Page 7 of My Boyfriend Bites (A Moonstruck Mating #3)

The moment Selene entered her room she took a hot shower with much soap. While the bathe she’d taken in the jungle had rinsed her clean of lingering blood, she still felt the stains that wouldn’t wash away. It should be known she’d killed before. Recently too. Some thugs had threatened her mother, and Selene lost it. She’d unalived the attackers, and surprisingly, she’d felt little guilt over it. Just like she didn’t feel much regret over what she’d done in the jungle.

When she’d killed the chupacabra, she’d uttered a long howl of victory. After all, despite the odds, she’d won. Then the adrenaline faded, and she shifted, returning to her human body, human morals, and human dilemma.

A glance at the bloody encampment and bodies had left her cussing. “Oh bloody heck. I’ll never be able to clean this up and make it to the ship in time.” Then again, why bother wiping the scene? The men had obviously died by animal attack, and she had no time to spare.

She also had nothing to wash with. The jug of water she’d found had barely enough to rinse her hands and face, hence why she’d packed her clothes in the satchel and looked through the huts for a shirt that didn’t reek too badly. Before riding off into the jungle, she’d tried to ascertain which direction to go. There were numerous trails leading into the camp, and she’d not paid as close attention as she should have when they arrived. When she finally selected one, she somehow got turned around, as she never made it to the road. However, going back wasn’t an option at that point, as the ATV ran out of gas. Once on foot, she’d followed her nose to water.

She’d been bathing when Dante found her. An impossible feat. She didn’t care what he claimed; no one was that good at tracking. Unless… Could he have a secret like her? He didn’t give off a wolfish vibe. What else could he be, though?

Knowing of Dante’s allergy to the sun, her mind went to the obvious. Vampire. Utterly silly. Blood suckers, like elves and dragons and other fantastical creatures, didn’t exist.

That she knew of.

Then again, werewolves weren’t supposed to be real either. Could it be possible? How to find out?

She gnawed the tip of her thumb. Exposing him to sunlight would be cruel. Tempt him with her neck at dinner. Sure, if he bit and decided to suck the life out of her, that would be proof but also the last thing he ever did.

This entire train of thought was crazy. No way was Dante a vampire. After all, wouldn’t the passengers be freaking if people woke with bite marks? And if they were drained to death, someone would surely have noticed. Then again, would she have heard any rumors, seeing as how she didn’t socialize much? Not to mention, the cruise line staff would probably be tight-lipped to avoid panic.

The thought of panic led her gaze to the tablet. She’d last messaged her mom that morning. Should she tell her what happened?

No. Not over text. The internet might not be secure, and the story she had to relay? Definitely not something she wanted read by strangers.

However, she could do an internet search on vampires to set her mind at ease. Dante wasn’t a creature of the night. She’d prove it.

A gazillion hits and most of them garbage, no matter what she typed.

A listing of vampire characteristics gave her the basics she already knew from movies and books. Super-fast healing. Immortality. Couldn’t handle sunlight. Fed on blood. Then there were the fangs, increased strength and speed, enhanced senses.

Of that, she could only be sure of his sunlight allergy and perhaps the last part about his senses. After all, he’d managed to find her in a jungle in the dark.

As for the rest…

Short of stabbing him with a fork, she couldn’t tell how he healed. He’d invited her to dinner, so she assumed he’d be eating real food—or a really rare steak. Which, to be fair, was how she preferred hers. His teeth appeared normal, maybe his canines a bit more pronounced, but then again so were hers. Speed? She could challenge him to a race, seeing as how she was pretty quick.

What was she even thinking? Would she seriously test Dante to see if he could be a vampire?

Nuts. But then again, some would say that about her being a lycan.

Further searches had mention of them turning into bats or smoke. How it took one bite, three bites, or an exchange of blood to make a new vamp. Everyone on the internet had a theory.

With that line of inquiry coming up short, she chose to search Dante next, typing in his name and turning up nothing. Not a single social media account, article, nada. He definitely liked his privacy. It wasn’t proof of anything, seeing as how she also kept her own life and identity away from the public eye.

Too restless to sleep, she chose to bun her wet hair, slipped on a summer dress, and headed out for a stroll on the walking/jogging track that ran the length of the ship. She glanced at Dante’s cabin door as she left, wondering if he were inside or out and about. Probably the latter. Why come on a cruise only to hide away? Then again, why come on a Caribbean cruise while allergic to sunshine?

As Selene headed for the eleventh deck with the track, she noticed staff hanging decorations. Fat red hearts. Cupids with bows and arrows. She’d forgotten Valentine’s Day was around the corner. Wait, was it tomorrow, the night she’d be having dinner with Dante? She’d lost track of time.

Did he know? Would he care? Some put great value on the day, calling it the most romantic. Not in her book. Selene hadn’t paid Valentine’s Day much mind since she’d graduated high school. Even then, it hadn’t been a big deal, not like in elementary school when the girls would carefully label cards for everyone in their class, even the annoying boys who liked to tease.

Knowing her mom, she’d be delighted to know Selene had a date. Actually, more like shocked. Mom would be even more astonished if she knew Selene was thinking of what would come after dinner and dessert. Dante’s kiss had been short but titillating. She wouldn’t mind a longer one, but she’d have to be careful. Already he excited her senses a fair bit, so she could only imagine how adrenalizing sex would be. Imagine being the key word. Selene remained a virgin.

Hard to give up the cherry when a fear of turning furry during the act had her breaking things off when they got too hot and heavy for her to handle.

Her family didn’t realize the extent of her problem. They thought only anger acted as a trigger because Selene hadn’t wanted to admit she couldn’t control her wolf. Didn’t want them to know that falling in love could jeopardize their safety. The number one rule their dad ingrained in their heads? Don’t let anyone know you’re lycan.

Her secret almost came out in college. A guy who’d had too much to drink hadn’t taken no for an answer. It ended with him getting bitten. The only reason Selene hadn’t been caught? Because the cops didn’t believe him. It helped that Selene acted innocent and told them she ran away when the big dog came out of nowhere. They assumed he’d been too drunk and ignored his claim she’d been the canine that chomped him. In that case, it had been anger, not passion, that triggered, but the problem remained the same nonetheless.

She couldn’t get close to anyone. Perhaps it might be time to see if the drugs could help, but if she dulled her senses, she could forget feeling pleasure. A catch twenty-two.

The night air proved refreshing and the track empty this time of night. Just how she liked it. Her rapid pace brought her quickly past the area overlooking the pool, the water placid, as no one currently soaked, and, yes, she meant soak, not swim, because quite honestly the small body of water even when not crowded didn’t allow for laps.

The cabanas lining the track had their curtains pulled back, revealing empty lounging beds. A good spot for reading if one didn’t mind the noise during the day. As she neared the far curve of the circuit, a closed curtain indicated not everyone had adjourned for the day. She quickened her pace, not wanting to interrupt whoever remained, only to slow and then pause completely as her nose twitched. Her sense of smell might not be the greatest in this form, but it did recognize death.

Not the decaying version most people thought of, but that of a fresh corpse, slowly releasing its gases.

Curiosity had her pulling aside the canvas, wanting to make sure before she notified anyone. The body within, that of a young male, sprawled atop the daybed, wearing only swim trunks, his expression frozen in a rictus of surprise, his body stiff. The smell of his bowels having released pungent enough she almost gagged.

The first thought that came to mind? Overdose. Despite the ban on drugs on board the ship, she’d seen people under the influence since the voyage began. What a shame yet another young person had succumbed to the dangerous allure.

As she went to release the drape, debating whether to get involved or let it be discovered on its own, she noticed marks on his inner thigh. Two punctures surrounded by slight bruising, but no red stains.

Immediately her mind flashed to a vampire. It seemed too much of a coincidence that she’d been thinking of them earlier, wondering about Dante being one, and then found a body devoid of blood.

It surprised Dante would be so careless as to leave the corpse to be found. Or had she interrupted? A glance around showed no one on the track with her, nor had she scented his distinct cologne. Add in the fact the body wasn’t fresh and she doubted the killer remained close by.

Her lips pinched as she wondered what to do.

She chose to walk away.

Rapidly.

Let the crew handle it.

She had bigger problems. She’d accepted dinner with a vampire. A killer.

Should she cancel?

A mental flash of what she’d done in the jungle reminded that she’d slaughtered a half-dozen men because her wolfish nature wouldn’t let her flee. She’d done what she needed to survive. With that in mind, how could she judge a vampire who drained humans to feed? They both had instincts and needs that they couldn’t necessarily fight.

Accepting his diet, though, still left her with the bigger question of, would he try and suck on her as his Valentine’s Day special? He’d be in for a surprise if he tried.

Assuming she was correct. After all, she’d not scented Dante’s distinctive cologne around that curtained cabana. Could it be someone else? The ship held a few thousand people. How could she find out?

What about flicking Dante with holy water—which she didn’t have. Showing him a cross—acquirable but with no belief behind it. Perhaps there was a simpler test, like say, accidentally cutting herself in front of him and seeing how he’d react. If he attacked or began licking his lips in hunger, she’d know.

Which led her to the conundrum, if he were a blood sucker, what would she do about it?

Have sex. Because it suddenly occurred to her, why not lose her cherry, and control, with someone expendable?

How cold. Too cold for the usually sweet-natured Selene. She sighed as she returned to her room. Conflicted by her thoughts, roiling with emotions, and—despite what she suspected Dante might be—still much too attracted to the handsome man across the hall.