That was another vampire thing, all right: their increased libido.
Gavin dropped the ornaments that he’d been cradling in his arms into the box, and it sounded to Malcolm like at least one may have broken. He put his hands on his hips, looking more comical than angry. Malcolm was finding it very difficult now not to smile.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Gavin said.
“Like what?”
“I’m not in the mood.” Gavin wasn’t the least bit affected by the electricity in the air—or he was trying hard to seem oblivious.
Malcolm took a little step toward him, and Gavin moved away. Malcolm raised his eyebrows, his smirk growing. “Come on, Gavin, I’m sorry. I didn’t know this holiday meant so much to you. I’m an idiot, all right?”
After a long moment, Gavin’s arms relaxed and fell to his sides. His face remained tight, though. He frowned, blinked, and said, “I’m still not in the mood.”
Still smirking, Malcolm reached for him.
“Malcolm.” Gavin’s tone was one of warning.
And Malcolm took a step back now, smirk disappearing. He sighed. He may have been a monster, but when the boyfriend said no, it meant no.
“Don’t take all this stuff down, Gav.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Is there anything I can say to—?”
“No,” Gavin said firmly. “Now just stay out of my way until I’m finished.”
And so he did.
Malcolm didn’t know what to say—and there clearly wasn’t anything he could say—so he sat down on the couch, where he’d been when Gavin had entered, and he watched as Gavin took down all the decorations. For the most part, the human ignored him.
When it was all done, when the fake tree had been successfully torn apart and crammed back into its box, Gavin straightened and finally spared Malcolm a glance. He gestured to the grocery bag of blood packs. “You should get that into the fridge,” he said simply.
“I know.”
Gavin stared for a long moment, seeming to contemplate something. “I’m going to bed,” he said suddenly.
“But it’s so early—”
“Good night.”
The door to Gavin’s bedroom shut loudly—not quite a slam, though Malcolm deserved no less—and Malcolm stared at the dark hall. He could have followed, he knew. He could have gone into Gavin’s room and refused to leave until the human listened to his apology, but what good would that have done? What kind of apology would it have been?
And besides, it would have only succeeded in making Gavin more angry.
So instead, Malcolm crept through the kitchen and down the basement stairs. He threw the bag of blood into the spare fridge that was only used to store his sustenance, and he made his way to the little hideaway under the stairs that was blocked off by a curtain.
Contrary to popular belief about vampires, they didn’t need coffins to sleep—just a good old bed where no daylight could reach them. He drew the curtain shut after he’d stepped into the cramped space, and he maneuvered easily through the dark until he reached the twin-sized bed, which he settled onto. It was still early, but he would have felt bad staying upstairs around Gavin—he would have felt wrong.
He lay there until the sun came up, wishing he was with Gavin instead. He couldn’t believe he’d been such an asshole to him.
Even when he’d been human, he’d never cared much for Christmas. Of course, he’d never thought to ask if Gavin enjoyed it. He hadn’t realized just how much fun Gavin found it to be until he’d heard him talking about it earlier. Unfortunately, Malcolm had been so blinded by his own selfishness that he hadn’t paid any attention.
He’d find a way to make it up to him.
Chapter Two
It wasn’t just humans who looked like angels when they slept—vampires did too.
Gavin stood just inside the confined space that had become Malcolm’s sleeping place. He held the curtain open, and yellow light from the laundry room spilled into the alcove. The sun had gone down just moments earlier, and Malcolm would awaken any moment. As he listened to the dryer work, Gavin took a moment to admire his vampire.
Malcolm’s long form was stretched out on the narrow bed, his hands folded over his stomach as if he were dead, and technically, he was—all that was missing was the bouquet of lilies. His pale skin seemed to shine very, very slightly, and his black hair looked inky in the darkness. His facial features were strong and elegant—a square jaw, straight Greek nose, high and smooth cheekbones that his long lashes rested sootily against. His eyebrows were thick and arching, low over deep-set eyes, and his full lips were in a straight, relaxed line.
He was beautiful.
Gavin had thought that the very first minute he’d seen him at the gym in January. Back then however, Malcolm had been dating one of Gavin’s coworkers, leaving Gavin no choice but to admire him from afar and fantasize. And then one day, Malcolm had come up to him, introduced himself, and boldly asked him out on a date, apparently having just ended his relationship.
They’d been thick as thieves since. They had the same interests, they liked spending time together, and they agreed on most things.
Well, most things except Christmas, apparently.
A part of Gavin knew that he’d overreacted the night before, but he wouldn’t allow himself to feel too guilty. Christmas was important to him—one of the more important times of the year—and if Malcolm had been just a little more perceptive, he might have picked up on this instead of coming upstairs and getting mad right away.
Christmas had been his mother’s favorite holiday, and Gavin liked to think it’d brought them closer. She’d fallen terribly ill a few years earlier, and her passing hadn’t been easy. Gavin felt like Christmas was something he could hold on to, his last connection to her. Her death had made him appreciate and love Christmas all the more than he already had.
Granted, Malcolm didn’t know all this. Gavin hadn’t gotten around to telling him too much about his family. Talking about his mother was hard. He couldn’t even talk about her with his sister, Aria.
Malcolm’s gray eyes suddenly snapped open in that oh-so-vampire way, and he was on his feet in seconds, crouched and ready to attack. He looked about a millisecond away from pouncing, and then his stony face cleared as he realized it was just Gavin.
“Sorry,” Gavin said quickly, and then he fumbled for an explanation as to why he’d been standing over his boyfriend, staring at him as he slept. “I was just… watching. I wanted to check on you….”
“Gavin, you know better than to stand over a sleeping vampire,” Malcolm said, straightening to his full height—it wasn’t that imposing, since Gavin was about as tall himself. Malcolm gave a small sigh and shook his head. “I could have hurt you.”
“You would have realized it was me,” Gavin said. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
Having his own words thrown back in his face didn’t seem to affect Malcolm, and he moved to slide past Gavin, stepping out of his hidey-hole and into the laundry room. Gavin followed, of course—what else was he going to do?
“Anyway, I’d just come down to throw my shirt in the dryer—I wasn’t plotting to kill you or anything, I promise. Just wanted to poke my head in,” Gavin said with a shrug.
“Just a shirt?”
“To get the wrinkles out. For the party.”
“The party?”
Gavin fought the urge to put his hands on his hips—that was something that made Malcolm laugh for some reason—and tried to keep his expression neutral. He didn’t want to let himself get mad at Malcolm again, but damn if his boyfriend didn’t have selective hearing. Sometimes—vampire PMS, remember?—Malcolm didn’t pay attention. This wasn’t the first time he hadn’t listened to something Gavin had said, and Gavin didn’t know why he was surprised.
“Aria’s Christmas Eve party,” he said. “Don’t worry, you’re not coming.”
And Malcolm had the nerve to look offended. “Why not?”
“Because you don’t want to. I’m not taking a broody vampire to a holiday party where he’ll just sit in the broodiest corner he can find and brood all night.”
“You take mockery to new heights, my love,” Malcolm said.
“Look, just do whatever it is you vampires do best—you know, drink some blood, go out and stalk some young virgins, I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m going to my sister’s party.”
“Young virgins? Sounds like a good gig.” Malcolm folded his arms over his chest, the muscles in them tensing impressively with the motion, seeming to strain against the tight sleeves of his fitted T-shirt.
Gavin deadpanned him. That was a trick he’d picked up from Malcolm, actually. Then he turned and went to the dryer, stopping it prematurely to pull out his shirt—a dark red, short-sleeved button-up. Most of the wrinkles were gone, and that was good enough for him. It would have to be good enough for his sister.
He pulled off his T-shirt, tossing it into the hamper beside the washer, and shrugged into the button-up. He could feel Malcolm’s intense gaze burning into him, and he tried to ignore it. He couldn’t deny that it was flattering, however, and he almost wanted to make a show of putting the shirt on, just to tease Malcolm.
He glanced at him as he began buttoning the shirt from the bottom up—to make sure he didn’t miss any—and he was surprised by the tender look in Malcolm’s eyes. Sure, Malcolm’s gaze was sparking with lust, but he looked at Gavin with the utmost affection.
Gavin’s fingers fumbled awkwardly with his buttons suddenly.
A wickedness flashed in the stormy depths of Malcolm’s eyes, and he raked his gaze boldly down Gavin’s body now. When that insufferably arrogant smirk came to his face, Gavin wanted to groan in exasperation. Why did the maddening expression have to be so attractive on Malcolm?
“Let me come with you,” Malcolm said, and his tone was lower. He was using his I’m-irresistible-and-you-can’t-say-no voice, but Gavin had taught himself very quickly just how to refuse, no matter how alluring his boyfriend was.
“You don’t like Christmas. I get it, okay? I’m not going to force you to do this, and I’m not even mad at you anymore—you don’t have to make it up to me.” And it was surprisingly true. After taking out all of his frustration on his poor Christmas decorations the night before, Gavin was feeling very cool and relaxed about the whole thing. He smiled slightly, trying to prove it to his boyfriend. “When I get home, we’ll… do something non-Christmas-y, all right?”
“Gavin….”
“Malcolm.”
Amusement danced in Malcolm’s eyes. Slowly, his gaze slid downward again, and he appraised Gavin with a look that spoke volumes. Gavin hated that look, but more than that, he hated the overwhelming need he suddenly felt to be close to the vampire. The effect that Malcolm had on him was strong and vibrant, and no matter how strong Gavin thought his resolve to be, he didn’t know how much longer he could fake disinterest.
Malcolm reached for him, and Gavin hesitated. He breathed shallowly through his mouth, feeling hot under the collar all of a sudden, and his mind worked furiously. He didn’t have to be at Aria’s at any specific time; if Malcolm wanted to fool around down here, there was no trouble in it.
Or should he have fought Malcolm off? Should he have pretended to be indifferent, to still be cool towards Malcolm?
Before he could come up with something, Malcolm’s hands were on his chest. Gavin opened his mouth to speak, but all Malcolm was interested in was doing up the few top buttons that Gavin had fumbled with and had consequently forgotten about.
Gavin released all of his breath in a whoosh, not caring that Malcolm could hear him.
“I love when you wear this shirt,” the vampire said.
“I’ll be sure never to wear it again, then. Just to torture you.”
Now grinning his shark’s grin, Malcolm grabbed Gavin’s hips and drew their bodies flush up against one another. There were times when being around Malcolm made Gavin feel a strange, dizzying sensation, and this was one of those times. His mind spun as Malcolm’s mouth descended upon his.
Malcolm’s lips were warm—not as warm as Gavin’s were; they never got like that—which meant that he’d fed just before he’d died for the day earlier. That was always good, that a vampire got warmer and more… well, alive after feeding. You don’t want to kiss a vampire who hasn’t fed for a while; it’s like kissing cold, hard stone. Gavin knew from experience, a particular experience he didn’t want to repeat.
Malcolm slanted his mouth against Gavin’s, thrusting his tongue past Gavin’s lips. The kiss was possessive and greedy, and Gavin would never admit how much he liked it. Another thing about being with a vampire was that they were fast and rough most of the time—you sort of had to teach them how to go easy on you sometimes.
Malcolm’s tongue explored Gavin’s mouth like it was the first time, and Gavin met it with his own. He couldn’t help it—he was smiling into the kiss. All thoughts of what’d happened the night before flew out of his mind, even the fact that he’d driven to Annapolis from Catonsville. In the snow. For over an hour.
So maybe he wouldn’t completely forget that bit.
Caving in, Gavin pulled Malcolm’s bottom lip between his teeth and sucked, earning a small groan from the vampire. He slid his arms around Malcolm, and Malcolm’s grasp tightened on his waist. Gavin could feel something pressing against his thigh—he didn’t have to even wonder what it was. At times, it was a wonder to Gavin that vampires didn’t just walk around with permanent hard-ons, what with how easy it was for them to get one and all.
Not that he wouldn’t admit that his own cock was starting to respond as well.
“Down, boy,” Gavin said, breaking the kiss and patting Malcolm’s back. He pulled out of the embrace. “I have to go.”
“Let me come,” Malcolm said. At the double meaning of his own words, he winked.
Gavin laughed. “After that one? No way. That was tack-y. Aren’t you undead supposed to be all charming and eloquent? Masters of seduction?”
“All right, all right—I get it. That was weak,” Malcolm said, hands up in defeat. “Let me join you, Gavin. I want to go to the party.”
“With that thing?” Gavin gestured to the bulge in Malcolm’s pants. “Definitely not. And besides, like I said, I’m not forcing you to do this. Let’s just do our own thing until I get back. I won’t stay long.”
“Promise?”
“If it makes you feel better.”
Malcolm followed Gavin upstairs after he’d grabbed himself a blood pack from the fridge. As he warmed it up in the microwave, Gavin went to his room to get his shoes on—technically, it was their bedroom, but Malcolm obviously couldn’t sleep in it.
There were special windows that could be installed in homes, windows that could keep out the sunlight during the day, and both Gavin and Malcolm were interested in them. They just hadn’t gotten around to fitting the house with them yet. Plus, Gavin knew how expensive these windows ran, and he didn’t want Malcolm paying for it by himself. Malcolm had quite a bit of money saved up—why were vampires always rich?—and he was always paying for everything. It made Gavin feel rather awkward.
So he kept putting the windows off, while secretly, he was saving up so that he could at least pay for half the price it would cost.
When he left the bedroom, he found Malcolm in the living room, sitting on the couch with his blood, which, fortunately, he had put into a coffee mug, so as not to freak Gavin out. In his other hand, the one not holding his breakfast, Malcolm held one of Gavin’s knickknacks—a small ceramic nutcracker. He was studying it like it held all the answers of the universe.
Gavin took it from him gently, turning to drop it into his Christmas box. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Waiting for you to leave so I can stalk some virgins,” Malcolm said smoothly.
“Girls only. I don’t like the thought of you going after other men.”
The shar
k’s grin appeared again, but Malcolm didn’t respond as he took a big drink of his blood. Gavin pulled on his peacoat, buttoning it as he made his way into the kitchen. Earlier that day, he’d put together a Tupperware pitcher of eggnog that he’d planned on taking to Aria’s.
Malcolm turned to see what he was doing. “They’re not going to believe that’s homemade.”
“Sure they will.”
So maybe Gavin had poured cheap store-bought eggnog into a pitcher and was going to claim he’d made it special for the party. He had given it his own personal touch. He’d given it a little oomph by throwing in a splash of spiced rum and some bourbon the guy at the liquor store had claimed was good quality. That had to count for something.
“Well, I guess we are talking about your brother-in-law. Not too bright, that one,” Malcolm said as Gavin came back through the living room. Malcolm and Aria’s husband, Jason, didn’t exactly get along.
“Why can’t you two just be friendly with one another?”
“Because he’s a narrow-minded bigot,” Malcolm said simply, shrugging. “Not only am I vampire, but I’m a gay vampire, at that. He doesn’t have to say anything for me to know how much he hates me.”
“He might be a little… wary of vampires, but he’s not a homophobe,” Gavin said. “And besides, maybe he’s uptight around you because the first time you met him, you bared your fangs and pretended to lunge at him.”
Malcolm grinned like it was a fond memory, and he shrugged again. “I was just having fun. He obviously doesn’t know how to take a joke.”
Gavin shook his head as he went to the front door, bending to pick up the gift bag that held Aria and Jason’s presents. Malcolm stood, setting his mug o’ blood on the coffee table, and he turned to look at Gavin. For just a split second, he looked almost surprised. No, that wasn’t it.
He looked like a lightbulb had just gone off over his head.
“What?” Gavin asked tentatively. Was it a good thing that Malcolm had just gotten an idea?
The Vampire Grinch Page 2