Lonely Cowboy by Jan Irving

Author:Jan Irving [Irving, Jan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Erotic Romance Fiction
Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
Published: 2014-01-16T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Tate’s eyes flickered open. He felt heavy in his body. And warm. Too warm.

He kicked the quilts off.

Why was he covered in so many quilts? Oh, yeah, he usually got cold. He got cold so easily but not now…now he felt… Now he was different.

He frowned, not understanding how he was different but it didn’t matter.

Hunger burned. Hunger like he’d never experienced it, blazing like a forest fire, lighting him up.

He sat up, licking his lips.

The sun was up. Noon? It looked like around noon… Blue sky, bright sun, something wrong. Burning into his eyes. He shielded them, so sensitive. Why hadn’t he closed the fucking drapes before going to sleep?

The bed creaked, so loud to his ears as he shifted and put one bare foot on the floor. He was wearing P.J. bottoms. Huh, weird. He couldn’t remember wearing them once since he’d come to stay at the cabin, no matter how cold it got.

He nearly put his foot on the man lying on the floor, lost to sleep.

Tate’s throat tightened.

Simon.

Oh, God, he looked worn out, dirty, smeared with…blood?

Claws, blood spraying, Simon begging. Begging someone…them? To please… Don’t hurt him. God, don’t hurt him!

Before he could lose himself again, Tate shook off the weird flashback. It didn’t make sense, a giant piece of a jigsaw puzzle that just didn’t make sense in his ordinary life.

He remembered he’d finally persuaded Simon to move in with him. Simon wanted to protect Tate, so—

Tate blinked. Whatever. He was hungry. He wouldn’t think because it hurt to think because there were things that would scare him if he let himself think about them.

Carefully he stepped over the sleeping Simon.

The cold floor made his feet hurt. His feet felt as they’d been sandpapered, as if every part of his skin was sensitised. He limped carefully to his kitchen, shielding his eyes from the glare. Holy crap, had it always been this bright?

But then he forgot about the light as he opened his fridge.

Tofu…smelt like old milk. Bread. Yuck. Pizza smelt off. Vegetables… Big yuck. Chocolate yogurt. Oh, yeah. He pulled it out, ripped the cover off and spooned it into his mouth with his fingers. Oh, God, yes. Taste, sensation. Chocolate. Funny, he’d bought this shit by accident. He didn’t usually like chocolate but now… Oh, it was amazing right now, like he’d never truly tasted it before. It went beyond mere taste into something almost three-dimensional, like he could feel the dark silt of the cocoa powder, like he could feel the milk solids going to his aching bones, and he was so hungry and it was gone and he needed more. Needed.

Eggs. Free range box in his hands and he was cracking each one against his mouth and sucking the contents, starved, so starved, goo running down his face, dripping down his bare chest and he didn’t care. Eggs were ecstasy. Why had he never realised?

He sniffed. Cheese. There was cheese in there. It wasn’t quite what he wanted but it

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