Whisper to Me (Borne Vampires Book 1)

Whisper to Me (Borne Vampires Book 1) Read Free

Book: Whisper to Me (Borne Vampires Book 1) Read Free
Author: W.M. Petzler
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flipped on the light. Stripping her down to her white, lacy underwear,
he saw she wore a silver medallion necklace. Taking it in his hand, he read the
runes marking around the black cross.
    A protection spell? Why would Mariah Jordan need a
protection spell?
    His questions would have to wait, feeling her skin
ice cold. He wrapped a towel around her and sat on the closed toilet with her
propped across his lap. Turning on the faucet, he took a washcloth, wetting it,
and wiped the blood off her throat and mouth. When he finished cleaning her, he
carried her back to the living room and tossed aside the quilts covering the
bed.
    Laying her on the bed, he drew away the towel and
carefully arranged her long auburn hair over her shoulder. The softly curling
mass nearly reached her waist. Thick, black lashes lay against her pale skin,
and he wondered what color her eyes were. Against his better judgment, he removed
her bra. Captivated by the sight of her soft, rounded breasts, pink nipples
erect and tempting, made his mouth water to taste them. Shifting his gaze down
to her narrow waist and curved hips, he slowly drew down her underwear, and his
mouth went dry when his eyes fastened upon the curling nest of auburn hair at
the crux between her shapely legs. All coherent thought fled him. Lust arose hard
and sweet, a delicious feeling that had eluded him for the last thirty-odd
years.
    And it had to be a human female who made him feel
again. The same one he could be put to death for. How ironic. Shaking his head
at his bizarre situation, he reached for the quilts and tucked her in. Straightening,
he saw on the kitchen table was a laptop and opened it. Words appeared on the
screen, reading what was typed, the vivid and extremely erotic love scene she had
written made his libido stir. Looking at Mariah, he grinned, having gotten a
taste of the wild side of the romance writer. If given the opportunity, he would
most willingly be a test subject for any ideas she wanted to experiment with.
    Bloody and dirty, he decided to use her shower to
clean up. He saw her dogs sitting beside the bed, watching Mariah sleep. Kneeling
down, he petted the male, whose silk black fur was broken by a gold mask on his
face that extended down his broad chest, under belly. Two white stockings on
his front feet. Although the animal accepted his touch, the dog kept his gaze fixed
upon Mariah. The wolf, on the other hand, must have decided to forgive him and
pushed at him with her nose until he petted her.
    Wearily, he rose to his feet and undressed. Setting
his boots aside, he tossed his and Mariah's clothes into the fire, adding wood
to destroy evidence of him and her involvement with him. Striding naked into
the bathroom, he stood before the mirror, examining the damage done when he’d
been shot. The bleeding had stopped, but there were ragged, puckered wounds of torn
flesh scattered across his wide, hairless chest. Teeth clenched, he dug the
bullets out and tossed the bloodied lumps of silver into the white porcelain
sink.
    His body began to heal when he stepped into the
shower stall and turned on the hot water. Ducking under the spray, he took the
bar of soap and scrubbed the blood off him. When he felt clean, he ended his
bath and grabbed a towel, drying off on his way to check on Mariah.
    Sleeping peacefully, she showed no signs of
turning. His relief was short-lived. She was still in danger. To protect her,
he had to make her forget about him, wipe out all memory of their meeting, in
case the hunters found her cabin and questioned her about him.
    Whispering in her ear, he ‘willed’ her to listen
to him, “Nothing happened tonight, nothing out of the ordinary. Dogs didn’t
even bark. Sleep, Mariah, sleep, and forget about me.”
    Sighing, he stood and tossed the towel on the
recliner. Retrieving his boots on his way outside, he locked the door and
closed it behind him. He stood on the front porch, observing the beauty of the
forest in the predawn hour.

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