Black Sunshine: A Dark Vampire Romance

I frown. “But that includes our lunch.”

“I’m sorry. Couldn’t let it stand. They’d then ask around at the restaurant and Hector would say we were there. Better to erase it then to have them sniffing around me as a murder suspect.”

“Well, I’m sure you could compel whoever investigated you.”

He gives me a wry look. “I could. But why invite complication into your life?”

“I don’t know. Seems like the moment I met you, my life’s been nothing but a complication.”

He gives me a brief smile. “They probably will contact you at some point though, I’m sure they’re going through all her friends. Be much easier if they already had a suspect.”

“We know who killed her.”

“We do. But Atlas has a dark history. He’s not sticking around here. His mother killed his father, she later killed herself, and his stepfather was found drowned in a lake in Seattle. Regardless of if what happened to Elle was an accident or not, he’s not stupid. At least we can rest a bit easier knowing he won’t step back into this city.”

“You really think I’ll rest easier?”

He shakes his head. “No.” He gets up. “Do you want a drink?”

“What time is it?”

“Time is a construct,” he says, going over to a table with a bottle of Scotch on it, along with two glasses.

I sigh. “I guess.”

I watch him as he pours the drinks, admiring the size of his biceps in that shirt, his ass in those pants. Marveling at how I had him naked, all to myself, deep inside me. There is so much I want to talk to him about, so much I want to do with him. But there’s a little bit of distance between us today, like we’ve taken a step backward, and I’m not sure how to navigate it. I guess I can just pretend we never had sex, but that’s not going to be easy. Not even a little.

He comes over to me and hands me my drink.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice coming out small.

But instead of sitting down beside me, like I hoped he would, he goes back to his chair and settles in, cool, calm, collected as ever.

I have a taste of my drink, enjoying the burn. I lick my lips and look at him. “Do you feel any different?”

“Hmm?” he asks, mid-sip. “What?”

“From my blood. You drank quite a bit of it, from what I remember.”

If it’s possible for him to look chagrined, he does. “Sorry about that.”

“I don’t want you to apologize,” I tell him adamantly. “I’m just curious. Did it affect you in anyway?”

He rubs his lips together, looking down into his glass. “A little.”

“In what way?”

He keeps his eyes averted. “I have…cravings.” He clears his throat, finally meets my eyes. “But I can keep them in check.”

“What kind of cravings?” I ask, taking another gulp of my drink before setting it down beside me. “Do you want my blood? Or do you want me?”

He stares at me steadily, his gaze growing hot. “Both.”

I get up and cross over to him. His eyes don’t leave mine as I climb onto his chair, straddling him, putting my hands around his neck, his skin cool against my palms.

“You can have both,” I tell him, meaning it.

His gaze grows smokier.

“Lenore…”

“Solon.” I adjust myself on him, feeling his cock harden beneath me.

“You’re certainly a wicked little creature, aren’t you?” he murmurs, placing his hand on the back of my bare thigh, sliding it up until it reaches my ass.

“I have a good teacher,” I reply, leaning in to kiss his neck. The feel of his skin against my lips makes my eyelids shutter closed.

Solon lets out a low groan, his grip tight on my ass. “You’re not going to bite me, are you?” he asks, breath heavy. “Because I rather like this shirt.”

I smile against his skin, breathing him in, letting it wash over me. I bring my mouth up below his ear, lick the edge of his lobe.

“Christ,” he swears, stiffening beneath me, inhaling sharply.

I pull back and then run my thumb over his lip for a moment, taking in his beautiful face before I lower my face and kiss him.

He moans against my mouth, lips opening to mine, soft, sweet, seductive.

Jesus, this is good.

My tongue slides in, meeting his, seeking intimacy between us. It’s kindling the heat that’s already rushing through my veins, that feeling of needing to connect to him in every way possible.

He bites my bottom lip, giving it a little tug, followed by a throaty growl that makes my body feel like a fireworks display.

Then he takes his hand and wraps my hair around it, pulling my face away from his neck, making me meet his eyes. “We got lucky last time. No one got hurt.”

“What are you so afraid of?” I ask, trying to calm a racing heart that feels too big for my chest. “I told you, I can handle you.”