Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 116408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Well, no. There was nothing simple about it.
Rafe was playing some game still. Trying to get into Philippe’s head. Trying to catch him off guard.
And despite knowing Rafe’s intent, Philippe found himself tightening his fingers around Rafe’s. The vampire was so different from the others he had encountered. He was intrigued by his confidence, his playfulness. There was a joie de vivre to him that he hadn’t touched on in so damn long. Certainly not since he’d become a vampire.
Philippe clung to his companion, telling himself to revel in the pleasure he’d found in being around Rafe. It would all end too quickly.
Despite their long lives, Philippe had found that happiness in their world was as fleeting as it had been while a human.
On the opposite side of the dance floor, Rafe pulled him down a short, dimly lit hallway. They passed a barback carrying a case of alcohol to the bar, and then they were alone. The music still thumped loudly, but the air had become less stifling without the heavy press of bodies.
Rafe stunned Philippe by pushing him against the wall. He stepped closer, leaving less than an inch of electrified air separating them. Still holding his left hand, Rafe braced his right forearm next to Philippe’s head and bent his own face slowly down. Philippe tensed, the hair on his arms standing on end. So close to his neck. Rafe had to be able to smell his blood rushing just below the surface. Maybe even hear the steady thump thump over the music.
Philippe knew he was stronger than Rafe. He wasn’t trapped. He could shove the other vampire away, pin him, break him, if Rafe attacked. If he dared to pierce his throat with those beautiful white fangs. But that was the fun part. The anticipation. Waiting to see what Rafe would do next. How would he push? Was he simply trying to see what liberties Philippe would permit?
And that was the tricky question. What would he permit?
Already it felt like too much.
His dick was rock hard in his jeans, pressing painfully against the zipper and begging for Rafe to take him in hand. Relieve some of the unrelenting ache.
“There we go,” Rafe purred in his ear. He was being so damn careful. Only their hands touched. Rafe was keeping just enough space between them that Philippe could see him in his peripheral vision. “Away from prying eyes and overprotective nannies.”
“Looking to get me alone?”
Rafe’s smile grew, revealing just the tiniest hint of those perfect fangs. As a man, Rafe was undeniably sexy. But as a vampire, he was pure, unadulterated sex. “Sweet golden angel, I’m sure everyone here would very much like to get you alone.”
“You keep calling me that. Angel. Do you like the idea of sullying the divine?”
Rafe slowly inched his head closer, brushing his nose against a lock of Philippe’s hair. When he spoke, his hot breath danced along the shell of his ear, and Philippe had to ball his free hand into a fist at his side to keep from reaching for Rafe.
“I won’t deny that it would be a very fun bonus, but your likeness to the holy isn’t your only alluring characteristic. Or even your most tempting.”
Philippe hummed softly. “I’m tempted to ask which of my characteristics you find most alluring—”
“A very long conversation, I fear.”
“But we should talk business first. Piper.”
“Can we not spare a few hours for more pleasurable things?”
Philippe’s cock throbbed with Rafe’s whispered question, also begging him to reconsider. A few hours wouldn’t hurt, right? But it had already been too many days, and Piper needed them.
“We can’t,” Philippe said, careful to make his voice firm.
Rafe pulled away so that they were facing each other. Too much of the joy had bled from his handsome features, and there was a cold seriousness to him. “Pity. I’m sure that once business is completed, you’ll find yourself no longer in the mood for pleasurable things.”
Philippe nearly laughed in Rafe’s face at that pronouncement. Instead he stunned Rafe with a quick move of his own. Tightening his fingers around Rafe, he placed his free hand against Rafe’s shoulder. In a flash, he spun them so that Rafe’s back was pressed to the wall where Philippe had been only a moment earlier. The only difference was that their clutched hands were pinned behind Rafe while Philippe’s other hand was wrapped around Rafe’s neck.
Rafe held completely still beneath Philippe as if his muscles had turned to warm marble. Where Rafe had only teased moments ago, Philippe pressed his face into Rafe’s neck, feeling the frantic beating of his pulse against his lips. The most beautiful scents wafted around him—desire, need, relief, and hunger. But there was also a sharp tang of fear that nearly soured everything for Philippe. He never wanted Rafe to fear him.