Eternity and a Year by Ranae Rose Page B

of the building for you,” Brendan said when he and Carrie finally stood before the hospital doors. “I think with the way I look right now, I’d do more harm than good if I went inside with you.”
    Carrie surveyed Brendan, who was bare from the waist up and glowing pale, save for where she had smudged his chest with grime. His eyes shone red in the darkness, and he had forgotten his shoes. He looked wildly, dangerously sexy, but she guessed some people might not see past the ‘wild’ and ‘dangerous’ parts. “I suppose you’re right,” she said. “But you’ll be waiting when I get out, won’t you?”
    He nodded.
    Carrie rose to her tiptoes and pressed her mouth firmly against his. He responded with surprising passion, seeking out the darkest recesses of her mouth with his tongue.
    “I’ll be waiting,” he said when he finally released her.

Chapter Six
     
     
     
    Brendan paused only to close the apartment’s front door behind him and slide the lock into place before resuming the kiss they had reluctantly ended in front of the hospital nearly three hours before. Carrie had spent nearly half that time talking to a very suspicious nurse and a doctor who had remembered her from last time and had wanted to call a police officer. Despite their questions and insinuations she was in some sort of trouble and needed help, she’d refused to admit anything of the sort. There was little a human could do about a creature like Isadora, and mentioning her would be likely to call her mental health into question. So she’d stubbornly stuck to her story of tripping and falling—twice. The doctor and nurse hadn’t been fooled, and she thought ruefully they probably suspected her to be involved with drugs or some other illegal activity, like prostitution. And though she would never admit it, Brendan excited her as much as any drug.
    Her heart beat faster against his still, cool chest as his lips covered hers, eager and insistent. She gripped his shoulders, digging her fingernails into the bare body she’d been lusting after during the entire walk home. He cradled her face between his hands a little too tightly, and she drew breath sharply, breaking the seal of their kiss.
    Brendan released her, settling his hands on her shoulders instead. “Come to the bedroom with me.”
    Carrie stared down at the oversized, borrowed shirt she wore, as if she could see her dirt-smudged breasts and stomach beneath it. “I’m filthy,” she protested, despite her body’s urges to forget about the grime and obey him. “I need to take a shower first.”
    “You don’t need to do anything,” Brendan said. “I would have made love to you on the floor there in the building if you hadn’t been hurt.”
    Carrie wrinkled her nose as the stench of burning heart flooded back to her.
    “Okay, on the third floor, then,” he said, brushing a lock of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear.
    “You have a one-track mind,” Carrie remarked. “And after meeting two more vampires, I’m beginning to think you’re all that way.”
    Brendan lowered his gaze but smiled. “Two-track, really. Blood and sex. The two of which aren’t completely unrelated.”
    Carrie smiled faintly, which apparently went unnoticed by Brendan.
    “I know it must seem horrible,” he said, “but there, in the building, when Isadora had you, I was so scared, but…but you looked so good.” He moaned faintly and fondled Carrie’s breasts through the thin fabric of the cotton shirt he’d lent her, pressing his palms against her barely-shielded nipples as they hardened beneath his touch. “I wished…that I could have been the one to put my hand in your hair and pull your head back—gently, though—and see your breasts point up at me.” He wound his fingers in the locks at the nape of her neck and tugged gently in demonstration. Carrie arched backwards slightly, her nipples pointing sharply as if they would pierce the fabric of her borrowed shirt.