Dark Pleasures: A Novel of the Dark Ones (Pure Dark Ones Book 4) by Aja James

Author:Aja James [James, Aja]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: erotic, Fantasy, paranormal, Romance
Publisher: Amazon
Published: 2018-06-14T16:00:00+00:00

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Devlin sipped his pint of specialty beer from tap in a pub filled with young, good looking people, all of whom had given him the once or twice-over the moment he entered the establishment.

For all the world, he looked like a confident, well-to-do man about town, ready to flirt, handy with compliments, a mysteriously devilish smile teasing the corners of his sculpted lips, just waiting for the right opportunity to spread wide.

This pub would be one of many stops tonight for an experienced Casanova such as he, no doubt. Wherever he went, covetous eyes would follow, hungering to catch a crumb of his careless charm.

But the good looking twenty-somethings was not the reason Devlin had chosen this particular pub. Despite his best intentions, he’d wandered onto this street and into this joint because it sat directly across the road from Grace Darling’s apartment.

He sighed into his beer glass, frustrated to no end with himself.

It was bad enough that he pined for her in his thoughts, but now he was stalking her in the flesh. Maybe not stalking per se, but venturing within proximity of her despite her very explicit request to not lay eyes on him again.

Well, if she walked out her front door and looked across the street, she’d see him right away, sitting in front of the window like a besotted, calf-eyed ninnyhammer.

Honestly, two nights of unforgettable, explosive, marathon sex should not make him this…infatuated? Obsessed? Fixated and possessed?

The irony was that it wasn’t even the sex that he couldn’t let go of—though that was rather memorable, and he feared, unrepeatable with any other female.

It was her insect-like eyebrows and eyelashes, her long, unblinking stares and stuttering conversation. Her deep, clear, innocent eyes. Her pillowy, generous, honeysuckle mouth.

That mouth. That kiss. That mistake of a kiss was what did him in.

Devlin shook himself mentally. He was starting to think with purple prose. What next? Penning desperate, badly conceived love poems and surreptitiously sliding them beneath her front door?

“Mind if I join you?”

A voluptuous brunette sidled up to Devlin’s stakeout at the counter that ran along the length of the pub’s front window.

He glanced at her briefly, taking in the self-assurance of someone who must be called “gorgeous” and “stunning” several times a day, the come-hither smile on her heart-shaped lips, the blatant sparkle of invitation in her large, arrestingly blue eyes.

She was a bona fide twenty on a scale of ten, and Devlin was not even one iota attracted to her. All she presented was a nuisance.

“Have a seat,” he invited nonetheless, the gentleman in him too well-trained to say otherwise.

She slowly maneuvered all her curves into a sitting position on the stool next to his, contorting her long, lithe body this way and that and letting all her bouncy bits jiggle and wiggle just the right amount, as if to say, “look how firm they are, my size-D boobs and peach-like bottom. Test them for springiness and see for yourself. Come on, you know you want to.

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