“Cal,” I growled, my other hand running up the smooth plain of his back. He pulled his fangs free, lifting his head to look at me and a line of blood spilled from the corner of his lips. I had the serious urge to lick it away and the look in his eyes at that moment said he might not mind that at all. But he was my friend, an Heir. I may have had more than the odd fantasy about him, but I never acted on it. Not since that one time where we’d shared a girl and accidentally kissed each other (or that was the way Caleb told it). We’d been absolutely fucking wasted. But we weren’t drunk right now.
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