Page 112 of Bleed

“It’s for lab samples,” he clarifies.

My excitement promptly fizzles. “Oh,” I huff, dragging a hand through my hair as I glance toward the staircase. “Of-fucking-course. He’s been holed up in that stupid lab for the last two nights.”

Which is weird.

Not the lab part– Elliott spending hours on end up there is perfectly normal. What’s weird is that he hasn’t asked me to join him or taken me up on it when I’ve offered. Apparently, I’ve been temporarily relieved of my research assistant duties without so much as a performance review– probably because I ruined one of his precious samples.

He still drags me into his playroom each night afterwards, though, so I suppose I can’t complain too much. Priorities.

Albert gestures toward the lounge. “Shall we?”

I pad across the room to him, hooking my arm through his. “Lead the way, pretty boy.”

His mouth flattens, and I grin.

I’d almost forgotten how much fun it is to annoy him.

We head into the lounge together, and I immediately drop down onto the sofa and make myself comfortable while he goes over to the cabinet to retrieve his supplies. He starts laying out everything with practiced efficiency, the whole setup giving me a very specific sense of déjà vu.

I extend my arm toward him, a smirk curling my lips. “Here we are again.”

He pauses, blue eyes slowly lifting to mine. “Don’t even think about it.”

“About what?” I ask innocently.

“You know.”

A smirk tugs at my mouth. “I really don’t.”

“Offering me your blood,” he deadpans.

“Oh, relax,” I say, waving him off. “I’m not making that mistake again.”

His expression remains unamused as he sets to work tying the band around my upper arm.

“Although,” I add thoughtfully, “seeing Elliott go all psycho-possessive was pretty hot…”

“You know, I used to think you were fun until you almost got me killed,” Albert mutters wryly.

“Psh, I am fun,” I fire back, sticking out my tongue.

He rolls his eyes as he swabs the inside of my elbow with an alcohol wipe. “Hold still.”

“Yes, sir,” I purr.

He gives me another withering look, then the needle slides into my skin with a sharp pinch, dark red blood winding through the tubing and into the collection pouch below. Something about seeing it reminds me of Elliott drinking from a glass, which naturally reminds me of his mouth, which naturally reminds me of several other things his mouth has been doing lately…

Albert fills the pouch quickly, clamping the tubing and removing the needle.

“That’s it?” I ask as he presses gauze against the puncture.

He jerks a nod.

“You sure you don’t want to take a little extra?” I tease.

His eyes narrow.

“Not for you, just in case Eli needs a little snack.”