He sighed heavily. “I like what I am, Chloe. I like the heightened senses and the power that comes with it. I like feeling things so intensely it overwhelms me.” He nudged me so I was no longer leaning against him, and then he took my chin into his hand. “I never would have met you if I wasn’t a vampire, so it’s really hard to say I regret my choice, or that I’d go back and do it differently.” His eyes darkened with intensity.
Well, he was right about that—we wouldn’t be here right now if he’d remained a human. “So, you have no regrets whatsoever?” I asked.
“Of course, I have regrets, but not about my choice.” Trent lowered his head, our mouths inches apart. “Does that bother you?” His voice was low and raspy.
“No,” I whispered.
And it really didn’t. He was what he was, and I loved him regardless. Sure, it made our relationship nearly impossible, but when I was with him like this, nothing else mattered.
“Does it bother you that I like being human?” I asked.
“No.” And then his lips were on mine, his tongue teasing and probing.
I closed my eyes and threaded my fingers through his hair. He groaned, and my heart responded with a series of flutters and thunderous beats. He kissed me harder, and I eased back, pulling him with me, and soon, we were laying on the couch, a mess of tangled limbs.
Trent left my mouth and peppered my jaw and neck with tiny, searing kisses before he pulled back enough to look me in the eyes. “Thought you just wanted to talk?” He raised a brow, a teasing smirk lifting his lips.
“You’re the one who kissed me. This is your fault.”
He laughed, then in a flash, he was off me and standing. He held his hands out. I took them, and he yanked me to my feet.
“Let’s make some popcorn and watch a movie. Maybe then you’ll behave and keep your hands to yourself,” he said.
Laughing, I grabbed a couch pillow and tossed it at him, but he was already across the room and in the kitchen.
“That’s not fair.” I walked at a normal, human speed.
I couldn’t imagine moving that fast. If I did change, would I be able to do that, too? Would it make me dizzy like it did when Trent moved me around?
By the time I reached the kitchen, Trent had already put a bag of popcorn in the microwave. He pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I’ll be right back.” And then he was gone.
I hadn’t even seen what direction he’d gone. The microwave beeped. I took out the popcorn and promptly dropped it on the counter.
“Ouch.” That was hotter than I’d expected.
I let it sit for a few moments, then carefully gripped the corners and tugged. The bag wouldn’t open. I looked around for a pair of scissors but couldn’t find any, so I grabbed a knife and stabbed the bag, dragging the blade through it to make sure it was fully open.
My grip slipped, and the tip of the knife slid across my finger. “Ow!” I dropped the bag and the knife.
A spot of red beaded from the cut. Great. I was bleeding. I snatched a napkin and pressed it to my wound.
“I smell blood. What happened?” Trent asked from behind me.
Gasping, I spun around, my heart in my throat. I hated when he snuck up on me like that. “I cut my finger trying to open the popcorn.” I nodded at the mangled bag and the knife. “It’s fine, though. It’s not deep. I just need a band aid.”
“May I?” He gently took my injured hand, and I held my breath.
I’d never bled near him before. Would the smell and sight of my blood make him want to feed? Would he succumb to his bloodlust and do something he’d regret, something that would hurt me?
My hand shook as he removed the napkin and inspected my finger. I stared at his face, watching and waiting for any signs he was going to lose his composure.
“Looks like you just nicked it,” he said.
I nodded. Blood oozed out of the cut and pooled on my fingertip. Gaze locked on me, Trent brought my finger to his lips and put it into his mouth. His eyelids closed, his long, dark lashes fluttering against his cheekbones.
I inhaled sharply, fully expecting utter revulsion and disgust to wash over me. Instead, desire slammed into me. My knees trembled with want. My legs shook with lust. What was happening to me?
My breaths changed from short gasps of fear to ragged pants of need. I stepped closer to Trent, and he released my finger with a hum of satisfaction. His hungry gaze met mine, and I licked my lips, my eyes lowering to his mouth.
He’d just tasted my blood. And he wasn’t going crazy trying to get more, or kill me. The cut had completely stopped bleeding, too.
Then, he cradled my face in his hands and slanted his mouth over mine, his kiss hungrier than his gaze. Every flick of his tongue demanded more. Then, the feelings and memories hit me with the force of a tidal wave.
Fiery lust that raged hotter with each second that passed. Trent looking down at me as I told him I wasn’t ready for him to claim me. Awe and wonder and physical emotions so raw and deep my simple human mind couldn’t comprehend them. His entire body was on fire, burning with need, with love and devotion and… fear. The need to claim me consumed him.
Trent abruptly pulled away and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll finish the popcorn. You go find a movie,” he said.
Stunned and confused, I ambled back to the living room, flopped down on the couch, and picked up the remote. My heart was still racing, and my thoughts were a jumbled, incoherent mess.
A moment later, Trent sat beside me, a bowl of popcorn
