Must Love Lycans (BH8) by Bardsley Michele

Author:Bardsley, Michele [Bardsley, Michele]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fiction > Paranormal Romance
ISBN: 9780451234506
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2011-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“I don’t have the boobs for this dress.” I glanced down into my sad cleavage and noted the way the front of it sagged. Elizabeth had a bigger rack than I did.

“Please,” said Damian in a pained voice, “do not mention your boobs. It makes me look at them and want to see them.”

“And do things to them?”

He groaned.

We were walking down a lushly carpeted hallway to a meeting room where we had been summoned by the vampire queen. Damian had filled me in, somewhat, about a few things. Vampires and werewolves were under the purview of a lycan-vampire named Patricia Marchand who ruled both species. Damian had not exactly clarified why he wasn’t ruling the lycans, and it didn’t exactly seem to be a sore point. But it did bother him.

Then he’d told me that the headquarters of a paranormal conglomerate named the Consortium was located here, and its massive compound held most of the official buildings and some residences. Damian’s small, spare house was located within the compound. Most of the citizens lived in town like regular (if by regular, you meant were-cats, fairies, vampires, lycans, and dragons) people.

I was still trying to wrap my brain around it all.

“This dress was actually owned by Jessica Rabbit,” I continued. “It’s all boobs!”

Damian enchained my wrist to halt me, and then he swept me into his arms. “If you say boobs one more time, I will drag you into the nearest janitorial closet and fuck you.”

Electric thrills raced through me. “Boo—”

He kissed me. Hard. I threw my arms around his neck and enjoyed the hell out of it. He pulled away, his breath harsh and his eyes glittering. “You’re trying to kill me.”

“Testing your resolve,” I said. “You don’t seem the type to issue empty threats. Honestly? I’m kinda disappointed.” I opened my mouth and he put his forefinger against my lips.

“Don’t say it. I’m already thinking about slamming you against a wall and pushing up that dress.”

My heart started to pound. I was instantly wet. And hot for him. Oh, sweet mamma jamma. “Will you rip off my panties?”

“Yes,” he said. He eyed me and then sighed. “I’m just giving you incentive, aren’t I?”

“Pretty much.”

“You are trouble,” he said. “We must see the queen, Kelsey. And you should know that she will not be in a good mood.”

“I’m a psychotherapist,” I said. “I rarely meet anyone in a good mood.”

Damian released me, and I didn’t insist he hold my hand because I could feel that he was uneasy with our burgeoning relationship. He wasn’t ready to display his affection for me, at least not in public. So I let him lead the way.

We entered a room that reminded me of a theater. The seating was angled and faced a small stage. On the stage was a long table and seated behind it were several people. I recognized Patrick and the brunette on the end. In the middle seat was a pretty blonde who wore a glittering T-shirt that read: QUEEN OF EVERYTHING.

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