He also had the most immaculate, thick black eyebrows that formed a perfectly roguish little swoop above his eyes. They were brows made for suggestive glances and playful, lopsided arches.
“Um,” I said. Hearing my own voice felt like getting hit with an ice-cold bucket of what the hell am I doing. “Believe it or not, I have no idea how or why I’m here.”
“You’re here,” he said breathlessly. He was watching me like a dog might watch a strip of bacon.
“For some reason.” I laughed a little, more out of discomfort than finding any real humor in the situation. Why was a man as bone-breakingly hot as this guy looking at me like he wanted to strip me naked and give me the best sex of my life? “I don’t even know your name, let alone why I came.”
“I’m Lucian Undergrove. Come in,” he said, gesturing.
But he didn’t move from the door, so when I stepped forward, I was forced to brush against his body. The simple contact of my shoulder against his firm stomach was enough to make my blood feel like it was about to boil. The man was built out of lean muscle and sharp lines.
I pressed the backs of my hands to my cheeks, feeling how incredibly flushed I was.
What the hell?
But when I looked at the man, I saw he wasn’t doing much better. He looked like he was barely holding something in.
“Don’t try anything funny,” I said, summoning some courage I didn’t quite feel. Worse, I was pretty sure I actually wanted him to try several funny things that started with the removal of clothing. “I bite,” I warned.
“Me too,” he said, the corner of his mouth twisting up sexily. His eyes were absolutely smoldering, and I thought I was probably burning about fifty calories a minute with how much heat my body was generating around him.
“What’s happening?” I asked. I didn’t ask the real question on my mind. Why do I feel an overwhelming urge to jump your sexy bones even though I don’t know you?
His nostrils flared out with each breath he took in. “It’s the bond,” he explained. “It will be strongest at first and fade with time. Sit. It will be better if we’re not quite so close.” He took a merciful step away from me and motioned to a chair in his old-fashioned living room that was lined with deep red wallpaper, stained brown wainscoting, and plush rugs.
I felt like I needed to get farther from the man, because I was worried I was going to do something absolutely insane if I didn’t. I rushed over to the chair and sat, breathing out a brief sigh of relief once I was seated.
He moved to the other side of the room, clearly making an effort to keep his distance as he planted his hands on the back of a couch across from me.
“The less you know, the safer you will be.”
I suppressed the vivid, erotic images that were already playing like a flipbook in my mind. Sweaty, exposed skin. Moving bodies. Lips pressed together.
The fantasy version of this guy had the most impeccably firm buns I’d ever laid mental eyes on, too. My mouth was practically watering.
I blinked, then shook my head. “What did you do to me?”
“I saved your life.”
“And made me violently horny in the process?”
His smile was strained. “It will pass.”
“I need to know more than that.”
Lucian sighed. “When a human drinks the blood of… one of my kind, a bond is formed. It’s the first step of a—” he cut himself off, clearly struggling with how much he wanted to conceal from me. “The first step of a process,” he finished, choosing his words carefully. “All we need to do is control our impulses and the temptation will pass.”
I stared blankly. “I feel like you’re talking in code. Can you please just tell me in plain English?”
Lucian’s nostrils flared again, and he still hadn’t stopped looking at me like he was on the verge of tossing the couch and rushing toward me to devour me. The scary part was that I wanted him to.
“Put simply, we must not have intercourse. You would become like me if we did. I must also not feed on your blood. And there are a few other more ritualistic things we should avoid that we don’t need to concern ourselves with.”
A surprised laugh slipped out of me. “I’m sorry, but have you considered that maybe you’re just crazy? Obviously, you’re really attractive. Maybe you’ve built up this fantasy world where women can’t resist you because you’re… what, a vampire? Maybe you’re just really hot and really tragically confused.”
There was that smile again. It was disarming, like there was a more playful side to his personality he was keeping on a leash for now. It wasn’t a crazy person’s smile, I thought. Then again, Ted Bundy was dashingly handsome, too. It didn’t make him any less of a horrible person.