When Teagan Lewis moves from rural Montana to the bright lights of London with her maker Thomas, she expects to live as harmoniously as she has for the last one hundred-fifty years.
Teagan didn’t know she had a heart or soul until she met Marc Romano.
However, it quickly becomes clear that Marc is forbidden fruit. All the signs that he isn’t human were there from the beginning, but she chose to ignore them…to her peril.
Can she simply walk away from this mesmirising stranger? Or should she risk her immortality to be with the man she has fallen in love with?
His long dark lashes fluttered over his cheeks as he struggled against the sleep still ghosting his face. His hand trailed through his thick ebony hair before rubbing his eyes. Taking in my appearance elicited a gasp of alarm. He rushed towards me and wrapped his arms around me.
“What the hell happened to you?” He cupped my face firmly between both hands. The warmth burst into my skin, igniting a fire I thought was doused from the trouble he’d caused me.
I narrowed my eyes and attempted to push the thoughts of snuggling him to the back of my mind. I shrugged off his embrace and motioned to the waiting cab with a nod of my head. “Pay him,” I snapped before striding through the open door.
He eyed me curiously as I leaned against the whitewashed wall in the entrance hall beside the door. He’d followed me into the house and walked past me into the room opposite the front door, presumably to grab some cash.
I saw a chestnut brown leather California king bed pressed against the back wall of the room he’d gone into. The bedroom was shrouded in darkness and the white sheets lay crumpled on top of the mattress. I tried to hold my breath and fight against the swirling sensation in my stomach caused by his scent flowing out of the room and flooding my nostrils. It struck me as a little strange that the bedroom lay on the lower floor of the house.
I heard the jingling of loose change before he walked back past me, his eyes burning into me as he stepped back out of the door. I’d kept my eyes on his, not wanting to be distracted by his state of undress. He wore nothing except for a pair of brilliant white boxer briefs. It was difficult not to notice the contrast of the white against his rich golden tanned skin. I tried to blink each footfall away but really all I’d done was taken photographic images for my memory bank, with the camera set to rapid fire for frame by frame capture.
He stepped back in the house, closed the door behind him and pressed his back against it.
“What happened to you, Teagan? Are you in some sort of trouble?” His whispered words led me to believe someone else might be here with him. I honed my hearing to listen for other heartbeats within the property but I couldn’t hear any.
“What are you?” I asked my question again, my voice strangled trying to fight against the emotion that thickened the air between us.
He swivelled so he stood in front of me and ran his thumb over my cheek. I choked on my breath as he snatched me up into his arms, effortlessly lifting me off my feet. One of his arms lay across my shoulder blades and the other in the crook behind my knees. He cradled my head to his warm chest, my thigh rubbed against his abdominal muscles with his motion up the stairs that were to the right of where we’d been standing.
The moonlight shone through a skylight above our heads. Half way up I saw the glass panels surrounding the top of the stairs, giving me a view of the cavernous room. The skylight ran across the ceiling in an oblong strip above the stairway, displaying the night scenery in all of its glory.
Marc turned right at the top and headed towards the u-shaped sofa, upholstered in a grassy green chenille fabric, and gently laid me on it in a half sitting position with my knees hitched up. He planted a tender kiss on my forehead and moved across the open-plan room to the kitchen. My eyes flicked to the large painting on the back wall, a vivid mix of reds, greens and blues apart from a large black beast standing over a lifeless figure.
I turned my view to him and watched his muscles contracting on his lean body as he selected a glass from the glossy white cupboard and filled it with red wine. The kitchen took up the long wall on the other side of the glass panels near the stairs.
The moonlight filled the room casting him with a pearly white light as he crossed the cavernous space back towards me. He hadn’t bothered to turn on a light. He bowed placing the glass into my hand before taking a seat by my filthy feet.
I squirmed a little, remembering I hadn’t showered or changed in a couple of days, but he wrapped his fingers around my ankle to still me. I sipped from the glass before meeting his smouldering gaze.
“What happened, Teagan?” he asked again, his voice quiet but demanding.
“I’m tired, Marc. It’s been a long few days.” It wasn’t a lie, the sun must be due up in the next few hours. My face crumpled and I thought ‘What am I going to do?’ Thomas’ blood may have provided me with super strength, speed and agility but nothing could take away a vampire’s need to sleep before the sun comes up.
He let out a heavy sigh before releasing the grip on my ankle and ran the tips of his fingers up the inside of my calf.
He held a finger to his lips for a moment before saying, “Just relax.”
His fingertips swept over my knee and began to zigzag, inner, front and outer thigh sending tingling sensations from the point of contact directly to my sex. I shifted around on the couch.
“Don’t you like it? Do you want me to stop? I’m sorry.”
“Marc, it’s just I’m—” I paused and he jutted his cleft chin towards me urging me to continue. “I’m filthy.” His lips parted and he raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I’m dirty.” I laughed as I waved a hand up and down my dress, catching the drift of his thoughts from the look on his face.
“Oh.” He blinked, turning his head away. His eyes returned to mine. They glistened and gleamed in the moonlight. Slowly, he turned his body to face me and rose up off the seat. He placed a knee on the couch and nudged my knees apart with his hip as he leaned towards me. He took the glass from my hand and set it down on the polished wooden floor. I sat up straight closing the space between us, my hands aching to touch him, to feel his warm skin beneath them. I threw my arms around his neck at super speed making him flinch. I couldn’t control my rapidity while being so emotionally charged as well as being horny as hell.
I clamped my mouth on his fiercely. I knew he was ‘something’ and I thought he’d realised the same about me. I didn’t want to talk about it right now. It could wait.
My tongue darted into his mouth, my coldness against his warmth. He used his weight to guide me back down onto the sofa, his body positioned in between my parted legs. Our lips locked as our tongues danced together in an intoxicating rhythm. I raised both of my legs and interlocked them behind his back, pulling him closer to me, squeezing him like a snake attacking her pray, jolting at the bumps of his rigid abs against my pulsating clit beneath my panties.
He lifted me up so I sat upright facing him on his lap, my legs still wrapped around his torso. I smiled against his lips when I felt his erection brush against me. With him being so much taller than me, I hadn’t realised his evident excitement when we were lying down. I grinded against him, causing a moan to escape his throat and vibrate on my lips.
He grasped a handful of my hair and pulled my head back exposing my throat to him and planted soft kisses all over my neck. Releasing my rusty locks he stood up and carried me towards the stairway.
I let my head drop forward, closed my eyes and rested my nose against his, with our foreheads together.
“You need a shower, you dirty girl.” He slapped my backside playfully.
I giggled like a schoolgirl as we descended the stairs of the upside down house.
L.T. Kelly was born and raised in Solihull, UK. She started writing short stories at school where her teachers offered her lots of feedback and encouragement.
Aged seventeen she joined the Royal Air Force, her career didn’t reserve a lot of time to write so she pushed her passion for it to the back of her mind.
After an eleven and a half career she started writing short stories again until a friend commented that she should write a novel.
She has always had an unhealthy obsession with vampires, so of course it was inevitable that a plot involving vampires would be the first to spring to mind. L.T. Kelly lives in Lincolnshire, UK with her husband and two children.
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