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He scoffs. "Not all of them. I don't fuck my brother. I've never fucked Eli. I don't fuck Alana anymore, either—I think she's afraid of me."

"Wow. Okay."

"Do you really drink blood?" Kelly asks.

Shit. They're still standing there?

"Sometimes," he says.

The server shows up to take our plates, and I'm grateful for the interruption.

"Thank you," he says, then waves the girls off and tells them to have a good night.

"Can I get you guys anything else? Another round of drinks?" the server asks as they go.

"Please," he says.

She walks away, and he reaches across the table and grabs my hand. "I miss you."

"What do you mean?" I ask. "We've barely been apart for the last twenty-four hours.

"Yeah, but you're all the way over there. Come sit on my lap."

I shake my head. "No way. Everyone is already staring at us. This isn't a nightclub. It'll look like I'm making a scene."

"A scene?"

"Yeah, about being here with you."

Luca smiles, then gets up, moves to my side of the booth, and pulls me into his lap. "Well, then I'll make the scene."

He brings his mouth to mine and kisses me slowly, sensually.

"We should go back to the hotel," I tell him.

"And then what?" he asks, moving onto my neck.

"I'm not sore anymore," I whisper. "You don't have to be careful with me; I don't want you to be."

"You're going to figure out that you shouldn't say things like that to me in public," Luca says. He slips his hand underneath my shirt, then sinks his teeth into my shoulder. I suck in a breath and push his head back.

"Ow…Luca!"

He nuzzles back into my neck and tightens his hold on me. "I want to hurt you. I want to taste blood again. Do you want to taste mine, too? I'll let you."

Yes.

"I'll be right back…then we can leave."

I kiss him, then walk to the restroom. When I finish, I wash my hands, run my fingers through my hair a few times, and reapply my lipstick.

Then, the lights go out. I freeze in the pitch-black space, waiting for them to turn back on.

"What the fuck?" I say aloud.

I cap the lipstick and feel around the countertop until I find my purse. I stuff it inside when I hear footsteps behind me.

"I know it's you," I tell him. "I can smell you. You always smell good."