Everything felt right in that moment. For just a simple second, time had stopped and I was deliciously melting into the door behind me. It must've been a minute, two or three when he finally stopped drinking from me. He slowly pulled away from my neck and looked me in my eyes. A trail of red was running from his mouth and dribbling onto his chin when he caught the remaining blood and put his thumb in his mouth.
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"Wow, love. Has your blood always tasted this good?" he asked, waiting for an answer. After a moment of unwavering silence he then said, "No matter. You are going to tell me exactly what you did to me in that bar and you're going to tell me right now. Because frankly, I didn't see anyone else but you and I'd hate to keep your family waiting. So, shall we?"
My heart speed up a little when I heard this strange man tell me that he didn't see anything but me. Maybe he felt our bond as well? I sure hope so because I didn't want to have a one-sided relationship of any kind with this handsome and strange British man.
He starts to brusquely walk out of the Ladies bathroom while simultaneously grasping my right wrist tightly in his hand and dragging me out the door. "Ouch! There's no need to be rough," I exclaim. He suddenly stops walking, turns to look to me and says , "Would you mind repeating what you said, love? I can't hear you over the constant dragging of your stilettos against the marble floor." Not waiting for an answer, he turns back around and continues to half-drag me outside of the main restaurant and into a private garden.
