Page 46 of Cryptic Dreams
So, I slide off the stool and tiptoe toward the door. I grab the knob and press my ear against the wood, listening intently for any signs of life, and when I still hear nothing, I open it a crack.
Then I find myself flinging it open and flying down the hall when I hear a loud thud and what might be glass shattering, followed by, “Christ! Bloody hell!”
I run as fast as I can, which is admittedly not very fast for a vampire, but still manage to clear the never ending staircase rather quickly before I skid to a halt in the doorway of the kitchen and come face to face with Wraith’s bare ass cheeks.
Oh my.
Wow.
Oh my wow.
Wraith has spectacular ass cheeks.
Just, wow.
“Ya bloody fucking wanker,” he grunts and crouches down. “Bloody fuckity nutsack sandwich on rye, that’s what you are.”
My brows raise as I bite back a smile.
So creative, my mate.
Well, maybe my mate. I mean, Wraithismy mate, I just don’t know if he’s actuallymine. I do, but, shit. Whatever. Wraith is very creative and I appreciate it regardless of where we stand.
He stretches to his full height, the relatively short smoking jacket thankfully covering his butt—just barely. Wraith drops a broken teacup in the sink with a huff before he grips the counter and continues scolding the fine china.
“Had to go and jump from my hands, did you? You know what that means, right mate? I’ve got an uneven set and will have to pitch the entire lot into the bin now. Such a bloody fucking waste of dinnerware,” he says as he points into the sink. “And now I’ve not only the need to figure out how to work this robotic nightmare.” Wraith motions toward a brand new coffee and espresso machine. “But I’ve got to figure out how to run the blasted sweeper as well. You daft little twat waffle, fuckstick!”
I snort into the back of my hand, totally unable to hide my laughter anymore and when Wraith spins toward me to reveal wet coffee grounds smeared all over the front of his jacket and bits of his chest peeking through, I dissolve into a fit of giggles.
He scowls at me. “This is funny to you?”
“Yes.” I snort again. “I’m sorry, I really am, but...nutsack sandwich on rye?”
“Laugh it up then.” Wraith’s scowl turns more playful. “Kick ‘em when they’re down, yeah? I’ll have you know this contraption of death to all good things was purchased on your behalf.” He motions wide to the coffee machine and my laughter stops immediately.
Something that makes the almost-smile fall right off of his gorgeous face.
I swallow hard as I walk into the room and get closer to the coffee maker and Wraith. “You… you ordered this for me?”
“I did.” Wraith straightens his spine and narrows his eyes. “Should I not do such things?”
I roll my lips between my teeth and force myself to maintain eye contact. “I don’t mind,” I whisper as I stop in front of him. “Thank you.”
“Think nothing of it.”
Wow.
If I thought Wraith’s butt cheeks were great, they’ve got nothing on his smile. Even just the little one he’s giving me right now. It’s small, but it’s there and genuine, and it transforms his entire face from sexy to panty-melting with a serious touch of real warmth. And nothing has ever felt more like flying so close to the sun in my entire life.
“I’ve not the slightest clue how to make it go.”
I frown, my gaze still locked on his. “Go?”
His smile grows by a fraction. “The contraption of death.”
“Oh.” I tear my eyes away from his and see the first of what no doubt will be many problems. “Probably helps if you don’t stab it with flatheads,” I giggle as I yank the screwdriver out of the side of the machine then hand it to Wraith. “I doubt that was in the instructions.”
“Bah. Instructions are unnecessary.”
