He grunted, pretty much telling me he was only going to take a small amount no matter what I said, and I tilted my head to the side and back, giving him free access. His hand slid to the nape of my neck, pulling up so my head fell back even farther. He struck. Long, sharp fangs sliced into my neck, but I didn’t flinch. He did it so quickly it didn’t hurt at all, especially when, a second later, he groaned, and all I felt were those angel’s feathers massaging my body.
I moaned in contentment, his power not so overriding this time but more controlled, since he wasn’t fearful of hurting me as he had been before. I was able to lift my hands to his spiky hair, fisting it, holding his mouth to my neck, never having felt anything like the caresses of his mind hold, it utterly beautiful. As the sensations faded, reality returning, I felt his thumb brushing back and forth over my nape, and his warm tongue slowly sliding across my wound, licking away any wayward drops. Blinking my eyes open, I turned my head, and our cheeks brushed as he pulled his head back. I still had my hands in his hair, and he smiled down at me, our noses touching.
His cheeks were slightly flushed from his drinking, and he asked softly, “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
I chuckled.
Tap, tap.
We froze.
Someone was standing outside the window. Had just knocked on it. Our positions were very, well, not the best with him lying on top of me between my legs. Hell, I had even wrapped a leg around his waist at some point in the drinking and he was gripping one of my hips to keep from tumbling off the bench seat. Just…not good.
Slowly, we peered up.
Well, fuck. That was the only word that described this situation.
“Fuck,” Ezra muttered. He agreed, too.
A hand made a rolling motion outside the window.
Ezra hesitated, but released my hip, his other hand too buried under my neck and in my hair. He hit a button on the door, and the window rolled down smoothly.
We both stared out the opened window, undoubtedly looking guilty, even though we weren’t. If anyone else had caught us, it probably wouldn’t have been a big deal, but it wasn’t just anyone. It was possibly the worst two individuals who stared down at us with quiet eyes.
Into the strained hush, King Kincaid murmured, “So,” a motion to the King at his side, “King Venclaire and I were just finishing up with Mrs. Jonas when we walked outside and saw Lily’s car in the parking lot idling, but no one appeared to be in it.” His voice was very quiet. “I thought I would turn it off for her, but you can imagine our surprise when we found it,” a short pause, “occupied.”
King Venclaire said just as quietly, “Ezra, what exactly is going on in the school parking lot? Because, right now, it doesn’t appear favorable.”
Ezra cleared his throat, starting to lift off me. Seriously, luck was not on our side at the moment because, as he progressively rose, it showed that the loose buttons on my shirt — my favorite, old shirt — had popped off, baring the swells of my breasts and my pink bra, adorned with winking camels, in full view. Ezra and I didn’t notice until the Kings sucked in a harsh breath, staring down at my chest.
We followed their line of sight, and both of us cursed.
Ezra tried a few times to pull my top together, but it was one of those tight cotton shirts and, with no buttons, my breasts kept “bursting” back into view. He cursed again, and peered up to the Kings, saying, “It’s not what it looks like. I swear.”
“The shirt’s old,” I explained quickly, scrambling with it and holding it closed as we fumbled clumsily over one another to sit properly, which probably made us look more guilty. “The buttons were on their last leg and must have broken off under the strain of Ezra’s weight.”
Little by little, his voice still quiet, King Kincaid asked, “And what was Ezra doing on top of you in the first place? You weren’t exactly pushing him away.”
Ezra ran a hand over his face, covertly glancing at me.
I nodded. Just tell them. It wasn’t that big a deal.
He cleared his throat and, with innocent, spring green eyes, gazed at the Kings. “I was drinking. We were lying on the backseat for privacy.”
Both stared, blinking at us until King Venclaire asked, “You were drinking off Lily?”
Again, it wasn’t that big a deal, so I informed them, “You’ve both seen him drink off Pearl before. Just substitute me for her.” I shrugged. No biggie, right?
King Venclaire blinked once more, real slow-like, then cleared his throat, blue eyes on Ezra, and asked, “You were still thirsty after drinking off a Shifter and a Vampire,” a glance at his watch, “less than three hours ago?”
King Kincaid’s nostrils flared. I knew he was scenting for deception, so I stated bluntly before Ezra lied, “He was silvered earlier.” Make your own assumptions from that. It was supposed to take a toll on the body. Therefore, it might make him thirsty. I hoped that angle worked for our sakes, so we didn’t have to say he just enjoyed my flavor and wanted a nip.
“Hmm.” King Venclaire’s eyes hooded as they danced back and forth between us.
“Well,” King Kincaid adjusted his suit jacket, “that is true.”