by Melissa Hosack
You won't want to miss this one!
“My grandmother was not a witch!” Bradley cried with a stamp of her foot.
“I bet she was, just like I’m betting you are. Witchcraft is also the only explanation as to why I haven’t
killed you yet. You’ve put some kind of charm on me to make me desire you.”
“Oh, I have not!” Bradley griped, resuming her trek through the downpour. “Besides, witches don’t exist.”
“Just like vampires don’t exist?” he came back almost smugly with a wave at his chest, as if he were the
living proof of a contradiction.
“You are not a vampire,” she informed him, sounding exasperated.
He sent her a sideways glance. “You have no idea how tempting it is to tear your throat out with my fangs
to prove my point.”
She narrowed her eyes, but suggested, “Why don’t you turn into a bat? That oughtta prove it.”
“We don’t turn into bats,” he came back in disgust.
“So, you don’t turn into bats and you eat burgers. Sounds like the real deal to me,” she taunted
sarcastically.
“I am the real deal,” Beau growled in agitation.
“Prove it,” she challenged. “Show me some fang.”
With an aggravated sigh, he stopped, pulling her to a halt next to him. “Fine.” He bared his teeth and his
face screwed up in concentration. “I don’t really do this unless I’m feeding,” he said in obvious annoyance
at the inconvenience of her request.
Bradley braced her hands on his forearms and stood on tiptoes so she could peer into his mouth. “I don’t
see anything.”
Confusion flitted across his features. “I don’t understand…” He concentrated with all his might, but
couldn’t seem to get his fangs to spring forward.
“They shy?” Bradley teased. Slapping him on the chest, she stepped back. “See? No proof. Not a
vampire.” With a little sigh, she started walking again. “Why do all the really sexy ones have to be crazy?”
Beau followed her, rubbing a finger along his teeth and gums, perplexed. “I just don’t get it. This never…”
He trailed off with a grin. “You said I was sexy.”
“I also said you were crazy,” she pointed out as they reached her building. Glancing over her shoulder at
the door, she said, “Well, this is me.”
When she spun back around, Beau stood with his hands in his pockets, his thumbs sticking out in a very
rugged and manly way. She had to mentally count to ten to keep herself from ogling him. “Goodnight,”
she said through clenched teeth.
“I suppose I’ll be seeing you soon,” he said. “We’ve still got unfinished business to discuss.”
“Not really. I’m not giving your vampire wannabe butt my necklace, so that pretty much deters me from
having any further interaction with you.”
“Oh, there will be plenty more interaction.”
Bradley couldn’t help but notice that the low, husky sound of his voice sent tingles along her skin,
affecting her like no one ever had before.
She studied the way little water droplets glistened on the ends of his shoulder length, jet-black hair. Her
eyes skimmed over his broad chest, hungrily taking in the way his shirt clung to every muscle.
She was so busy admiring his physique that she didn’t notice he was going to kiss her until it was too
late. Before she could even think about stopping him, Beau’s lips were on hers.
They caressed across hers, soft and tentative as his arm snaked around her waist. He pulled her gently
toward him until her body melded against his.
As if they had a mind of their own, Bradley’s arms wrapped around his waist, clutching the back of his
shirt in her fists.
His mouth became more persistent against hers, nudging her lips apart.
Pressing her body to his, she mumbled into his mouth, “This means nothing.”
He nibbled at her bottom lip, drawing a gasp from her.
“This is just…” She tightened her fists, nails raking briefly against his skin. “This is just that freebie. You
know that, right?”
Beau hissed at the sensation of her nails, his free hand rising to bury itself in her hair, gently gripping it
at the scalp. “Then I’ll use it wisely,” he growled into her mouth.
“I still think,” she said between kisses, “that you are arrogant, delusional, and should really see a
psychologist about this vampire-” She broke off with a surprised yip as he pulled her more forcefully
against his chest.
“Shut up,” he grumbled, pausing only briefly before crushing his lips to hers again.
Bradley relaxed against him, making a happy mewing noise when he caressed her cheek with the back of
his hand. She was just starting to fully enjoy herself when a sharp pain invaded her lower lip. An instant
later, she tasted blood.
Beau moaned, drawing her lip into his mouth, sucking at her bleeding flesh.
She let out a squeak of protest and pushed her hands against his chest, shoving roughly as she tore her
mouth from his.
His eyes were dilated, the irises darker than usual. He had a set of sharp fangs protruding from his
mouth with her blood clinging to them, and his breathing was coming in shallow gasps.
She could see blood lust in his eyes almost as plain as his desire. She backed up a step in horror as his
tongue flicked over his bloody teeth.
“Bradley,” he practically begged as she took another step back, “I tried to warn you.”
When he reached a hand out to her, she gave a cry of terror. “Stay away from me!” she shrieked before
turning and racing into the building. As she shut the door behind her, she prayed that she was shutting
Beauregard Channing out of her life indefinitely.
***
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