Before she could even begin to think about escaping, she needed to see if that was, indeed, a bathroom door so she walked to the opened door by the fireplace and sure enough, it was. She shut the door behind herself and locked it.
It was at least the size of her living room at home, with a large corner step-up whirlpool tub, separate shower, double vanity, and a little separated area with the toilet and bidet. The walls and counter top were white marble, flecked with gold and black veins. Plush black and red striped towels were piled high in the corner of the vanity beside a giant white ceramic vase filled with a bouquet of red roses. Roses so red they were the colour of blood. Blood.
Iciness flooded her veins at the memory of him drinking her blood. As she relieved herself her hand reached for the bite marks on her inner thigh and her other hand reached for her throat, where he’d also bit her. Both areas were lightly scabbed over.
Kyla steepled her hands over her mouth and balanced her elbows on her knees as she sat on the toilet and again felt like her heart was in her throat. She let out a deep breath.
What the heck do I do now?
She heard a noise outside the door. She wiped with toilet tissue, jumped up, flushed the toilet, and turned the water on loudly. As she washed her hands she spotted her reflection in the mirror. Her big green eyes didn’t have the darkish rings around them that she had become accustomed to seeing. Her long dark curly hair was looking a bit wild but her cheeks were pink and rosy. Her skin was moist and dewy looking. Two orgasms. Two orgasms that rendered every so-called orgasm she’d had before them utterly inconsequential. She shuddered, feeling heat rise in her face. She bit down on her bottom lip and then shook off the trance and splashed cold water over her face.
“Kyla?” She knew that caramel-smooth voice already. It was him, outside the door. She felt her nipples tingle in response to his voice. Her brows furrowed at that reaction and fear spiked. What now?
She dried her face quickly and stood frozen for what seemed like a long time staring in the mirror with the water running and taking slow breath after slow breath. She heard a click and then the doorknob turned and opened and there he was. He moved to stand beside her and looked at her in the mirror, guardedly.
She bit down on her tongue and remained frozen, rigid with tension. He was half naked and he had a reflection in the mirror.
Weren’t vampires supposed to be invisible in a mirror?
And he was gorgeous, maybe even more gorgeous in broad daylight. He looked directly into her eyes via the mirror. He wore a pair of black gym shorts and nothing else. He was glistening, like he’d just worked out. He leaned over and turned the taps off. She watched his shoulder and arm muscles ripple. He was ripped like a professional athlete. Then she glanced down to his navel and his happy trail. She caught her lower lip with her top teeth and bit hard.
“So…” he said, looking cautiously at her reflection, but it seemed like his blue eyes pierced into hers and awakened sensations low in her belly. A moment passed where he stared at her. She could only imagine he was again trying to put her in a trance or pull her into his eyes like they were lasers that would suck her in and render her an assimilated drone. No one had ever looked at her like that, so deep into her eyes. Never.
With that bit of scruff on his face, dimpled chin, and dark wavy damp hair that fell in soft waves he might have been the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. She blushed and looked at the floor briefly and then back into the mirror. There was no way she could ever have bedded this guy in the normal way. She’d have been too intimidated to even think about it and she was pretty sure that there would be no way he’d bother to even look twice at her.
He turned and gently took her by the shoulders so they were facing one another. He looked her right in the eyes, lowered his chin for a beat, then he nodded slowly, “You’re still lucid, obviously.”
“If that’s what you call this,” Kyla felt a twinge at his touch thinking, and you still smell like dessert…
“Can’t say I’m disappointed,” he smirked, released her, and walked over to the tub and turned the taps until they sprang to life, startling her with the noise. He leaned over and opened a bottle of expensive-looking bath oil that was on a shelf above the taps and poured some in and then walked back to where she stood and plucked the head off of two of the roses and crumpled them over the tub until petals fell in, “Hop in,” he said and motioned toward the tub. He hit a wall switch with his palm and the ceiling opened up as skylight blinds receded and revealed blue sky punctuated with fluffy clouds. He hit another switch beside the first one and jets started going. He left. She reached over and shut and re-locked the door.