Undead and Unwed by MaryJanice Davidson

Author:MaryJanice Davidson [Davidson, MaryJanice]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Publisher: Penguin Group USA, Inc.
Published: 2010-02-28T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

IT wasn’t a bad scream. It was a good scream. It was, in fact, a scream of ecstasy, like when I find out Gucci is having a shoe sale. Sinclair’s “ladyfriends”? Try harem.

It didn’t take long to find the room, even in a palace like this. I just followed the gasps and groans. By now I was pretty sure whoever had screamed wasn’t in trouble, but I was curious. And annoyed—if I was such a vampiric big shot, how come Sinclair the Fink was keeping me waiting?

I opened the door at the end of the hall and saw Tina standing before a large window. She turned, saw me, and spread her hands in apology. “They’re very busy,” she explained. “I didn’t have much luck getting his attention. It should only be a few more minutes.”

Curious, I walked over and stood beside her. The window was clear—it was like one of those rooms within a room you saw in police stations. And through the window I could see Sinclair and two—whoops, there was another set of tits—three women. They were writhing and groaning and purring in the middle of a bed that was, if possible, bigger than king-sized. I mean, that bed looked like a satin-covered acre.

It was a four-poster, and each poster was as big around as a tree trunk. The bed was covered in chocolate-colored satin sheets (well, at least they weren’t red…soooooo last year’s Cosmo), but the pillows—all nine—had been knocked to the floor.

Sinclair looked happy. He was almost smiling! And he ought to be, in the middle of a brunette nest like he was. The three women all had elbow-length dark hair and sturdy limbs…no anorexic models for this guy. One of them even had a gently rounded belly. Two of them were fair-skinned, and the third was the color of milk chocolate, with the high cheekbones of Egyptian royalty.

They were human. I was a little surprised at how easily I could tell. They had a glow, a vitality that Sinclair and Tina and I lacked. Maybe it was because their hearts had to beat so much faster, they had to take so many breaths.

I coughed. “Uh…should we be, like, spying on them?”

Tina looked surprised. “They can’t hear us. This glass is three inches thick. Besides, Sinclair doesn’t mind. This room usually has a watcher.”

“That’s sick!”

“No, that’s common sense.”

“Um, you know, I have a totally different definition of common sense.”

“Do you know how many men of power have been killed between the sheets?”

“I can safely say that I have no idea.”

“Well, it’s a lot. I told you he was a careful man. He never lets his guard down. Not even during times like these.”

I was (uncharacteristically) silent. That was one of the worst things I’d ever heard. If you couldn’t relax during sex—particularly during a Penthouse-inspired fantasy like this—well, that didn’t sound like much of a life. Being careful was one thing. Being buried alive was something else.

“Why can’t he stop?” I grumbled, folding my arms across my chest.

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