Hunted, The Complete Edition: A Full-length Steamy Vampire Romance (New England Nightwalkers) Read Online Free Page B
straight into the bathroom and take a look at that arm so we can stop the bleeding.”
She flipped on the lights and led him down the narrow hallway and into a fussy powder room that was the size of a supply closet. The walls were covered in wallpaper dotted with tiny pink roses with little green leaves. The sink was a creamy porcelain pedestal, and on the corner rested a bowl of miniature, lavender soap cakes.
It looked more like the bathroom of an eighty-five-year-old granny than that of a vampire hunter.
She pulled away and gestured for him to sit on the closed seat of the toilet.
“Just give me a second to gather some supplies.”
He let his eyes drift shut for a moment as she pawed through the medicine cabinet, thinking it better if he didn’t watch her. Something about the way she moved…
“You should probably take off the sweater so I can clean it really well and see what we’re looking at,” she said, setting some gauze and scissors onto the sink.
He followed her directive without question, pulling his injured arm from its woolen sleeve gingerly, as if it hurt.
Truth of the matter was, it didn’t. Yes, he’d cut himself in the “accident”. And yes, he was bleeding. Quite a bit, too, he noted with a sense of satisfaction. But the pain was almost imperceptible, and he could staunch the bleeding—hell, he could heal the wound entirely—with just a thought.
He wouldn’t, though. Not until his Florence Nightingale had bandaged him up, though. He needed her feeling good and guilty so she would be more open to allowing him to stay for a while and get the information he’d come for.
He swallowed the rush of self-disgust and tossed his sweater onto the floor, leaving him with only a threadbare t-shirt on.
Her soft intake of breath wasn’t lost on him, and he fought back the immediate swelling of his cock. It was natural for her to feel some sort of attraction in under the circumstances. She was human, after all, and he was a large, fit male who happened to have features pleasing to a woman. They’d been in a stressful situation together and the adrenaline was high. It didn’t mean she wanted him , per se. It just meant that she was a healthy female and her body reacted in a natural way.
If only he couldn’t smell the rush of pheromones in the air, a complex and heady brew that sent his cock aching.
For the second time since laying eyes on her, his fangs lengthened as straight-up lust and bloodlust coalesced into a writhing miasma of need and hunger.
He should’ve fed before coming to her.
He’d known it when he’d seen her photo. She would test his self-discipline. But some part of him had felt it would be unfair to subject her to this intrusion without suffering some himself.
And he was suffering in spades.
She cleared her throat and bent before him to examine his arm more closely.
“Good. Looks like the bleeding is already starting to slow.”
Her fingers were warm against his flesh, a much-needed reminder to begin calibrating his own body temperature to match hers. He cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner.
“You’re freezing,” she murmured softly. “How long were you out there working on your truck before you started walking?”
“About half an hour,” he replied, glad she’d provided him with a feasible out so readily.
“Well, I promise to be quick and then we can get you in front of the fire.”
True to her word, she moved fast, but those five minutes felt like a lifetime. Her hands were like tiny brands as she cleaned the blood from his arm, sending excruciatingly erotic pulses through him with every touch. Her scent surrounded him, filling his head, making him want things he had no business wanting.
When it was finally over, she tapped his shoulder lightly and stepped back to admire her handiwork before meeting his eyes.
The room was silent for a long moment before she spoke again, her voice husky as she held his gaze. “You all right to walk?”
Her hand
She flipped on the lights and led him down the narrow hallway and into a fussy powder room that was the size of a supply closet. The walls were covered in wallpaper dotted with tiny pink roses with little green leaves. The sink was a creamy porcelain pedestal, and on the corner rested a bowl of miniature, lavender soap cakes.
It looked more like the bathroom of an eighty-five-year-old granny than that of a vampire hunter.
She pulled away and gestured for him to sit on the closed seat of the toilet.
“Just give me a second to gather some supplies.”
He let his eyes drift shut for a moment as she pawed through the medicine cabinet, thinking it better if he didn’t watch her. Something about the way she moved…
“You should probably take off the sweater so I can clean it really well and see what we’re looking at,” she said, setting some gauze and scissors onto the sink.
He followed her directive without question, pulling his injured arm from its woolen sleeve gingerly, as if it hurt.
Truth of the matter was, it didn’t. Yes, he’d cut himself in the “accident”. And yes, he was bleeding. Quite a bit, too, he noted with a sense of satisfaction. But the pain was almost imperceptible, and he could staunch the bleeding—hell, he could heal the wound entirely—with just a thought.
He wouldn’t, though. Not until his Florence Nightingale had bandaged him up, though. He needed her feeling good and guilty so she would be more open to allowing him to stay for a while and get the information he’d come for.
He swallowed the rush of self-disgust and tossed his sweater onto the floor, leaving him with only a threadbare t-shirt on.
Her soft intake of breath wasn’t lost on him, and he fought back the immediate swelling of his cock. It was natural for her to feel some sort of attraction in under the circumstances. She was human, after all, and he was a large, fit male who happened to have features pleasing to a woman. They’d been in a stressful situation together and the adrenaline was high. It didn’t mean she wanted him , per se. It just meant that she was a healthy female and her body reacted in a natural way.
If only he couldn’t smell the rush of pheromones in the air, a complex and heady brew that sent his cock aching.
For the second time since laying eyes on her, his fangs lengthened as straight-up lust and bloodlust coalesced into a writhing miasma of need and hunger.
He should’ve fed before coming to her.
He’d known it when he’d seen her photo. She would test his self-discipline. But some part of him had felt it would be unfair to subject her to this intrusion without suffering some himself.
And he was suffering in spades.
She cleared her throat and bent before him to examine his arm more closely.
“Good. Looks like the bleeding is already starting to slow.”
Her fingers were warm against his flesh, a much-needed reminder to begin calibrating his own body temperature to match hers. He cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner.
“You’re freezing,” she murmured softly. “How long were you out there working on your truck before you started walking?”
“About half an hour,” he replied, glad she’d provided him with a feasible out so readily.
“Well, I promise to be quick and then we can get you in front of the fire.”
True to her word, she moved fast, but those five minutes felt like a lifetime. Her hands were like tiny brands as she cleaned the blood from his arm, sending excruciatingly erotic pulses through him with every touch. Her scent surrounded him, filling his head, making him want things he had no business wanting.
When it was finally over, she tapped his shoulder lightly and stepped back to admire her handiwork before meeting his eyes.
The room was silent for a long moment before she spoke again, her voice husky as she held his gaze. “You all right to walk?”
Her hand
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