One
Claudia’s entire body was aflame, the fire deep within her only stoked further by Darren’s rugged hands on her hips, travelling higher and higher over the curves of her body. He cupped her face and stroked her smooth ebony skin with his weathered thumbs, careful not to cause any harm. He was still learning his strength, after all.
It required all he had not to let his monstrous instincts take over.
Had this been anyone but Claudia, his Claudia, he might not have fought so hard to protect her. In another scenario, his fangs would spring free, and he’d rear his head back before going in for the kill. But this was no ordinary woman. This was the woman he’d spent his childhood with. The woman he’d loved for years. He couldn’t possibly imagine hurting her.
Not unless she asked for it. Begged for it. And with how her body practically vibrated with anticipation, Darren could infer that she wasn’t far from doing exactly that.
“Please,” she whispered, her bare breasts rising and falling as her breathing grew quicker—shallower. Her desperation was palpable, a kind of ache comparable to none. There was no logical explanation for her lust.
She knew the man Darren was. The horrible things he’d done. The trail of bodies he’d left in his wake. None of it mattered. The last thought in her mind was how similar Darren was to a loaded gun with no safety. His imposing presence overtook her senses, and she found herself dizzy, falling for him like she was fifteen all over again.
“Tell me you want me,” he murmured against the side of her neck. God, what he wouldn’t have given for just a taste. The thudding, throbbing pulse against her throat made his cock harden and his jaw clench with unimaginable desire.
“I need you.”
Three words. Three simple, delicious words, her longing fully realized. They sounded even more erotic falling from those plush, pouting lips. Darren slipped one hand around the back of Claudia’s head and threaded his fingers through her silken hair. In a low, animalistic rumble, he ordered,
“On your knees for me.”
She obeyed, just as she always had. Claudia eased herself onto the carpet, hazel eyes trained upwards in complete submission. Darren ached in his trousers, but not for long. In a matter of moments, he undid the belt and button, unzipping and stepping out of the only thing keeping him moderately decent. Impossibly enough, he didn’t feel vulnerable completely naked. Claudia struggled to understand it. He seemed even more confident, more assured in his power.
“Now,” he said, gripping the base of his length. “Open your mouth for me, Claudia. I need you to—”
“Next!”
Jordan’s head snapped up at lightning speed, reeling as reality came rushing back to him. He stood in the deli line inside McDaniel’s Grocery, his nose buried in the latest Patricia Hayes novel he’d picked up last weekend. For just a moment, he’d forgotten where he was, but as he was pulled from the intensity of Claudia and Darren’s scene together, it all came back to him.
The slightly fishy smell of the lobster tank a few feet away. The humming buzz of the LED lights overhead. His cart with one cockeyed wheel spinning in whatever direction it wanted rather than the one he needed to go.
Behind the counter, a red-faced Tony stood with his hands on his hips, judgment etched into the deep wrinkles on his forehead. “I swear to God, Jordan,” he muttered.
“What?” It was an innocent enough question, but Tony only glared at him as they’d had this discussion countless times before.
“I called your name about five times. You had your nose buried up that book’s ass like you always do. Next time you do it, I’m just gonna start throwing salami slices at you. Maybe then you’ll start living in the real world with the rest of us.”
Tony meant well, as most people who’d repeated the same obnoxious advice always did, which was why Jordan was able to keep his eyes from rolling or his breath escaping in an irritated puff of air.
There was nothing wrong with him. In fact, he often wondered why it was that more people weren’t as obsessed with these stories as he was. Angsty romances involving lifelong friends, vampires that were portrayed as the monsters they were, and countless bloody murders? Every box of his was checked. He just needed more people to get up to speed.
“Why live in the real world when I can be around much more interesting people in these books?” Jordan asked as he approached the counter. He leaned in to examine the various meats and cheeses they’d added to the menu.
“You miss out on life when you have a book in your face,” Tony replied.
“Maybe. But I work all day, and then I go home to my fish, Tony. I eat honey-baked ham and cheese sandwiches for dinner every other night. I do my laundry for fun. Let me just have this one exciting thing in my life,” Jordan said, grinning.
Tony put his hands up, palms out. “Fine, fine. I’m just saying. You put that book down, and you’ll start seeing that there’s exciting things out here in the real world, too. You just have to know where to look for them.”
Jordan pointed to the meat and cheese that he wanted two pounds of, and Tony got to work, slicing and packaging them for him. Jordan leaned against the counter, slipping his bookmark between the pages of his book and carefully placing it in his cart. Nothing ruffled his feathers more than bent corners and crinkled pages.
“Here you go, buddy,” Tony said, handing his order over the counter.
“Thanks. Same time next week?” Jordan asked, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a wry smile.
“Get outta here.”
Laughing to himself, Jordan made his way to the register to pay for the groceries he’d picked up. It took everything in his power not to stop by the pharmacy section and peruse the newest books that had been added. He knew from experience that McDaniel’s restocked the shelves every Tuesday, and the last time he’d been to the store was the previous Friday. Still, Jordan kept his resolve and pushed forward, swiping his card and thanking the cashier on his way out.
He couldn’t blow all his money on more books when he had an ever-growing stack sitting on his nightstand and the book club to worry about.
“Shit, the book club,” he said to himself. He nearly ran over a small child with his cart as he hurried outside to his car.
As he climbed into the driver’s seat, he scolded himself for being so airheaded. This wasn’t like him. In any other given event, Jordan would have been more organized than this. He kept an agenda in his back pocket and religiously scribbled down any date or fact he wanted to remember, no matter how inconsequential or menial. He had nightmares about showing up somewhere unprepared, and when he was younger, his parents had always scolded him for rearranging the kitchen cabinets in alphabetic order.
Jordan Collins didn’t forget things, and certainly not something as monumental as Meet Cute Club.
Still, he kept his foot steady on the pedal, taking all the shortcuts he could to get to Millerstone, a small bookstore that he frequented more often than most people thought healthy. He blamed Patricia Hayes for his lapse in memory. Her latest release, Kiss at Sundown, had consumed the past few days of his life. Unlike anyone normal, Jordan had opted to reread the entire eight-book series again, that way he wouldn’t forget a single detail when he finally got his hands on her latest release.