Owen chuckles as he closes the door behind him. “Surprised much?”
“I wasn’t expecting your house to be so . . . stylish.”
“Yeah, I didn’t pick any of this. It came with the house.” He shrugs as he moves towards the sofa, his blonde hair half-covering his green eyes.
I follow him, taking in my surroundings as my heart beats way too fast for my liking. The silence is loud, only interrupted by our steps and a slight squeak of the sofa when Owen sits. I feel uneasy, as if there’s something off that I can’t quite figure out. When I sit beside him, he places a hand on my knee and slowly caresses his way up my thigh. His touch makes me shiver, and not precisely in a good way.
This is nothing like my encounters with Caleb. There’s no connection between me and the man whose eyes are slowly running up and down my body. I don’t feel anything, really. Sure, he’s attractive, but do I actually desire him?
“Killien . . .” The way he says my name makes me bristle. “Are you okay? You look a bit tense.”
I avoid meeting his gaze. He stares at me hungrily, and it makes me uncomfortable for some reason. I should be okay with it. I came here for this, didn’t I? To keep Damien off my mind, and to feed. It’s been eight days since I drank from Jacob. Although vampire blood kept me sated for the whole week, I’m starting to feel the hunger creep up. My mouth waters as I remember the taste of Jacob’s blood.
“Let’s start with something else,” he says, leaning just a bit closer to me. “Tell me a bit about you. What do you do for a living?”
Finally, my eyes meet his. He offers me a kind smile, but it doesn’t seem fully honest.
“Um—” I clear my voice and straighten my back, settling deeper against the soft, velvety pillows. “Nothing, really. I stopped working when Ledger turned us, like six months ago. We’ve been living off what our victims leave behind, selling their belongings and whatnot, just like he taught us.”
Owen chuckles. “That’s great news.”
“What about you?” I ask, a bit thrown off by his last words, but more curious to get something out of him. It seems like no one knows much about Owen. Maybe I can get him to talk.
“Ah, my job is very boring. I pick up and deliver things. It pays well, though.” He shrugs.
There’s an awkward silence after his vague answer. I want to ask more, but worry that I’ll be too pushy and upset him or something. For a moment, I think about texting Damien. Even if it’s just to feel him close, because he can soothe me like nothing else. But I force myself not to. I need to feed, so I have to push through the discomfort.
In all honesty, I’ve never been precisely shy, even if I’m not a talker and lean more towards being introverted than extroverted. The confidence I had when I met Caleb last week is nowhere to be found today. I feel Owen’s gaze examining my face, and I have to force myself not to turn away.
“Are you hungry, Killien?” he asks, and his voice is almost a purr.
“Honestly, yes,” I chuckle, already feeling the pull of his blood. I’m curious to taste him, despite the strange uneasy feeling in my gut.
Before I can do anything, Owen’s lips are on mine. The kiss is slow and soft at first. Shy, even. I let him, though I don’t know why I’m kissing him back. It’s nothing like what I do with Caleb;I can’t easily picture Damien in this case. Somehow, it feels like a completely different experience. And I’m not sure I like it.
Owen deepens the kiss, his fingers tickling the side of my neck. My skin lights up under the warmth of his hands, sending a shiver down my spine. His thumb massages over my vein, as if it’s calling for my blood. And it responds to him, just like it did when Caleb nibbled on my neck. When Owen pulls back, I’m almost breathless and hungry.
“You’re such a good kisser . . .” he whispers. “And hot as hell too. I can’t wait to fuck you.”
What? Fuck me?
Oh, no . . .
My mind goes blank for a second, almost like someone switched off my brain. My blood runs cold as I stare into his eyes. That’s something I never really thought about. I enjoy being with other men, but it’s all so new. I can’t imagine bottoming, especially not with him. Something must happen to my face, because Owen’s expression changes too. He raises an eyebrow at me and leans forward. His weight shifts on the sofa, making it creak just a little bit.
“You’ve never . . .?” he asks. I shake my head, startled. “Oh, okay. I wasn’t expecting that.”
I blink a few times, unable to speak even when he smiles and lets out a soft chuckle. In all honesty, I don’t even know if I want sex with him. I need his blood, and kissing him isn’thorrible, but I’m not feeling the need to take it further.
“So, was this your first time kissing another man?” He places his hand on top of mine, as if he’s trying to reassure me.
“Yeah,” I lie, hoping that it will spare me from whatever he was planning for tonight.
“Alright, that’s okay. We’ll take it slow, see what you like.”
I almost sigh in relief, which seems to amuse him since he laughs again. His hand reaches for the back of my neck and pullsme in for another kiss. I slide further into the pillows as Owen’s weight rests partially on top of me.
This time, the kiss is a bit more aggressive, but the sweet taste of his mouth has me almost groaning. The thirst for his blood creates a pulsing sensation in my veins. Somehow very different to what I felt when I drank from Jacob, which included a whole lot of sexual desire. This definitely doesn’t.
