Pool of Crimson by Suzanne M. Sabol

I was safe. My gut still churned with the unease of remembered terror, overshadowing the rush of adrenaline that had been coursing through my veins only an hour ago.
    “Don’t be such a pussy,” I chastised myself as I climbed the stairs with feet that felt as heavy as lead. I had to get some sleep. Jade and I were meeting with Officer Hamlin first thing in the morning to go over our information from the accident. Jade still had to give an official statement. I couldn’t go in there tired. I had to be alert and at my best. I stripped down to my panties and crawled into bed.
    “Your heart is racing,” Patrick said softly in that thick velvety voice. He brushed his cool full lips against mine in a whisper of soft flesh and cool breath.
    Pleasure swept over me, making me tingle from head to toe as my knees buckled. I flung my arms around his neck in reckless abandon. I marveled that I fit perfectly in his arms. The next thing I knew, I was cradled against him, staring up into his dark eyes. He looked down at me with longing.
    “Invite me in,” he said in a soft plea that melted my insides.
    I couldn’t deny him anything. “Please, come in,” I begged, without a second’s thought for the consequences. He carried me inside, then shut the door behind him in a smooth flow of arms and legs that looked almost boneless, like a cat hunting its prey. His dark eyes bored into mine.
    “I never imagined you in my house,” I said with a laugh of disbelief. I watched him cautiously, like a lonely gazelle on the savannah.
    “Where did you imagine me?” he asked playfully. The corners of his mouth turned up in delight as he teased me. He took my hand in his and rubbed his thumb along the outside of my hand.
    It felt good, really good.
    He tilted my chin up and held my face firmly in his hands. The soft pressure of his cool fingertips pressing into my skin felt like a burn. I couldn’t escape him even if I wanted to.
    Patrick lightly pressed his soft, full lips against mine. When I didn’t pull away, his kiss deepened, becoming more eager in a hard crush of passion. His lips parted, and my own lips flowered in response. I slid my hands easily up the front of his body. His chest was like silk-covered stone, hard and smooth. He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, then bit down lightly as he growled softly in my mouth.
    I ran my fingers through his thick, black hair. It was coarse, but soft as it slipped through my fingers.
    Dear Lord, I wanted him. I wanted Patrick. I’d wanted him since I’d first seen him smirk at me with those dark eyes in the art gallery. He looked at me in a way that made me feel naked and exposed before him. I felt sexy and beautiful. I liked it.
    Patrick’s hands glided gently down my back and over my backside, touching as much of me as his hands could cover. I was sure that there weren’t enough Hail Mary’s in the world to make up for sleeping with a vampire.
    I pulled away from his ridiculously soft lips to catch my breath. I had to get my head on straight. I couldn’t think while he kissed me. My mind turned to mush and my better judgment went right along with it. There was a look of desire and anguish in his eyes that I’d never seen before in any man. My body tingled from my hair to my toes and desire tightened low in my body, pulsing with want.
    “Patrick,” I breathed in a husky voice that sounded foreign coming from my lips.
    He laid me down on my bed. His fingers slid softly down my torso, my legs, and down to my feet. My skin sizzled as his fingers trailed cool lines of desire down my body. It took everything I had to remain still and wait.
    My brain screamed at me to stop him, but as I watched his fingers on my pale skin and the intensity of his desire in those dark eyes, I didn’t want him to stop.
    I arched my body up to meet his touch at every point. He pulled off my pumps and dropped them gently on the floor beside the bed.
    The muscles in his shoulders were taut with tension,