Page 94 of My Roommate Is a Vampire

“I don’t know why anyone would do something like this,” McNiven said. “As pranks go, this might be one of the worst. Blood saves lives.”

Frederick—and his bare chest—were waiting for me in the living room when I stumbled out of his bedroom at dawn the next morning. He was on the sofa, leafing through a newspaper with a slight frown on his face.

“Good morning.”

At the sound of my voice he looked up, setting his newspaper to the side.

“Good morning.” He smiled at me, a bit shy—which was a bit ridiculous, given how we’d spent a good portion of the previous evening. I was a little surprised to see how coiffed and put-together he looked, given that I could tell without even checking a mirror that I was sporting the most ridiculous bedhead in the history of the world.

Then I remembered that he’d left the bedroom with an apology shortly after midnight and hadn’t slept beside me at all.

“What time is it?” I asked. “I need to be at work at eight-thirty.”

“It’s just after six.” He stood and walked over to me, placing his hands on either side of my waist. Or, more accurately—on either side of the general vicinity of my waist. I was wrapped from chest to toe in one of his soft red satin sheets. Anatomical accuracy was difficult. “My bedsheet suits you.”

I snorted. “I didn’t get dressed again last night after... well.” I trailed off, blushing. “Wrapping up in this sheet was easier than finding where you’d tossed my underwear.”

He hummed, and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “You look divine.”

“I do not.”

“I hope you never wear anything else.”

He kissed me then, chaste and tender. I placed my hands on his chest and leaned in, enjoying the soft brush of his lips against mine.

“I’m surprised you’re not dressed,” I mused. “It’s not like you were asleep all this time.”

My fingertips traced the outline of a jagged, prominent scar just below his right nipple. I wanted to ask him how he got it. If it happened while he was still human, or after. But now wasn’t the time.

“Going forward I intend to spend as much time shirtless as possible.”

I huffed a surprised laugh. “What?”

“You like it when I don’t wear a shirt,” he said, as matter-of-factly as if he were telling me rain was in the forecast. “You like it a lot, in fact. I like doing things that please you.”

I hadn’t exactly tried to hide how into his body I was, but the way he’d phrased this made me wonder something.

“Can youtellthat I like it when you don’t wear a shirt?” I ran my hand down his fabulous chest for good measure. “Beyond me simply telling you that you have a great body, I mean.”

He smiled, bashful. “Your scent changes subtly, but unmistakably, when you are aroused.”

My eyes widened in surprise. That was a new one.

“It does?”

He nodded. “Until last night I told myself I was mistaken, that it was simply wishful thinking on my part.” His smile turned devilish when he leaned in and pressed his lips to my ear. “I know now, though, that I was right.”

I thought back to the way he’d all but breathed me in last night, and I shivered, gooseflesh erupting on my arms. It should have weirded me out, the idea that my scent changed when I was turned on and that Frederick could sense it. But for some reason—maybe because it was Frederick who was telling me this—it didn’t.

His hands started working their way beneath the place where I’d cinched the bedsheet closed around my body. “I want to be inside you again, Cassie,” he whispered into my ear. He pulled me closer, until I could feel every inch of his need jutting hard and urgently against my stomach. “Last night was glorious beyond anything I could have imagined. But I want more.”

I shuddered, throwing my arms around him and burying my face in his shoulder.

I mentallyscreamedat Marcie for signing me up for a Saturday morning shift.

“I want that, too,” I said. “But unfortunately, I have to go to work.”

Frederick groaned and pulled back from me. My body was screaming at Marcie now, too.