“How wrong they would be, unfortunately,” she joked and rolled onto her back as Iro climbed out of bed.
Iro didn’t laugh, though. She looked as if she were in pain, and Arwen watched her pick up her clothes from the chair she’d hung them over and slip into them. She got a nice view of Iro’s small, firm breasts again and knew she would need to take care of something before she went to work herself. Iro had gotten her turned on last night, but she’d always been more in the mood in the mornings, and she could feel that she’d soaked her panties and maybe even a little of the shorts she’d slept in.
When Iro finished dressing, she looked at her, but her usual adoring gaze wasn’t there. Arwen supposed she should get used to that. It was likely that if they ended up together, Iro wouldn’t always look at her that way. At some point, they would be in their seventies or something, and Iro wouldn’t keep looking at her with awe in her expression as if boring Arwen had somehow hung the moon. Itdidfeel a little too soon for that look to be gone now, though, especially when they’d only just woken up together for the first time.
“I should go,” Iro said, repeating that for at least the third time.
“Okay. Um… Iro?”
‘Yeah?”
“You haven’t kissed me good morning yet, unless the forehead counts as a good morning kiss,” she noted.
“It doesn’t,” Iro said with a concerning fake smile before she walked back over to the bed, leaned down, and gave her a quick, almost dismissive kiss.
Arwen had both her arms lifted, expecting to wrap them around Iro’s neck and keep her in place for a longer kiss, but Iro stood up again before she could.
“Text me and let me know about tonight?”
Arwen nodded and watched as Iro turned on her heels almost robotically, which wasn’t like her at all. Then, she left the bedroom, and seconds later, Arwen heard the front door open and close. Her phone buzzed on the table right after, so she picked it up and read the message on her screen.
Iro Black: Lock up after me, please.
CHAPTER 18
Iro
Iro climbed into the back seat of the car, needing to get out of the sun and behind the specially tinted windows. She let her head hit the back of the seat and tried not to think about how good Arwen smelled. When Iro had woken up, she’d breathed her in accidentally, and the scent of Arwen’s blood had made her realize just how hungry she really was and how dangerous it was for her to be around Arwen until she ate something. She knew in her soul that she would never want to hurt Arwen, and she’d developed strong self-control over the years, but she had not paid enough attention to her diet and her time outside, and when she’d smelled Arwen’s obvious arousal, things had gone from bad to worse, and she had needed to leave.
Sex and blood were so intertwined in her mind, and likely, in the minds of most vampires, because once one knew that they were going to live forever and that there were no consequences, things got blurry, and it became a lot easier to fuck a stranger while you drained their blood and leave them for dead right after. Unlearning that kind of thing could take centuries, and during their first hundred years together, Iro had let Cassia take the lead, telling her what to do, who to kill, who to turn, who to bite and let live, and she still and always would hate herself for that.
“Why deny yourself the pleasure?” had been Cassia’s usual response whenever Iro had approached her about stopping the killing and asked if they could eat animals instead.
Iro was ashamed to think back to a time when she’d let Cassia tell her what to do in all things. Hell, she hated herself that she’d come running when Cassia had called and that she had given Cassia exactly what she’d wanted. She was only remotely proud of herself for leaving and not giving in further.
She took a deep breath, wanting to inhale the usual scent of the car, which was detailed regularly and still had that newness in its smell that seemed to calm her. Only this time, there was something different. It was something that Iro couldnothandle right now.
“Are you bleeding?” she asked her driver, who had just pulled out into traffic.
“Sorry, Ma’am?”
“Are you bleeding somewhere?”
“Oh, on my finger,” he said and held up his index finger. “It’s dry now, though. Got a cut last night.”
Iro swallowed hard and felt the slow emergence of her fangs. She closed her eyes and thought about anything other than the smell of his blood. In her mind, she pictured Arwen walking into the bar that first night. She thought about how beautiful she had looked. She thought about those eyes she wanted to fall into. Then, she opened her own eyes and felt her fangs retreat.
“See that you get it looked at by someone. It’s infected,” she told the driver.
“It is?” he asked and looked at his finger.
“Eyes on the road. And, yes.” Iro cleared her throat. “I can tell from here.”
“I should’ve just let my wife handle the bandaging up. She’s a nurse, after all.”
“Yes, see that she does. Oh, and take me home, please; not the office.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied.
