A Body to Die For. Kimberly Raye

A Body to Die For - Kimberly  Raye


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and she all but fought me for the pole when I did my strip-your-way-into-his-heart seminar.”

      “They sound very effective.”

      “And pretty darned tasty. You really ought to sit in tonight and try a few for yourself. You might even pick up some pointers on how to be more sexy.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I’m going to reveal my ten Do-Me-Baby Commandments after we finish blow jobs. It’s a special list I put together over the past few months based on my own experience as a vibrant, sexually active woman.” When Viv looked doubtful, she added, “Back in the day, that is. I’m not nearly as sexually active as I should be right now on account of I’m still pining for my late husband.”

      That and she was still waiting on Morty Donovan to haul his carcass out of his rocking chair and ask her for a date. Morty was in charge of Bingo over at the senior center. He also had the whitest dentures in town because his grandson was a cosmetic dentist, and Morty got free bleaching with every visit.

      “If you can manage to learn all ten of them,” Winona said, “there ain’t a man alive who’ll be able to resist you.”

      While Viv had no trouble consuming liquids, anything solid (even if it was one hundred and eighty proof) was completely off-limits. Even more, the last thing she needed was a how-to list to beef up her sex appeal. She’d been oozing vampire mojo for over two centuries. She already knew that no man could resist her.

      But Garret Sawyer wasn’t a man.

      He was a vampire.

      Larger than life. Tall, dark and totally immune to her supernatural charms because he had plenty of his own.

      Forget being a persuasive, seductive female vampire. From here on out, it was all about being a persuasive, seductive female, period.

      A scary thought for a woman who’d been turned before she’d even lost her virginity. A woman who’d been so desperate for survival that she’d never learned how to rely on good, old-fashioned feminine wiles.

      No flirting or teasing. No licking her lips and batting her eyelashes. No being overly affectionate one minute and hard-to-get the next.

      She’d never played games with men.

      She’d never had to.

      “The first class is free. What do you say?” Winona asked, arching one silver eyebrow. “You want to join us?”

      Viv grabbed a rubber penis and glanced around. “Just tell me where to sit.”

      Chapter 5

      THE HALLWAY BENEATH the house was pitch-black, but it didn’t matter. Garret’s gaze sliced through the darkness and fixated on the door knob. Yes, he could see it, all right. He just couldn’t get his fingers around it because it kept moving.

      A little to the left…

      A little to the right…

      There.

      Wood creaked, and the door slammed inward.

      A single lamp burned on the nightstand and pushed back the shadows. The walls of the massive room seemed to vibrate. The plasma TV mounted on the opposite wall swam in front of him.

      He meant to pick his leg up and take a step inside, but damned if his body would cooperate. He slid forward. The rug caught the tip of his boot, and he tripped. His shoulder hit the edge of a thick maple dresser. His head slammed into the mirror. Glass shattered and pain cracked open his skull. He doubled over. His stomach churned and his throat burned and—

      Shit.

      He shouldn’t have drank so friggin’ much.

      No matter how desperate he was to forget.

      Images of Viv pushed into his head, and he could see her looming above him. Her long, silky black hair falling down around her shoulders. Her deep blue eyes glittering with pleasure. Moonlight bathed her pale breasts, her nipples red and ripe and so damned tempting. She braced her hands against his chest as she straddled him. Her head fell back, and her eyes closed. She started to move, her body lifting and sliding as her heat slithered down over his cock, and she rode him hard and deep and—

      Shit. Shit. Shit.

      Garret forced his eyes open and stared through a watery haze. A few blinks, and his vivid memories faded into the polished wood paneling. He gripped the edge of the dresser and hauled himself to his feet. Three steps, and his knee caught the nightstand. Wood crashed. Shafts of light bounced off the walls as the lamp toppled over and rolled across the hardwood floor.

      The noise knifed at his throbbing temples. He fell to his knees, floundering for the king-sized bed. Finally his hands made contact with the down comforter, and relief rushed through him. He needed to lie down for a little while.

      Sleep.

      When he woke up he would realize that it was all just a dream. Viv wasn’t really here in town, and he didn’t still want her so badly he could hardly stand it.

      He sprawled on the bed and closed his eyes, determined to shut out the thundering in his head, the pain in his body and her.

      Especially her.

      But he hadn’t drank nearly enough for that, and so the damnable vision followed him into the blackness. Teasing and taunting and reminding him of just how good they’d been together.

      How good they could be again if Garret let his guard down.

      But he wouldn’t.

      He’d been burned once before, and he wasn’t jumping into the fire again.

      No matter how much he suddenly wanted to.

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