That something else was the fact that he was lying in bed reading and he was blinkety blank eight hundred and twenty-two years old.
“After eight hundred years plus, haven’t you already read every book ever published?” I asked.
His thumb holding his place, he dropped the book to his side.
Then he answered, “No.”
Hmm.
Next question.
“Do vampires ever get so old they have to wear glasses?”
“No,” he repeated.
“Hearing aids?”
“No.”
“Dentures?” I went on stupidly and, maybe, semi-hysterically.
His lips turned up at the ends. “No, Leah.”
“Do they ever have to walk with canes?”
The lip-turn morphed into a sexy smile.
“Come here, sweetheart,” he ordered gently.
Seeing as, if I decided to make a run for it, he could be on me faster than I could blink, I thought it best to do as he ordered.
As I walked toward him, he put his book on the nightstand.
I stopped at the side of the bed.
With vamp speed he twisted, grabbed me by the waist, slid down the bed and I was on top of him over the covers. I arched my back and rested a forearm on his chest, catching my breath at his sudden movements. He gathered all my hair in both of his hands at the back of my neck and his eyes caught mine.
“Nervous?” he murmured.
Nervous? No.
About to have a cardiac arrest? Yes!
“No,” I lied to save face.
He grinned and told me, “I can hear your heart, pet.”
Why was I always forgetting that?
I wrinkled my nose and informed him, “You’re very annoying.”
He put pressure on my neck, enough for my arm to buckle and get trapped between us as he lifted his head and buried it in my neck.
“You’re very adorable,” he replied against my skin.
I was pretty certain my heart was accelerating past the point of cardiac arrest straight to cardiac explosion.
Regardless of this fact, since I was me, I retorted, “That’s part of you being annoying.”