Read Online Rise of the Fallen by Donya Lynne - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Donya Lynne
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the desert in a
rainstorm. She was so thirsty, craving orange juice, for some reason.
She grabbed the Tropicana Pulp-Free from the fridge and
drank straight from the bottle in heavy gulps, keeping the bottle with her as
she hurried to the bathroom and cranked on the shower. The water and juice made
her feel a little better and steadier on her feet as she quickly stripped and
stepped into the tub.
The hot shower invigorated her back to half-alive, but she
wondered how she would make it through her shift. How could she dance large
tips into her G-string when she felt like a half-dead zombie? What had happened
last night to make her body feel like it had been run over by a bulldozer?
She replayed the events from the parking garage until the
time she got Mr. Mysterious home, and then it felt like something was missing.
She remembered him suddenly lurching toward her as she had started to clean the
wound on his shoulder. The next thing she recalled was the two of them on the
floor, him asking questions that made no sense.
Closing her eyes, Sam leaned back in the spray, rinsing her
hair. Unbidden thoughts of the man called to her memory, just snippets that had
no beginning or end, almost like extra puzzle pieces that didn't fit into the
bigger picture. His mouth on her, his tongue laving her wrist. Why had he done
that? Sam couldn't remember, but she could recall how it had made her feel.
That simple, warm caress of moisture on her skin had touched her to the core.
Even now, the memory of his eyes ranging her seductively as his tongue caressed
her skin made her womb clench. Heat flooded the heart of her.
The man's memory tugged at her like she was a roped calf,
helpless to run away or do anything to free herself.
"Who are you?" she whispered to the lightly
mildewed walls. "Where did you come from?"
No man had excited her this way in a long time, and she
didn't even know his name. Maybe the anonymity was the allure. Maybe the fact
that he was a mysterious, sexy stranger was the fuel for her fantasy: A
tall, dark stranger, his gaze like blue fire. His tongue used on her in a way
that makes her pulse race. He eases up behind her in the shower. The smooth glide
of his arms around her waist makes her yearn to feel his naked body press
against her back. He's tall, easily six inches taller than she is, so he looms
over her like a protective guard, keeping her safe as his large hands range up
her torso to caress her breasts.
Sam could almost feel him against her as her own hands
followed along with his in her fantasy, feeling her taut nipples against her
palms.
Knowing she was already late for work, she didn't care.
Thoughts of him awoke her body, and she suddenly felt almost normal, as if
thinking about him served to heal her of whatever ailment she had suffered to
make her feel beaten and battered upon waking.
As her hands dove between her legs, she opened wider,
dropping her head back as if on his shoulder, wishing – yes – that it was him
touching her instead.
CHAPTER NINE
Micah hauled his ass to AKM. He decided to skip the haircut
Tristan had suggested, going straight for the training center after checking
the dashboard. Thank fuck the place was empty. Micah wasn't in the mood for a
whole lot of hey-buddy-where-have-you-been? Which was exactly what he feared he
would get when someone saw him. Trace, Malek, and Io would know not to bug him,
but Arion didn't seem to get that Micah didn't like to talk, and Micah hadn't
figured out the new guy, Severin, just yet. And Tristan was Tristan. He'd be
all up in Micah's ass for weeks.
He had been going at the weights for a good half-hour and
was in the middle of an eight-rep of bench press when Arion appeared at his
head, spotting him through the last four. Banging them out, Ari helped him
re-rack the bar as Micah sat up.
"Hey, Micah. Are you sure you should be hitting the
weights this hard?"
Micah glanced askance at him, his trademark scowl firmly in
place. He noted how Ari
rainstorm. She was so thirsty, craving orange juice, for some reason.
She grabbed the Tropicana Pulp-Free from the fridge and
drank straight from the bottle in heavy gulps, keeping the bottle with her as
she hurried to the bathroom and cranked on the shower. The water and juice made
her feel a little better and steadier on her feet as she quickly stripped and
stepped into the tub.
The hot shower invigorated her back to half-alive, but she
wondered how she would make it through her shift. How could she dance large
tips into her G-string when she felt like a half-dead zombie? What had happened
last night to make her body feel like it had been run over by a bulldozer?
She replayed the events from the parking garage until the
time she got Mr. Mysterious home, and then it felt like something was missing.
She remembered him suddenly lurching toward her as she had started to clean the
wound on his shoulder. The next thing she recalled was the two of them on the
floor, him asking questions that made no sense.
Closing her eyes, Sam leaned back in the spray, rinsing her
hair. Unbidden thoughts of the man called to her memory, just snippets that had
no beginning or end, almost like extra puzzle pieces that didn't fit into the
bigger picture. His mouth on her, his tongue laving her wrist. Why had he done
that? Sam couldn't remember, but she could recall how it had made her feel.
That simple, warm caress of moisture on her skin had touched her to the core.
Even now, the memory of his eyes ranging her seductively as his tongue caressed
her skin made her womb clench. Heat flooded the heart of her.
The man's memory tugged at her like she was a roped calf,
helpless to run away or do anything to free herself.
"Who are you?" she whispered to the lightly
mildewed walls. "Where did you come from?"
No man had excited her this way in a long time, and she
didn't even know his name. Maybe the anonymity was the allure. Maybe the fact
that he was a mysterious, sexy stranger was the fuel for her fantasy: A
tall, dark stranger, his gaze like blue fire. His tongue used on her in a way
that makes her pulse race. He eases up behind her in the shower. The smooth glide
of his arms around her waist makes her yearn to feel his naked body press
against her back. He's tall, easily six inches taller than she is, so he looms
over her like a protective guard, keeping her safe as his large hands range up
her torso to caress her breasts.
Sam could almost feel him against her as her own hands
followed along with his in her fantasy, feeling her taut nipples against her
palms.
Knowing she was already late for work, she didn't care.
Thoughts of him awoke her body, and she suddenly felt almost normal, as if
thinking about him served to heal her of whatever ailment she had suffered to
make her feel beaten and battered upon waking.
As her hands dove between her legs, she opened wider,
dropping her head back as if on his shoulder, wishing – yes – that it was him
touching her instead.
CHAPTER NINE
Micah hauled his ass to AKM. He decided to skip the haircut
Tristan had suggested, going straight for the training center after checking
the dashboard. Thank fuck the place was empty. Micah wasn't in the mood for a
whole lot of hey-buddy-where-have-you-been? Which was exactly what he feared he
would get when someone saw him. Trace, Malek, and Io would know not to bug him,
but Arion didn't seem to get that Micah didn't like to talk, and Micah hadn't
figured out the new guy, Severin, just yet. And Tristan was Tristan. He'd be
all up in Micah's ass for weeks.
He had been going at the weights for a good half-hour and
was in the middle of an eight-rep of bench press when Arion appeared at his
head, spotting him through the last four. Banging them out, Ari helped him
re-rack the bar as Micah sat up.
"Hey, Micah. Are you sure you should be hitting the
weights this hard?"
Micah glanced askance at him, his trademark scowl firmly in
place. He noted how Ari
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