Free The Vampire Book of the Month Club by Rusty Fischer Page A

alone, my locker open, long after everyone’s gone.
    But I have to look back in case—well, in case she’s turned into some kind of bat or winged monster, fangs drooling mere inches from my neck.
    I whip around, just as a hand touches my shoulder—
    â€œWyatt!” I shout, my heart literally leaping into my throat.
    â€œYeah, jeez, who’d you expect?”
    â€œOh my God.” I gasp, clinging to his chest as if it’s a life raft and I’m leaping off the Titanic . “I can’t believe it’s really you. I thought . . . I thought . . . What are you doing here? I thought you had a photo shoot and were too busy to meet me.”
    He shrugs. “They canceled on me before I could even turn the key in the ignition,” he says, sporting a new tracksuit—this one all black. “I remembered your text and figured I’d still find you hanging out by your locker. What gives?”
    Just then I hear footsteps: different footsteps.
    Not squeaking but clacking.
    Purposeful.
    I’d know that witchy walk anywhere. Finally, Bianca is on her way.
    I panic. There’s no reason for me to be here, alone, after school.
    But I’m not alone; Wyatt’s here.
    Still, there’s no reason for me to be here, alone with Wyatt, this long after the final bell unless . . . unless . . .
    â€œDo you trust me?” I ask in a whisper, heart still pounding. I peer up into his deep-blue eyes, already imagining.
    He smiles in reply. “What do you think, Nora?”
    I cut a glance at Bianca, and she is bearing down on us, just rolling out of D-wing and on her way to her locker, her head down, smiling as she writes some wickedly sexy text (probably) to Reece (most likely).
    Before she can look up and spot us, I lean in on my tippy toes, grab Wyatt’s neck, and pull his warm lips to mine—
    Now I know why they say it’s like fireworks, this whole kissing thing.
    But no, that’s not entirely true; kissing Wyatt for the first time is like biting into a firecracker and holding on even though you know it’s going to explode and quite possibly rip your whole world open.
    It’s instant sensory overload, my heart and mind short-circuiting as a jolt of pure desire connects with parts unknown.
    Stay focused, Nora, I think desperately, even as my fingers probe the back of his head to feel the stubble that was once his dark, flowing locks.
    Somehow, I do. Stay focused, that is.
    Even above the blood pumping through my ears, I can hear Bianca’s heels clattering on the marble floor of the commons area.
    Amid the swirl of passion that floods from my toes to my thighs to my heart to my throat, I can sense the vampire’s presence, lurking just in the distance.
    And then, sweet bliss; Wyatt’s lips are soft and gentle. Just like I’ve imagined every night since I’ve met him. They are moist too and taste vaguely of some kind of coconut lip balm. (Coconut, really? Could he be wearing it for me? Did he put it on in the car when he read my text?)
    I can feel a little resistance, at first, as he gasps, quite sincerely, “Nora,” his voice hoarse and gentle. I hold him close, press against him, press hard, and the resistance crumbles like a tissue in a hurricane. We meld together. Even as tall and tough as he is, our bodies gently merge until we share the same tiny space in front of my locker.
    His large, warm hands wrap expertly around the small of my back, as if he’s touched it a thousand times before, pulling me up and closer to him with ease.
    Meanwhile a deep, contented sigh escapes his lips, and just as I’m threatening to go over the cliff, give in to the passion and the heat pounding from his body, my eyes flicker open, I pivot just so, and see Bianca rolling her eyes at us as she quickly dials in the combination to her locker and opens it.
    I have only seconds now, but I need to wait until she shuts her locker door to get the full