His Lover's Fangs Read Online Free

his waist.
    He blinked several times when he saw her
there, then frowned. “Huh… Hi? Can I help you?”
    “I hope so,” Olivia said with a grin.
    She couldn’t help following a bead of water
with her eyes as it glided over the tendons of his neck and right
down the center of his chest. He crossed his arms, and her gaze
snapped back to his face.
    “You drop your shoulder,” she said, returning
to the business at hand. “Every time you’re about to hit the
crossbow trigger, you lock your breath, and when you do your right
shoulder drops half an inch. That’s why your aim sucks.”
    His frown deepened. “I do? Huh. No one ever
noticed before. Are you sure?”
    Olivia nodded. “I watched you. Twenty-five
arrows, you dropped your shoulder twenty-two times. And the other
three times—”
    His eyes widened excitedly as he understood.
“Were the three arrows I put in the center of the target. Wow. That
explains a lot. Thanks.”
    “No problem. I can watch again tomorrow if
you want, tell you when you’re doing it right so you get a feel for
it.”
    The frown returned, now cautious. “Thanks,”
he said again. “But why are you doing this?”
    “I told you I needed help with my essays,”
she said, grinning. “And you said you needed help with your aim. I
helped. Your turn.”
    The look he gave her was pure fish out of
water, complete with a mouth opening and closing again without any
sound coming out.
    Patience had never been Olivia’s strong suit,
or at least it wasn’t when there was no good reason for her to be
denied what she wanted at the moment she wanted it. She looked down
pointedly at the books and notebooks she was carrying, then back up
at him. Eyebrows raised high, she asked, completely aware of how
this would sound to the people passing in the hallway behind her
and not caring one bit, “Are we doing this outside or are you going
to invite me in?”
     
    * * * *
     
    Pulling herself out of her memories, Olivia
forced a grin to her lips. “So. Are we doing this outside or are
you going to invite me in?”
    Logan blinked very slowly, and she could tell
that he remembered, too. Of course he did. Back then, he had been
flustered when he had answered. Now, he seemed angry.
    “If you think I’m going to sleep with
you—”
    “Who said anything about sleeping?” she cut
in, her grin taking a predatory turn. “I was thinking a bit of a
fight.” Raising a hand to her face, she tapped her lips
thoughtfully with a single finger. “Although we could precede that
with a nice fuck. What do you say, lover? A last fuck for old
time’s sake?”
    Logan’s cheeks darkened in anger. He had
always hated that word. Sometimes, though, there was no other way
to describe what they did. Olivia’s body remembered climaxes
wrenched out of her, frantic thrusting by moonlight, claw marks and
light bruises that no vamp had inflicted on them. They had often
been tender, but when the mood had struck them both, flesh could
take over minds for a few minutes, or even a few hours.
    Without a word, he picked up the laundry
basket and turned away. As she watched him walk out of sight,
bristling with anger and pain, Olivia could only wonder what it
would have been like to sleep with him one last time. She doubted
she’d get to know before it all ended.
    “Doing my laundry?” she called out, knowing
he would still hear her from the laundry room. “You were always so
thoughtful, lover.”
    He didn’t reply, and soon she could hear the
low buzzing of the washing machine starting its cycle. It was a few
more minutes before Logan returned to the bedroom, long enough for
Olivia to wonder what he would do with her clothes after washing
them—what he would do with all her things.
    “Did you call the Salvation Army, yet?” she
asked as he reappeared. “When are they going to come to pick up my
stuff?”
    Logan started to shake his head, only to stop
himself short, but it was too late. If he wasn’t going to donate
her