The Devil Inside Read Online Free Page B

I hadn’t come up with any answers.
    17 / 226
    Jenna Black, The Devil Inside (2007)
    Morgan Kingsley #1
    Her second drink arrived and she took a sip. A worry line creased her brow. “Maybe it was just slow for some reason. Maybe it hadn’t had time to take over before you hit it.”
    I wished I could believe that. “It was pulling away before I hit it.” I shook my head, fighting an urge to hug myself. I’d never been so unnerved in all my life. Considering what I do for a living, that’s saying a lot. I forced a phony smile. “Look at the two of us—all somber and upset because a demon didn’t take me.”
    Val laughed, but it was a tight sound. “Yeah. Silly, I guess.” She raised her glass and tried to look less worried. “Who cares why it happened?
    Here’s to you still being alive and whole!”
    “I’ll drink to that!” I clinked glasses with her, and we moved on to lighter topics of conversation. But I was still unnerved. After our drink, we went for a fabulous Midwest steak dinner. My appetite wasn’t up to the task, but I tried my best to enjoy it. We went back to the hotel right after dinner, and I called Brian to let him know I was okay.
    I didn’t want to rehash everything again, so before he had a chance to ask me for details about my ordeal, I said, “I’m thinking of a number between one and one hundred. Can you guess what it is?”
    There was a momentary pause on the other end of the line. Either his mind wasn’t as dirty as mine, or he was debating whether to let me distract him. My money was on the latter.
    “Um…ten?” he said, but the mingled laughter and lust in his voice told me he knew exactly what number I had in mind.
    “Strike one.”
    A dramatic sigh. “Let’s see then…How ‘bout thirty-five?”
    I swear, I think I giggled. I am so not a giggler. “Strike two.”
    “Hmm. This is a hard one.”
    “Hey! Isn’t that my line?”
    He ignored my protest. “Would that number be sixty-nine, by any chance?”
    Nice to know we were on the same wavelength. My mouth suddenly watered at the memory of the taste of him. “Slugger, you just hit a home run.”
    “Too bad home plate is in Topeka.”
    18 / 226
    Jenna Black, The Devil Inside (2007)
    Morgan Kingsley #1
    “Yeah,” I agreed. “Guess we’ll just have to improvise.” With the phone cradled against my shoulder, I pulled back the comforter on the bed and fluffed up the pillows before climbing in.
    “I like the sound of that,” Brian said in a low, husky voice. “Are you making yourself comfortable?”
    I snuggled into the pillows. “Yup. And you?”
    “Oh yeah,” he responded.
    I heard the distinctive rasp of a zipper being dragged down. I closed my eyes, the better to picture what lay behind. I rubbed my thighs together, loving the mental image and wishing I could be there in person to see the real thing.
    “You’re whipping it out already?” I asked in mock disapproval while I unzipped my own pants, fingers playing over the strip of lace between my legs. “I thought you had more stamina than that.” I pretended my fingers were Brian’s tongue, and my breath hitched.
    He made a sound halfway between a chuckle and a growl. “Not when I’m imagining your mouth wrapped around my cock. And where, might I ask, is your hand at the moment?”
    I laughed. Caught red-handed, so to speak. Awkwardly, I maneuvered my way out of my pants and underwear while still holding the phone.
    “Where I wish your tongue was,” I answered breathlessly. He groaned, and I think I heard him lick his lips, but that might just have been my imagination.
    I swear, Brian has the most amazing tongue in the history of mankind. Far and away superior to any other specimen I’d sampled. I squirmed, the touch of my own fingers inadequate in comparison. “What are you doing?”
    I panted.
    “What do you think?” he asked in reply, and another distinctive sound came over the phone line. My mind’s eye filled with the vision of his fist