Blood Like Poison For the Love of a Vampire - By M. Leighton Page 0,23

I was literally unfolding my legs, preparing to get Dad or get a gun or get something, when a familiar pale face materialized in front of the window.

"You scared me half to death," I scolded, my fingers still fisted over my runaway heart.

"Sorry," Bo said casually, coming over to lean up against the side of the house right next to my window.

"What are you doing here?" My tone was much more reasonable once my initial fear had given way to the pleasure of Bo's presence.

"I'm part of the neighborhood watch and I thought I saw some suspicious activity around your yard," he claimed.

"Do what?" I moved to stand against the window as well, choosing the side opposite Bo so I could face him. Through the window, I could smell him and I wanted to take a deep breath and hold that scent inside.

Bo's face was serious for another few seconds before it melted into a heart stopping smile.

"Are you really that gullible?"

I felt a little dazed by that smile and it took me a minute to recover enough to answer.

"Oh. Yeah, pretty much," I admitted with a self-deprecating smirk.

"That should be fun," he teased, his smile fading into a lopsided grin.

"Taking advantage of my infirmities and/or weaknesses is strictly off limits," I warned lightly.

"Really," he said, leaning in to my side of the window. "What other weaknesses do you have?"

At that moment, I could only think of one and it was less than a half a foot from me, standing on the other side of a brick wall.

"Too many to name," I finally managed, shrugging offhandedly.

"Mmm," he said, and then he straightened. "Hey, can I see your phone?"

I'm sure I frowned a little at the odd request, but I agreed, seeing no reason not to let him have it.

I walked back into my room to grab my phone off the dresser. When I turned around, I barely managed to smother a gasp when I ran right into Bo's chest. I don't know how he got through the window so quickly or so quietly, but there he was, standing in my room, big as life.

He was looking down at me with those fathomless eyes and I found it suddenly hard to breathe. All the skin that my short shorts and tiny tank top left exposed felt ultra sensitive, like my pores were opening up to him somehow, craving his closeness - flower petals spread wide to receive the wet kisses of the rain.

I swallowed when Bo reached toward me, but he only took the phone from my fingers. He fiddled with it for a few seconds, punching in numbers and making selections.

The bright screen illuminated his face and I was content to watch him. I didn't care what he did to my phone as long as he didn't stop biting his lip in concentration. I was sure I'd never seen anything sexier.

When he handed me my phone, I took it, albeit reluctantly. I could still feel the cool imprint of his fingers on the cover.

"Now, you have me on speed dial. Call me any time," he said, reaching up to push a stray hair from my face where it tangled in my eyelashes. "Day or night," he finished softly.

I was totally prepared for him to kiss me, wanted it more than anything, wanted him more than anything, but a dark spot on his white t-shirt collar caught my eye.

"You've got blood on your shirt," I blurted.

It was obvious by his expression that my question not only took him off guard, but that it ruined the moment. I could've kicked myself for my impulsiveness.

Had I not been so aggravated with myself, the shocked look on his face might've been comical. It was gone in a flash, though, quickly replaced by a frown.

"Where?"

"Right there," I said, indicating the spot with my fingertip.

Bo tugged his shirt down until he could see the spot to which I was referring. His frown eased and he shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, that. Cut myself shaving. Must've been worse than I thought."

When he turned away from me and walked back to the window, I knew the moment wouldn't be recovered tonight. I followed him over and stood behind him while he crawled through.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said from outside, just before he turned to leave.

I felt bereft for some reason. I wanted to ask him to