She felt before she heard his rumble of deep laughter, barely escaping his mouth like it stuck to his chest cavity. She felt the vibration of it against the middle of her back.
And then he stepped around her again facing her.
"What somethin' would I do to you?"
She didn't answer him as she stared widely up at him. He was goading her.
"Say it," he demanded again. "Call me what I am. If it helps, I'll start." He bent his head low, his dark eyes capturing hers in a hold she couldn't rip away from. He was the kind of wildhandsome that felt dangerous to simply look at. "What are you afraid I'll do to you, little witch?"
She blinked. "I...I'm not-"
"You are. Now what am I?"
The moon seemed to wrestle her way further into the forest where man and woman stood locked in a stand-off. Creatures paused their nighttime routines to watch as she stood there in awe, in shock, in fear.
In excitement.
"A vampire. You're a vampire," she said. She'd meant it to come out boldly, but the words made a narrow escape.
As the whisper touched his ears she watched in wonder as his eyes closed slowly, his mouth parted just the slightest, full and honest under his neat mustache, and his face took on a look of relief. He was relieved to hear her call him this.
And she was undeniably in awe.
She lifted her chin. "And an asshole, brute who must have been a mosquito in your previous life."
When he opened his eyes, her accusation lay between them dangerously, the sound of crickets their clock until he laughed. The sound made her step back; it was beautiful and dangerous.
"Fierceness," he whispered shaking his head as he looked over her face like she was the most fascinating creature. "And you're afraid I'll, what, drink from you? No need to fear that."
"Why?"
A smile, an almost smile, brought up the very corners of his mouth at her reticence.
And then he dipped low, his face burying nearly against the skin of her neck. Nearly. But he didn't touch, keeping his dark promise. She sucked in a great breath, holding the humid air in her lungs as her ears flooded with the rush of bloody adrenaline. She felt his breath there on that tender skin, hot and like a new promise.
A part of her wanted to push him away and run.
A very secret part of her wanted to drag him against her there, tangle her fingers into his thick hair, and hold him against her neck.
She needed to keep that part of her as secret as possible.
He breathed her in. She could hear it, the way he dragged in her essence with a slow and deep pull. She counted to seven before he let it out in a dark gust of breath that touched her neck in a baptism.
She almost let out a sound of surprise, of something worse; ecstasy.
What was wrong with her?
And then he stepped back. Then another step. This time the crunch of leaves and sticks made themselves known under his weight.
"Because I will not touch you. You have my word." The way his words came out, it felt like the deepest promise ever made to her and she believed him.
She swallowed a lump of relief and disappointment in equal measures. "Thank you," she got out.
"Not until you want me to. And then bets are off, little witch."
Her eyebrows shot up at his words.
"Go home. I'll make sure you're safe. But go home."
