Kiss of Crimson Samantha Coville (best short books to read .TXT) 📖

Everything Eloise had told me was either so inconsequential it didn’t matter, or something we already knew.

Normally, this would’ve pissed the living crap out of me.

After all, I’d just wasted a half hour of delicately attempting to pump information, which is a lot harder than most people think.

But for some reason, with Eloise’s exuberant, joyful attitude, it wasn’t as much of a chore as I thought.

Mostly, I enjoyed the canter of her voice, the lilt of her syllables.

I’d die before admitting as much, though.

After tossing the valet my keys, I led Eloise to the front of the line.

“Um,” she whispered as I exchanged a wink with Reynholm, the bouncer of the evening, and he undid the velvet rope to let us pass. “Everyone’s giving us rather nasty looks.”

“Screw ’em.” I guided her into the dark, steamy, crowded interior, stuffed to the brim with dancing, jumping bodies.

The DJ was playing something bass-heavy, the thrumming so deep I could practically feel it in my bones, and as I drew Eloise close to me, I had a moment of misgiving.

Was I going too fast?

Would I push her away?

What if she was into the emotionally cold, proper kind of vampire?

Like that Ferguson Redhead or whatever.

She looked around the large circular dance floor, her eyes round as dinner plates.

“I don’t know if I can do this!” she screamed over the music. “What if I mess up?”

“This isn’t like dancing the waltz or following some kind of step.” I took the opportunity to lean forward and whisper directly into her ear.

Women loved that, the breath of a man on that oh-so-sensitive part of their body.

And Eloise was no different.

She quivered against me, her fingers clenching tightly into my shoulders.

“All you gotta do is let the music dictate how to move,” I continued, letting my hot breath run over her ear and exposed neck.

She shook like a rabbit before a ravenous wolf.

If I let her go, at that very instant, would she be able to stand on her own volition?

The fact that I didn’t give a crap… I kind of liked it.

It’d been a long time since I’d wanted to make a woman melt like Eloise.

And damn it all, if I wasn’t having the time of my life.

Eloise started to sway to the deep bass thrum. She was stiff at first, nervous and unsure of herself. But soon enough, she was just as much of a fevered dancer as the others; her head thrown back in wild abandon, hands up in the air, just as in thrall as everyone else to the music, the DJ spun on his turntable.

I let the music guide my movements too, dancing being one of the few ways, aside from fighting, where I felt like I could completely lose myself and not give a damn what anyone else thought.

But all too soon, the lights were thrown on and the DJ waved goodbye from his podium, the King bidding farewell to his subjects, and everyone filtered out of the club.

It didn’t take long for the valet to get my car, and it was almost three in the morning when I drove Eloise back home.

“Well, that was quite an experience,” she said, laughing giddily as she pushed the straggling hair away from her sweat-sheened forehead.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

I don’t know why I cared.

It shouldn’t have mattered.

All I had to do was pretend I was infatuated with Madame Leona’s daughter and make her fall so hard for me that she slipped all of her mother’s secrets into my lap.

But this pretending thing… something that had come so easily for me in the last two centuries…

“You know something?” A small smile tweaked her cherry red lips. “When I was a child, I loved fairy tales. Anything, everything to do with fairy tales. And to be honest, I still do.”

In anyone else, her naivety would’ve been teeth-grindingly annoying.

But on her, it was charming.

Jesus.

I found myself returning her smile with an insipid one of my own. “Fairy tales are nice.”

She laughed ruefully. “And absolutely childish, I know. I used to read stories of these handsome, valiant princes who would take princesses to royal balls and tea parties to woo them. I grew up thinking that was normal. And when I saw that’s how my sister’s husband courted her, of course, that only further cemented the idea in my head that this whole going-out thing was supposed to be elegant and beautiful.” She plucked at her still-damp shoulder straps. “And clean. There’s not a lot of sweating in fairy tales. At least, not for the princesses.”

“So what did you think about tonight?”

She was quiet for a moment, chin tilted to the side in a contemplative manner. “It was certainly no fairy tale. But… I think I’m okay with that. Life’s not a fairy tale, or so I’ve put together the past few days.”

She put a hand on my arm. “Tonight was a lot of fun. Thank you for taking me.”

The warmth from her hand seeped through my leather jacket and onto my skin, making the spot tingle.

“Would you do it again?” I asked, genuinely curious as to how she’d respond.

She pushed a hunk of hair from her eyes and giggled. “Of course, but I’d appreciate a warning next time so I can wear something a little more comfortable. My feet are killing me!”

The rest of the drive was relatively quiet, as the night had seemed to tire Eloise and I had to rouse her from her sleep as I braked in front of her home.

She blinked blearily as I undid her seatbelt for her. “Oh my, I’m so sorry I fell asleep. I guess the nightclub wore me out.”

“You should get a good night’s sleep.” I reached forward to open her car door. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Suddenly, her arms wrapped around my neck, and her lips were on mine.

I didn’t know how to react.

Barely remembered how to breathe.

She tasted warm and like the small cups of liquor they served at the nightclub.

She tasted like life.

Just