Trent stood behind me, arms wrapped around my stomach, and he nuzzled his face against my neck. His breath against the fresh bite mark sent a shiver through me. I playfully but firmly elbowed him and wiggled out of his hold. I loved this overly affectionate side of Trent, but now was so not the time for it.
“I need to go, but I wanted to make sure everything was good with our plan.” Isach’s gaze stayed focused on Trent.
“Yes.” Trent sighed. “We’re good if Abby’s good.”
Abby nodded. “Whatever I can do to help, I will.” She smiled up at Isach. “I’d really like to have my boyfriend back.”
I really wanted her to have him back, too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:
We’re Doing This
TRENT AND I LAY IN HIS bed, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. Raucous laughter filtered in from the living room, slicing through our solitude.
Groaning, Trent draped his arm over his face. “I totally get it now,” he said.
“Get what?”
“When you said you missed me. Us.” He turned his head to look at me. “You were right earlier. Want to get out of here?”
“And go where?” I asked with a laugh.
“Some place where it’s just you and me, and we can be together without interruption,” he said. “Maybe get a room at the Inn for the night.”
I smiled. “Sure.”
“Good.” He kissed my forehead, then flung the blankets off.
We were both fully dressed, and it didn’t take us long to pack an overnight bag. Minutes later, we were pulling in to the Ausable Inn, and moments after that, we had a room. Thank God it wasn’t tourist season, which meant the Inn wasn’t full, but it was quiet.
Trent dropped our bag on the floor just inside the door, then engaged the lock. “This is so much better,” he said.
“I’m going to take a quick shower,” I said, grabbing the bag and heading for the bathroom before he distracted me.
Keeping the door open a crack so the steam from the shower wouldn’t turn the small bathroom into a sauna, I stripped out of my clothes and slipped on one of the complimentary robes before digging around in the bag for the razor I’d packed.
The brand new, very sharp blade slid easily across my fingertip. “Ouch.” I jerked my hand back and stuck my finger into my mouth.
The bag toppled to the floor, spilling our clothes and toiletries and, of course, the stupid razor. I glared at all the stuff.
“Chloe?” Trent knocked on the door, causing it to swing open wider. “Everything okay in here?”
“Yeah.” I plucked my finger from my mouth. “I cut myself on the razor.” I frowned.
There probably weren’t any band-aids anywhere in this bathroom, either. Fresh blood oozed from the cut and dripped into the sink.
“Let me see,” he said reaching for my hand.
Instinctively, I moved away from him. After what happened earlier when Trent bit me and drank a little too much, the last thing he—or I—needed was for the scent of my blood to send him over the edge.
“No, it’s okay,” I said. “I’m fine.”
“So am I,” he said with a sigh, clearly still upset with himself for what had happened. “Sorry to have barged in.” He turned to leave.
“Trent. Wait,” I said, grabbing his arm. “I just don’t want to make this harder on you.”
His expression softened. “We still have a while before I change you. I don’t want this to be an issue for us.” He nodded toward the sink where several more droplets of blood had splattered.
“Me either,” I whispered.
Heart in my throat, I held my hand out to him. I knew he’d never hurt me, and he hadn’t exactly hurt me earlier, though he did scare me a little. If he ever did anything to me, it wouldn’t be intentional, and I took comfort in the knowledge that our lives were linked—if nothing else, his own self-preservation would stop him before he accidentally killed me.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
I nodded.
Trent cradled my hand in his and brought my finger to his lips. His lashes fluttered, and his eyes closed. A satisfied “hmm” rumbled from him as he closed his mouth around my finger.
I swallowed hard as tiny sparks of ecstasy snapped across my skin, traveling from my hand, up my arm, and spreading across my chest. My face heated, and I fought to draw in a deep breath. I took a step closer, suddenly very desperate to feel him next to me.
He released my finger from his mouth, yanked me closer, and then slanted his lips over mine. But I’d barely registered his kiss before he moved to stand behind me, dragging my hair away from my neck as he did.
I stood frozen, waiting to see what he’d do. My heart thrashed in my chest, and there was nothing I could do to calm the violent, erratic thumping.
His fingers grazed the bite mark, and I bit down on my lip, whimpering at the sensations ricocheting through me. He draped my hair over my shoulder and gently tugged the arm of the robe down my shoulder, which he then proceeded to pepper with hot, hungry kisses.
I leaned back against him, and he slid one arm around my stomach, holding me tightly to his body.
“I made you a promise,” he whispered, his breath warm and inviting on my skin as his kisses moved up the column of my neck. “And I don’t ever want to break a promise to you.”
He was talking about biting me for pleasure—he had to be, because there wasn’t any other promise he’d made me that he hadn’t already fulfilled.
“You don’t have to,” I said.
But even as the words left my mouth, they were weak. Despite everything, I still really wanted Trent to bite me again, because when I thought about it, I thought about the time he claimed me, not whatever he’d done today. That wasn’t really him, and I knew that.
“Maybe I want to,” he said, his voice husky.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then
