Real Vamps Don’t Drink O-neg. Tawny Taylor

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      “A rare beauty,” a decidedly male voice murmured sometime later. The voice was rich and deep, much lower in pitch than Dao’s.

      “Who’s there?” Sophie blinked open her eyes and sat up. The covers slid down, exposing her upper body to the chilly air. Not sure if the room was pitch or her eyelids were still closed, she blinked several times. No, her eyes were definitely open.

      “Your skin is smooth as silk,” the voice said.

      “Who’s here? And how can you see a blasted thing in here? It’s darker than a bottomless cave.”

      “Pit. You mean bottomless pit,” the voice corrected.

      “Whatever.” She felt the string of garlic lifting from her chest and swatted at the air, trying to find the hand that was pulling it away. “Hey! What’re you doing? Leave that alone. Dammit, why’s it so dark in here? Where’s the lamp?”

      “I can see you just fine. I can see the way your hair falls over your shoulders, how one strand curls around your breast. I can see your pupils, dilated from the dark, and from your fear.”

      “Now I know you’re lying. ’Cause I’m not afraid. Annoyed, yes. Scared, not.” She yanked on the strap of her tank top—it had slid down over her shoulder—and tried to pretend her heart wasn’t thumping so hard against her breastbone that she swore she could hear it. The voice-in-the-dark thing was plain too weird for words. She scooted to the side of the bed so she could flip on a light, but as she dropped her legs over the side, something pushed against her shoulders, knocking her onto her back. “Okay, deep voice guy. Now things are getting creepy. Get the hell out of here.”

      “Such fire. Such passion. I can smell your fear. It’s the most intoxicating aphrodisiac on earth.”

      Something brushed across her breast.

      “Eep!” Totally blind and not sure where the guy was, she did a log roll on the mattress and then tried to jump up. Again, she was knocked down. And these weren’t gentle shoves. They were the kind of blows a woman should never be the victim of. They were the kind of blows that sent Sophie’s head spinning and bile up her throat. She screamed but a large, cold hand clapped over her mouth, muffling the sound almost immediately.

      “There’s no need for that.” Cool lips pressed against her temple as fingers traced up her arm. “I’m not going to hurt you. At least not much.” His chuckle was empty, evil.

      She shuddered and tried to scream again but his hand was still pressed firmly against her mouth. Try as she might, she couldn’t even bite it.

      Those icky fingers skittered up her arm like spiders, then along her collarbone and down toward her breast. She kicked at the blackness, hoping to strike him by dumb luck, but the only effect her efforts produced was the weight of a body on the tops of her thighs. That left only her arms free. She raised them to the hand pressed so firmly against her mouth that she felt like she might suffocate and dug her nails into the cool skin.

      He didn’t react, at least not the way she was hoping. Instead of recoiling, he threw his weight on her arms, ripped the front of her tank top off, and with little effort gagged her. Then he tore her sweats down the front and pulled them off. In the darkness, the rending sound of the cotton blend struck terror in her. Certain she was fighting now for her life, she struggled against him as he spread her legs and tied them to the footboard, then bound her hands together.

      The fabric he used was pulled so tight her skin burned and her hands went instantly numb.

      Her throat stung and she realized she had been screaming, despite the gag. Hot tears ran down her temples and wetted her hair.

      A split second later, the room unexpectedly filled with light, forcing her to blink and squint as she struggled to get a look at her assailant.

      She was shocked. If not for the fact that the jerk had knocked her from here to tomorrow and torn her clothes off her body, she might’ve thought he was a stone fox. Almost the opposite of Ric, this guy was dark. He had long, dark hair, a masculine, square-jawed face with intense eyes. The only things they shared in common were their very large, very strong-looking bodies.

      She tried to talk through the gag, ask him why he was doing this. Surely this guy, looking the way he did, didn’t need to sneak into women’s bedrooms in the middle of the night to get some action.

      He stood at the foot of the bed, thick, muscular arms crossed over a massive chest, and regarded her with a stern expression. “Look what you made me do. I didn’t want it to be this way, love.” Still completely clothed—head to toe in black—he crawled on top of her. His gaze was fierce and wild as it met hers, like a dog that was poised for attack.

      Her nose burned as another round of tears dribbled from her eyes. She shook her head back and СКАЧАТЬ