Continuation of Bad Taste (Part I).
Sorry for the inconvenience of having to come to this book, but the chapter limit has been reached on the other! Chapters start from 201 onwards (after a brief introduction).
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Angela had decided to be absolutely cruel to me by going off on vacation with her husband and kid, and leaving me to wonder if they'd be safe or not. I didn't like knowing she was across LA, let alone miles away with no protection.
Over the past five years, she'd taken to a little bit of training to protect herself from humans, but she'd never be able to fight against a vampire if she ran into trouble. She didn't have the hunter gene, after all. My restlessness worrying about the subject was rivalled only by my comfort knowing the rest of my family was safe right in front of me.
Years of knowing each other drew us away from the red room into the rest of the house. We more often hung out in the living room or lounging around the kitchen, and that meant seating positions had changed slightly. Colby and I now had a loveseat to ourselves, whilst everyone else had to deal with the couches. None of the other couples seemed to mind continuing their tradition of sitting on their partners' laps, so I happily obliged to having a little extra space.
However, it didn't stop me and Colby from mimicking their inability to stay far from one another. Our comfort showing affection meant more often than not, Colby would lie across the loveseat and I'd squeeze into the space between him and the back of the small couch, resting my head on his chest. That was how we found ourselves now, my hand on his tattoo beneath his button-up shirt, my leg between both of his as I drifted in and out of paying attention to those around us.
Colby had one arm wrapped around my waist, his hand brushing through my hair—which I always wore down now how ever it chose to sit after a shower—and his other hand held my wrist on his chest. His thumb would occasionally brush the back of my hand softly, never losing any kind of contact between us.
I breathed in his scent as often as I could to feel all the love he offered me simply by lying there so openly in front of everyone.
Whenever I'd drift too close to his neck, though, he'd stiffen and pull me closer. I liked to tease him every now and then, and this time when I did it, brushing my lips over the mark permanently scarring his skin, he pulled his hand from my wrist to drag my thigh higher, almost across his hips. I looked up at him in amusement, only for my small smirk to slip when he leaned across to kiss me. My hand slid up from his chest to the side of his face so he wouldn't move away. Although, I had no doubt there's nothing he'd rather do right now.
All worries about Angela and the rest of the problems life sometimes threw our way slipped right by.
I relished the way he rubbed up and down my thigh slowly, keeping pace with our gentle kiss. I couldn't get close enough to him, couldn't show him any better how I felt.
When he drifted up to my hip and squeezed, intending to coerce me up onto his lap, I playfully bit his lip and pulled back instead. He pouted at me, his brows drawn together, and I couldn't help but kiss him again to wipe it right off of his face. This time, he didn't coerce me, he just dragged me over him.
