, Lily. Very old. That’s all you need to know.”
She took a sip of her hot chocolate. “Is that why your hair is so white?”
A shocked bark of laughter burst from his lips. “No. It’s always been white. My biological mother was half-elven, so I am a quarter. Or I was, before I was turned. Many elves have white hair—pointed ears, too. Hence—“ He tapped the point of his right ear.
“I wondered about that—why you had them all the time when the others don’t.” Her eyes sparkled. “I guess my assumption about your cosplay for Taegan wasn’t so far fetched after all.”
He sighed and let his head fall back against the sofa. “Lily…” Her name was ground out for no other reason than to simply enjoy the sound of it on his tongue.
“Laurie,” she mimicked him.
His head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “Don’t you dare,” he growled.
Something danced in her expression. A playfulness he’d never seen, not toward him. And…he fucking loved it.
“What’s the matter?” she cooed. “The big bad Laurent doesn’t like nicknames?”
“The last person to give me a nickname met an unfortunate end.”
“Oh, I’m sure. I like Laurie. It’s cute.”
“Cute?!” The word eked out of him.
Her lips twitched. “Sorry, I mean, it’s very manly and fearsome.”
“You are unbelievable.” His chest expanded, filling and warming. He held her gaze, hoping she would gather the additional meaning behind his words. Hoping she might see what he saw. That she might understand how much had changed between them. But ultimately, that he truly was sorry for hurting her.
And maybe she did, because at last, she offered him a soft smile. A smile that stabbed straight through his heart. But he’d always liked pain, and this, perhaps, was the best kind of all.