Read Lover Eternal: A Novel of the Black Dagger Brotherhood Online
Authors: J. R. Ward
Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Fiction - Romance, #Vampires, #Suspense, #Man-woman relationships, #Romance: Gothic, #Romance - Fantasy, #Love stories, #Fantasy fiction, #Romance - Suspense, #Electronic books
"Quick. Site's out in the middle of nowhere, and the facility's not going to be hooked to any municipal utilities, so there's no need for a building permit. Putting together the wall supports and throwing some exterior clapboards on a fifteen-hundred-square-foot space won't take long. Installing the storage facilities for the captives shouldn't be a problem. As for the shower, we can divert the nearby stream easily and install a pump to provide running water. Supplies like hardware and tools are all generic and I've kept the board lengths standard size to reduce the amount of cutting. Gas-powered generator on site will provide electricity for the saws and nail guns. It'll also give us light if we want it. We'll keep that long-term."
"I'll start getting what we need from Home Depot and Lowe's this morning. I'll split the supply orders between the two. And we're going to need a small bulldozer, one of those Toro Dingos with the interchangeable bucket and hoe setup. I know where we can rent one."
O leaned back to stretch his arms and idly parted the drapes. U's house was an anonymous split-level deep in soccer-mom territory. This was the part of Caldwell with streets named Elmwood and Spruce Knoll and Pine Notch, where kids rode their bikes on the sidewalks and dinner was on the table at six every night.
All the happy-happy, joy-joy made O's skin crawl. He wanted to torch the houses. Put salt on the lawns. Chop the trees down. Level the place until it couldn't resurface. The impulse went so deep it surprised him. He had no problem with destruction of property, but he was a killer, not a vandal. He couldn't figure out why he gave a shit.
"I want to use your truck," U was saying. "I'm going to rent a trailer to hitch on. Between the two, I'll be able to take delivery on the boards and roofing supplies in batches. No reason for the Home Depot folks to know where we are."
She flipped the omelet over and headed for the refrigerator. Taking out a plastic container of cut fruit, she spooned all there was into a bowl. It didn't look like enough, so she grabbed a banana and sliced it on top.
As she put the knife down, she touched her lips. There had been nothing sexual about the kiss he'd given her behind the couch; it had been all about gratitude. And the mouth-on-mouth action in the park had been deeper, but the distance on his side was the same. The passion had been one-sided. Hers.
Except what about the hostess at TGI Friday's? He'd def-initely sized that woman up, and not because he'd wanted to buy her a dress. So clearly his kind had no problem being with another species. What he had no interest in was being with her.
When the omelet was finished and the toast buttered, she rolled a fork up in a napkin, tucked the twist under her elbow, and took the plate and the bowl into the living room. She quickly shut the door behind her and turned to the couch.
Rhage had taken his shirt off and was leaning back against the wall, inspecting his burns. In the glow of candlelight, she got a serious look at his heavy shoulders, his powerful arms, his chest. His stomach. The skin over all that muscle he was carrying was golden, hairless.
Trying to keep it together, she put what she was carrying on the floor next to him and sat down a few feet over. To stop herself from staring at his body, she glanced at his face. He was looking down at the food, not moving, not speaking.
His eyes flipped up to hers and he shifted so he was facing her. The frontal view was even more spectacular than the profile. His shoulders were broad enough to fill the space between the couch and the wall. And the star-shaped scar over his left pectoral was sexy as hell, like some kind of brand on his skin.
He leaned forward, extending his long arm. His teal eyes were hypnotic, calling her, pulling her forward, opening her mouth. As she put her lips around the food she had cooked for him, he growled in approval. And after she swallowed, he came toward her again, another piece of toast suspended between his fingertips.
"Shouldn't you have something?" she said.
As she chewed, Rhage picked through the bowl of fruit with his fingertip. He finally chose a slice of cantaloupe and held it out to her. She took the piece whole, a little juice escaping down the side of her mouth. She reached up with the back of her hand, but he stopped her, lifting the napkin, brushing it over her skin.
When she couldn't take another bite, he made quick work of what was left, and the moment he was done she picked up the plate and headed to the kitchen. She made him another omelet, filled a bowl full of cereal, and gave him the last of her bananas.
As he ate in that methodical, tidy way of his, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the wall. She was getting tired more and more easily and felt a stab of cold terror because now she knew why. God, she dreaded finding out what the doctors were going to do to her after all the tests were in.
Crouched on all fours like an animal about to spring, he had one arm on either side of her legs, his massive shoulders bunched up from bearing the weight of his torso. This close, he was huge. And showing a lot of skin. And smelling really good, like dark spices.
He tilted his head to the side and put his lips on hers. As she gasped, his tongue penetrated her mouth and stroked her own. When he shifted back to assess her reaction, his eyes glowed with the promise of ecstasy, the kind that would boil her bone marrow.
His lips cut her off and then his tongue took over again, invading, taking, caressing. As heat roared in her body, Mary gave up the fight and savored the mad lust, the pounding in her chest, the aching at her breasts and between her legs.
Mary closed her eyes, imagining them going beyond the kissing to a place where they'd be naked together. She hadn't been with a man since well before her illness. And a lot about her body had changed since then.
"For chrissakes, do you get off on making me feel ashamed of myself? Because I'll tell you, having a man get me all hot and bothered while he might as well be reading a newspaper doesn't feel good on my end. God… you're really sick, you know that?"
She couldn't believe how fast he moved. One minute he was sitting back against the wall, looking at her. The next he had her down on the floor, underneath him. His thigh shoved her legs apart and then his hips drove into her core. What came against her was a thick, hard length.
'Tell me what it means, Mary." When she didn't answer, he sucked her neck until it stung and then took her earlobe between his teeth. Little punishments. "I want you to say it. So I know you're clear on how I feel."
He released her hair and took her lips with a raw edge. He was all over her, inside her mouth, on top of her body, his heat and his male smell and his tremendous erection promising her one hell of a wild, erotic ride.