Blood Script by Airicka Phoenix

Author:Airicka Phoenix [Phoenix, Airicka]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense romance, Love & Romance, Romance > Contemporary, erotic romance
Publisher: Airicka Phoenix
Published: 2017-04-08T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Cora woke the next morning to the sensation of having a boulder strapped across her chest. The restriction of oxygen flow had her eyelids prying open to a thick curtain of sunlight from the windows she’d forgotten to close and a bulging man arm draped across her boobs. The latter was attached to a slumbering and deliciously naked man half slumped on top of her, one leg wedged firmly between hers and a scruffy face nestled into her neck.

He seemed to enjoy sleeping like that, she noted. He liked winding himself around her, crushing her, pinning her to him as if she might disappear in the night.

Secretly, she kind of liked it, too. Liked the confinement, the feeling of being absolutely surrounded and embraced. How could a girl not relish in the feeling of having a gorgeous man cocoon her like the idea of letting her go was inconceivable? Granted, she would have liked it a little better if he wasn’t suffocating her.

Blowing out what little air she’d managed to suck in, Cora turned her head into the featherlight wisps tickling her jaw. The silky strands were attached to the man breathing peacefully into her neck, and held the salty tang of ocean and metal. It was such a unique scent, one that could never be found in any bottle, one that was so him, so impeccably him—

Wild.

Dangerous.

Vast.

Mysterious.

Hard.

Impenetrable.

God, even in sleep, he smelled amazing, and felt even better. Every taut inch of him fitted like a perfect, velvet glove alongside hers. Not to mention that beautiful, hard cock wedged against her hip.

Fuck, she loved that cock.

She was obsessed with it.

Addicted to it.

It had become her heroine, seducing her to take that one last hit.

Only, it was never just that one.

She was perversely fine with that.

Absently, she skimmed her fingers through the thick mane, marveling at how downy the texture was for a man who faced sea mist and sun every day with some off the shelf bottle of shampoo.

Mane.

It made her think of lions.

The image made her giggle.

So fitting and yet there was no way to properly define James Crow.

He was a unique breed of animal.

An animal that held all the power over her.

She drew in a breath and closed her eyes.

Cora didn’t consider herself weak. She didn’t think herself helpless or vulnerable. She was raised by a father who ran an empire and a mother who was probably stronger than he was. She had an honorary aunt who killed people for money. She had a family who came from a very long line of dealers, smugglers, and murderers.

Criminals.

It was in her DNA.

She knew how to draw outside the lines.

She knew how to evade the police.

She knew how to step up and take her father’s place.

But she chose not to, because it wasn’t her.

She wasn’t capable of hurting another person, and she didn’t want to be.

Maybe that was her weakness.

Maybe that was her Achilles’s heel.

Maybe that was why she was incapable of killing James like she should.

Throughout her evening

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