My eyes closed. I could feel her breath against my skin, the heat from her body against mine though air stood between us, and the tension making the air tingle against me. I weighed her obvious desire against her slow movements and the fact that she had stopped when I asked. I had to be certain. She said she could do this, but I didn’t want to make another stupid mistake. Could she do it? Could I? My eyes opened. “Are you sure?” I asked, searching her expression.

She leaned closer, her lips parting to say something, but then her brow furrowed and she stiffened. Dropping her grip on my shoulder, she spun. The clatter of pixy wings shattered the silence.

“Ivy!” Jenks shrilled, and I almost thought I heard her growl. “No! It’s too soon!”

I took a deep breath, willing myself to stay upright. I had forgotten the soporific effect vampire pheromones had, and my heart pounded as I propped myself up; I leaned against the counter as I took a deep breath to steady myself.

“It’s okay, Jenks,” I said, not looking up from my faintly trembling fingers. “Ivy’s got a handle on this.”

“What about you?” he shouted, darting from her to me. His tiny features were pinched in worry, and I could see a row of faces at the window, watching, until Ivy closed the curtains, sealing us in a soothing blue. “Look at you!” he said, the dust spilling from him turning a pale green. “You can hardly stand up, and she hasn’t even touched you yet.”

Ivy was standing at the sink, arms crossed over her middle and her head bowed. I didn’t want it to end like this. “I can’t stand up because it feels that good!” I shouted at Jenks, and he flew backward in surprise. “I’m fine! So you can take your little pixy ass out of here! She stopped when I asked her to wait. She’s over there right now, not”—I hesitated, feeling a surge of anticipation rise through me—“not ripping my throat open!”

Ivy’s head came up and she gripped herself tighter. Her eyes were absolutely black, and adrenaline made a burning trail from my neck to my middle. Oh, God. This couldn’t be a poor decision if we both wanted it so badly. Right? Please let this be a good decision.

“I slaked my blood lust three hours ago,” she said, her soft voice in contrast with her sharp body language. “I can do this. If it gets to be too much, for either of us, I can stop.”

“So we’re…fine,” I stated. “Get out, Jenks.”