My Book Boyfriend (87)

My Book Boyfriend is a weekly meme hosted by Missie of The Unread Reader and co-hosted by Lesley of My Keeper Shelf, in which we swoon over boys in books!

Crispin Phillip Arthur Russell III 
(A.K.A. Bones)

Book: Halfway to the Grave by Jeaniene Frost

Series: Night Huntress

He’s a Master vampire, changed back in the year 1790 at the age of twenty-four. His hair is nearly white and his skin is pale and unlined. His brows are distinctly darker than his hair, eyes that are suck a dark brown they could have been black, cheekbones that could have been chiseled from marble. His voice has a distinct English accent and he can move in the blink of an eye. He’s a vampire hit-man, and completely unapologetic about his lifestyle. But underneath his sarcasm and blunt words, he has a caring side that he hides from almost everyone.

Quotes:

It had been a long time since I’d been in a man’s arms. Sure, Bones might have carried me before when I was unconscious, but that didn’t count. Now I was very aware of his hard chest against me, how effortlessly he held me, and how really good he smelled. It wasn’t cologne—he never wore any. It was a clean scent that was uniquely his and it was…intoxicating.

“Is that a stake, Bones, or are you just happy with my new dress?” He gave me a grin that was filled with more innuendo than an hour’s worth of conversation. “In this case, it’s a stake. You could always feel around for something more, see what comes up.”

“Kitten, look at me,” he said flatly. I blinked. “I am.” “No, you’re not.” He slid closer, his eyes all green now. “You stare straight through me as if I’m not even there. You look at me…and you don’t see a man. You see a vampire, and therefore accord me less substance. One of the few exceptions was last weekend. I held you and kissed you, watched your eyes light up with desire, and knew for once you were truly seeing me for what I was. Not just a non-beating heart with a shell around it. I dare you to look at me that way again, now, with no excuse of chemicals to fall back on. I want you.” A slight smile twisted his lips as he made the blunt statement. “I’ve wanted you from the moment we met, and if you think sitting next to me in your bra doesn’t overwhelm me with desire, you’re very wrong. I just don’t force myself where I’m not invited.”

And I just have to throw this one in because it is my favorite:

“She’s my Kitten, and no one else’s.” - One Foot in the Grave