Call Me Crazy (Bellamy Creek #3) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,75

all.

He also went over to my condo and fixed the garbage disposal after my brother JJ broke it somehow. He rescued me when I got a flat tire on the highway, rushing right out to change it himself, instead of making me call for service. And at night, he insisted I still sleep in his bed.

How on earth was I supposed to keep my feelings neutral?

But I couldn’t worry about that now. I told myself those warm, fuzzy feelings would come in handy when it was time to split up because it meant we’d be able to treat each other with kindness and respect. We wouldn’t fight over stupid things. We’d never say cruel things about one another in front of other people—especially our child. And we wouldn’t make our friends choose between us. Everything would be fine.

And tonight, I would be his.

I got out of the tub, dried off and rubbed lavender-scented lotion into my skin. I took my hair down, brushed my teeth, and even put on my diamond earrings—I hoped they would be my good luck charms. Leaving my bedside lamp on, I took off my glasses and slipped naked beneath the sheets, waiting for Enzo to come upstairs.

Five minutes went by.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Outside, the storm got worse, the rain coming down harder and the wind whistling against the glass. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The power flickered.

I was about to throw on a robe and go see what was taking Enzo so long when the power went out completely. I waited a moment for it to come back on, and when it didn’t, I sat up and called out. “Enzo?”

No answer. But I heard someone coming up the stairs.

“Enzo?” I called, my voice a little shivery this time.

Then he appeared in the bedroom doorway, carrying a candle in his hands—and wearing nothing but a black, floor-length cape with the collar turned up. “Enzo is not here,” he said in a dramatic accent, something between Dracula and Ricky Ricardo. The fangs he wore made it difficult to tell.

I burst out laughing. “And you are?”

“I am Edward Mullins, of course.” He set the candle on the dresser.

“You mean Edward Cullen?”

“Yes, sorry. I have been in a deep slumber for so long, I forgot my last name. But when I smelled your blood, I grew very thirsty.”

“You can smell my blood, huh?”

“But of course.”

“That’s—that’s quite an outfit you’ve got on there, Edward.”

“Do you like it?” He brought one side of his cape across the lower part of his face. “I wasn’t sure if capes were still in fashion.” Then he swung it open with a flourish. “Or do you mean this?”

I let my eyes sweep over his naked body. “I like it all.”

“Good.” He threw the covers off me, exposing my bare skin. Then he growled. “I have not seen such beauty in centuries. I must have you or die.”

I squealed as he climbed into bed, growling like an animal, and attempted to bite my neck with the plastic fangs. “Ow! Can you take those things out please?”

“If you insist.” He tossed them to the floor and nipped my throat with his teeth. “Ah, yes. Much better.”

Laughing, I ran my hands over his shoulders. “Do you want to take your cape off too?”

“That depends.” His mouth traveled down to my chest, and he stroked my nipple with his tongue, making it hard before taking it between his teeth. “Will you still want me when I look like a mere mortal?”

I arched beneath his tongue, opening my legs as his hand moved between my thighs. “Enzo, you have never looked like a mere mortal.”

“In that case.” He rose to his knees and ditched the cape, then covered my body with his, his bare skin warm against mine. “Yes, this is much better. God, I’ve missed you.”

Our mouths came together, our tongues seeking, our hands skimming, our breath growing faster and heavier. I’d been a little worried that the sex tonight would feel mechanical or obligatory or awkward, and I’d sort of assumed we’d get right down to the business of trying to conceive—but I’d been wrong. If anything, Enzo was even more patient, more playful, more passionate than he’d ever been. I found myself forgetting that this was simply a means to an end and reveling in every stroke of his tongue and caress of his fingers and sweet, slow undulation of his body over mine. I wanted to stay in this place forever, where I wasn’t worried about failure or success,