Page 12 of Your Fangtasy

He’s been vague with me since the kitchen, and I’m second-guessing myself for not keeping the pan handy. I should have held onto it, but for whatever reason, I don’t feel like I need it. Maybe for intimidation’s sake, but Gray has already proven that he isn’t the kind of vampire who’s afraid of a woman wielding a frying pan.

“My house, my rules,” I declare. “I get to ask the questions now.”

“Fair enough.”

“So, talk. What happened?” I tilt my head, unable to pull my eyes away from the peekaboo of skin at his waistline. He’s wearing the gray sweats from earlier, and they’re doing verylittle to conceal what should be tucked away. My mind imagines a million different things, and I lick my lips.

Keep it in your pants, girl,I chide myself.

“Why don’t we relocate,” he suggests, gesturing towards my mess. “It’s a bit cramped in here.”

Heat seizes me. “Rude, but fine.”

I stand and grab a stray sweatshirt from the floor before marching out ahead of him. I slip it over my head to conceal my outfit since I’m still dressed for the club. It isn’t much, but I feel less naked with it on. Having most of my tits out for a conversation with a vampire doesn’t exactly spell out ‘serious business.’ Once we’re in the living room, I take the seat closest to the front door. He smirks, as if that’s funny.

“Comfortable?” he asks, sitting across from me in the new armchair I bought last week from an estate sale. The highback Victorian look clashes badly with his fit, even though I could guess that he's older than the chair.

“Very,” I say, crossing my arms. “Your turn.”

“Very comfortable.” He nods.

“No. I mean, it’s your turn.” I frown. “What happened? How did we get back here?”

Gray reclines in the chair, legs spread wide. Folding his hands together, he rests them on his chest, eyes level with mine. “You were in and out of it, barely able to keep your eyes open. The scent of your blood was strong enough that I could trace you back to your home.”

“That’s not at all creepy,” I say, shivering.

“Would you have preferred to wake up inside the church tower, half-naked, beside a dead body?” he asks dryly. I huff a small ‘no’ in reply. “I thought not.”

“Okay, so how did we get in? Don’t vampires need to be invited inside?”

He nods. “We do, yes. And you did invite me inafterI woke you up.”

“I don’t remember that.”

A smirk crosses his lips as he speaks. “There isn’t a lot that you do remember,sweet cheeks. That’s why we’re here.”

Ignoring his comment, I pull my sweatshirt closer and forge on. “Okay, so I invited you in, half-conscious?”

“Yes.”

Memory loss sucks. When the night’s events did come back, they faded just as quickly as a dream after waking. I keep trying to pull at them, but the details are murky now. It’s not just disappointing, it’s downright frustrating. I’m never getting drunk or stalked into a church again. Ever.

“How long were you up there?” I ask.

“As I said before. I was left there for a hundred years.”

“Thatdoessound familiar,” I admit, though I’m a little embarrassed. Even after he touched me, some of the details are still fuzzy.

“I’ve had long sleeps before,” he says with a slight shake of his head, “but nothing so drastic as a century.”

“What did you do to deserve that?” My curiosity is getting the best of me.

“I was very naughty,” Gray admits, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Do I want details?”

“I’m a vampire. I’m sure you can guess what kind of horrible things I’ve done.”