Objects Of His Obsession (28 page)

Thank Christ for the inch and a half in those heels.
Without them he’d scrape five-ten and change barefoot.

But he … the man must stand over half a head taller than
him. Dark hair brushed straight back, cropped short. The look matched that
vicious scar. Snow white shirt, unbuttoned at that strong throat. No tie. A
stark black suit, immaculately tailored across broad, powerful shoulders and
arms, heavy with muscle.

But it was his strong boned, damaged face...

The olive skin was a little pale as if he were tired,
shadows beneath those jewel bright blue eyes. But those curling, full lips
promised Easton everything.

Rough sex. Wild sex. Getting his clothes dragged off,
probably torn off his pale torso by this man’s teeth and hands. White teeth
grazing at his nape, pinning him as he pushed slicked fingers inside his body.
A cock that was probably massive, to match the man, ready to pound inside him.

And he’d be rough.
And
Easton loved rough–

Christ, his own cock was hardening further, caged inside
the tight jeans he was wearing, that heated flush deepening in his pale throat.

At that erotic, unguarded, heated flush something
shifted behind the blue eyes studying him.

Abruptly Vasiliev held out one lean, olive skinned hand,
as if he’d come to a decision. Easton took that big hand warily. Expecting
anything but–

A massive jolt ran up his arm like electricity.

Jesus.
Vasiliev
was not even human.

Not human–

How the hell had he
not sensed that?

Images thrust brutally into his mind. An invasion. Too
jumbled to pull apart.

Still gripping him, Vasiliev’s free hand stroked up his
other, leather clad arm and then caught Easton under his flushed, chiseled jaw,
tilting it up to face him.

“Tough little Scarlet,” he taunted in that deeply
accented, erotically rough drawl, blue eyes pinning his before moving over his
wide set, darkening hazel eyes, only to drop to his lush mouth. “Vicious little
Scarlet,” he guessed right, in that low, rough voice. “You and I will play some
very, very grown up games before this night is through. Maybe … even you will
learn something, as I am most certain I will.”

His very touch was sending the raw chill of snow,
massively blood splattered, echoes of a woman’s scream, a second, younger,
shriller scream, the flash of blades, images like fistfuls of daggers driven
into his mind.

Jesus Christ, he
wanted to scream for them, whoever they were–

“I’m sure I will,” Easton drawled, with a cool he in no
way felt.

Not even human.

What was he?

Why had he not
been warned? Just what the hell flavor of supernatural creature was he?

And how the fuck
could he hide it so well from him?

~~***~~

I’m working very
hard on getting this one out as fast as possible. And rest assured, it has
plenty of Nix, Roark and vamp action. It wouldn’t be the Hellfire Vampires Bloodline
world without those two, and the wicked workings of Domina Lucrezia…

Cash: Angel, Demon, Rock Star

What happens when a raunchy, bisexual rock star is the
prize in a battle between an angel and a demon? And can it matter?

If that dirty, sweaty rock star is going to become a
leader and influence a generation, yes.

An angel and a demon have been given a challenge by
Management. One or the other must win Cash over. To the good, or to the bad.
And when supernatural beings battle, any filthy trick and subterfuge is
permitted.

Winner take all. With seven deadly sins to play with,
it’s going to get creative. And Management may not approve.

Contains bad behavior, hot m/m action, and a lot of
sweaty leather. Approx. 16,500+ words plus bonus material.