Read Online Hunger Embraced (The Hunger Series) by Jennifer James - Free Book Online
Authors: Jennifer James
Tags: paranormal erotic romance, menage
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my thumb and forefinger, trying to ignore the voice in my head. I’d heard it off and on over the years, but recently it’d been growing stronger.
Since the morning Daniel showed up outside my apartment.
I was still naked, and the last thing I remembered was falling asleep in the bathtub. With a very tall, tanned, and muscular Daniel, who was blond everywhere. A strange tattoo decorated his left pectoral, and it hummed against my cheek when I rested against it. I remembered now the first time I had seen him and the flash I’d gotten from his mind of running my tongue over it. I wanted to stroke it with my fingers, see if it had really vibrated, and explore the curving lines in every way I could imagine.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood. My feet sank into the thick pile of the rug, and I scrunched my toes. A dark wooden armoire stood on the far wall, the clean simple lines reminding me of Shaker furniture. I opened the drawers, being nosy, but they were empty. A closet dominated the opposite wall, and I opened both doors, not figuring on finding anything, but hoping for a stash of extra clothing Daniel might have stored. The cool hardwood floors matched the hallway, and my feet were getting cold. Nothing again. Damn.
I turned around and wandered to one of the two windows. A nighttime sky dotted with stars and an unimpeded view of Lake Erie stretching to the horizon met my gaze. There was nothing of a personal nature anywhere in the room. No photos, none of the clutter that spills out of pockets and onto dresser tops. This must be a guest room. I didn’t know if I was depressed or relieved to find myself in the guest category.
What did I care what he thought? He probably didn’t think about me farther than the fact we kept running into each other and sex stuff kept happening. Although he’d admitted he’d been following me at lunchtime. Why? And he’d accused me of having “conquests” the other day. I sure as hell didn’t think of it that way. A conquest implied I desired them, sought them out. Hell to the no.
Not only did I not have conquests, there was no way I was going to accept some guy who called himself my king. As if. Maybe Mr. Darkly Handsome Spanky Pants could be scared off with T.T.B. intervention. After all, Daniel had not been happy to see him there.
“Yes…Daniel…”
The impression of a sharp-toothed smile in the dark flitted through my head. I shivered, wondering if I was finally going nuts.
Questions swirled through my head. I bet Daniel had answers. I returned to the bed and tossed the comforter back all the way to the bottom of the mattress, intent on making a toga out of the top sheet. I had it half pulled out when I noticed the small pile of clothing on the corner of the bed.
Oh, look at that. Daniel had left me a present of a pair of sweats and a huge T-shirt.
I tightened the drawstring sweat pants around my waist and glanced down at the shorn leggings. I traced the snipped fabric with my finger.
He had shortened them for me.
No, no, no. Do not start giving him brownie points. He was the enemy! He withheld information and couldn’t be trusted. So what if he knew how to use scissors.
The shirt was a different story. The lower hem hung down almost to my knees. I looked like a child playing dress up, but it smelled wonderful. His detergent tried to erase his scent with the fresh clean bite of citrus, but ocean spray and a crisp breeze after a storm clung to the fabric.
I refused to think about why I liked the shirt so much or the memories his aroma aroused. From now on, he was T.T.B. and nothing else. It didn’t matter if he’d tried to co-opt the name. I was taking it back and using it the way it was meant to be used—as a distancing device. He was just another vamp looking for food at the Miranda drive-thru.
I jerked the door open too hard and glanced up and down the hall. I could leave now, call him later, and grill him over the phone. I didn’t have to
Since the morning Daniel showed up outside my apartment.
I was still naked, and the last thing I remembered was falling asleep in the bathtub. With a very tall, tanned, and muscular Daniel, who was blond everywhere. A strange tattoo decorated his left pectoral, and it hummed against my cheek when I rested against it. I remembered now the first time I had seen him and the flash I’d gotten from his mind of running my tongue over it. I wanted to stroke it with my fingers, see if it had really vibrated, and explore the curving lines in every way I could imagine.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood. My feet sank into the thick pile of the rug, and I scrunched my toes. A dark wooden armoire stood on the far wall, the clean simple lines reminding me of Shaker furniture. I opened the drawers, being nosy, but they were empty. A closet dominated the opposite wall, and I opened both doors, not figuring on finding anything, but hoping for a stash of extra clothing Daniel might have stored. The cool hardwood floors matched the hallway, and my feet were getting cold. Nothing again. Damn.
I turned around and wandered to one of the two windows. A nighttime sky dotted with stars and an unimpeded view of Lake Erie stretching to the horizon met my gaze. There was nothing of a personal nature anywhere in the room. No photos, none of the clutter that spills out of pockets and onto dresser tops. This must be a guest room. I didn’t know if I was depressed or relieved to find myself in the guest category.
What did I care what he thought? He probably didn’t think about me farther than the fact we kept running into each other and sex stuff kept happening. Although he’d admitted he’d been following me at lunchtime. Why? And he’d accused me of having “conquests” the other day. I sure as hell didn’t think of it that way. A conquest implied I desired them, sought them out. Hell to the no.
Not only did I not have conquests, there was no way I was going to accept some guy who called himself my king. As if. Maybe Mr. Darkly Handsome Spanky Pants could be scared off with T.T.B. intervention. After all, Daniel had not been happy to see him there.
“Yes…Daniel…”
The impression of a sharp-toothed smile in the dark flitted through my head. I shivered, wondering if I was finally going nuts.
Questions swirled through my head. I bet Daniel had answers. I returned to the bed and tossed the comforter back all the way to the bottom of the mattress, intent on making a toga out of the top sheet. I had it half pulled out when I noticed the small pile of clothing on the corner of the bed.
Oh, look at that. Daniel had left me a present of a pair of sweats and a huge T-shirt.
I tightened the drawstring sweat pants around my waist and glanced down at the shorn leggings. I traced the snipped fabric with my finger.
He had shortened them for me.
No, no, no. Do not start giving him brownie points. He was the enemy! He withheld information and couldn’t be trusted. So what if he knew how to use scissors.
The shirt was a different story. The lower hem hung down almost to my knees. I looked like a child playing dress up, but it smelled wonderful. His detergent tried to erase his scent with the fresh clean bite of citrus, but ocean spray and a crisp breeze after a storm clung to the fabric.
I refused to think about why I liked the shirt so much or the memories his aroma aroused. From now on, he was T.T.B. and nothing else. It didn’t matter if he’d tried to co-opt the name. I was taking it back and using it the way it was meant to be used—as a distancing device. He was just another vamp looking for food at the Miranda drive-thru.
I jerked the door open too hard and glanced up and down the hall. I could leave now, call him later, and grill him over the phone. I didn’t have to
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