But the roses don’t move, even when I flick my fingers at them the way that Atlas Poe did when he came into my apartment with such ease.
At the thought of Atlas, I leave the roses alone and head down the many flights of stairs until I reach Dark Eyes.
I push open the doors and walk in.
The club is empty, but my nose tells me that Solon’s in the cigar lounge, lighting up. I take in a deep breath and walk over to it, peering through the glass door.
There you are, his voice says in my head, and my body is already coming alive from just the sound of him in my skull.
I open the door to the lounge and walk inside, the smoke in the room feeling familiar and calming now. Solon is sitting in a leather armchair, cigar between his svelte fingers, same fingers that brought me to ecstasy more than a few times by now. As usual, he looks impeccable, a dusky blue shirt slightly unbuttoned, black pants, a casual pose.
But his eyes are anything but casual.
They’re deep and dark, following my every move with cold precision.
“Nice dress,” he comments as I walk over to him.
“Thank you. A vampire bought it for me.”
“How do you know it wasn’t a human?”
“The roses,” I say, glancing down at them. “And the fact that I don’t have to wear a bra with it.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “I see.”
I clear my throat and sit down on the small sofa across from him, not quite getting the “come over here and kiss me” vibes from him. I fold my hands in my lap and glance at him warily. “I’m missing time again.”
He puffs on his cigar for a moment, eyes never leaving mine. Then he leans forward. “So am I,” he admits to my surprise. “I slept like the dead.”
“What happened?”
“Well, for you, you’ve been under so much emotional duress, that it’s no surprise you’ve been reluctant to wake up. Easier to stay in your dreams, I suppose.” He gives me a hint of a smile. “As for me, well, you tuckered me out, moonshine.”
“I thought vampires could go all night long?” I ask, not quite teasing.
“We can,” he says through another puff, the smoke falling seductively from his mouth. “And we did…you don’t remember?”
I frown. It’s a blur now of our bodies writhing on his bed, the feeling of his immense power, of total surrender to him, body and soul. There are flashes of him fucking me up against the wall, taking me from behind on the floor, the feel of his cock in my mouth. Good lord, why would my mind block the rest of our night out? My skin flushes from head to toe in response.
“I suppose I should feel insulted that I didn’t leave a lasting impression on you,” he adds ruefully. “But I think it’s to be expected.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, squeezing my thighs together as I adjust myself in the chair.
He inhales sharply, and I have no doubt he can detect what my body is doing.
“Let’s just say that…I can be a bit much.”
I raise my brow. “You? A bit much?” is my dry response.
“Our senses are naturally, or preternaturally, heightened. What happens when they get overloaded? We…short circuit, for lack of a better term. Takes a bit for our minds and bodies to adjust. That’s all.”
I blink down at my hands. So mind-blowing sex can actually blow your mind? Good to know.
I can feel him smiling at me. I glance up and he’s grinning like the cat that’s got the canary. In this case, the canary is me.
But then his smile fades, his jaw set.
“I’m truly sorry about Elle,” he says to me, his voice low and grave. “That never should have happened.”