Vincent by Reynolds D. B

Author:Reynolds, D. B. [Reynolds, D. B.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction & Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance, Fantasy, Paranormal & Urban, Literature & Fiction
ISBN: 9781611945614
Publisher: ImaJinn Books
Published: 2014-11-02T07:00:00+00:00

“I’M SORRY ABOUT . . . before. I was still asleep,” Lana said, pretending to be engrossed in packing her clothes. She was too mortified to look Vincent in the face. It would have been easier if she could have claimed that he’d taken advantage of her, that she hadn’t wanted him. But she knew it wasn’t true. She’d been dreaming about him, about exactly what they’d been doing when she finally woke up. Dreaming of rolling over to find Vincent’s powerful body crushing her into the mattress, his knee between her legs, spreading her thighs as he made love to her with his mouth. In her dream, she’d known that was just the beginning of what he’d do to her, and she’d welcomed that knowledge.

But then she’d woken up and realized it was more than a dream. Still, she’d been tempted to let it continue. But Vincent had sensed the change in her awareness almost before she did, and he’d registered her surprised reaction. And, damn it, he’d stopped. Just once, she’d have liked him to be a jerk. He’d be so much easier to resist if he was a jerk.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he assured her, zipping his bag and heading past her to the door. “You were dreaming—”

She thought he was going to let it go at that, but while he wasn’t a jerk, he was still Vincent.

“—of me,” he added, leaning down to whisper the words into her ear as he passed by, his breath warm, tickling as it brushed aside a few hairs that had escaped her braid.

Lana shivered. She’d never wanted anyone the way she wanted Vincent. She was a grown woman, twenty-nine years old, for God’s sake. Dave Harrington might have been her first, but he sure as hell hadn’t been her last. She’d had good lovers and bad, some tender, some . . . not. But she’d never experienced the kind of sheer, burning desire that she felt for Vincent.

She straightened, lifting her duffel as Jerry emerged from the adjoining room. He was wearing the same clothes he’d worn the day before, because he didn’t have anything else. Lana reminded herself to ask Vincent to stop somewhere so Jerry could shop. But despite the wrinkled and dirty clothing, Jerry looked fresher and more relaxed, and he’d obviously showered.

“Good evening, Lana.”

“Hey, Jerry. Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you.”

“Sorry about the lack of air conditioning. But at least there was a bed, huh?”

“Those things don’t matter. What matters is that for the first time in two years, I woke without fearing for my life.”

Lana looked at him in dismay.

“Vincent did that. I woke and I knew I was safe.” He gave her a smile tinged with sadness, then continued past her and out the door.

She stared after him. He was right. Vincent had done that. He’d freed Jerry from a very long life of horrible servitude. She sighed. The evidence was piling up, and it was confirming that Vincent wasn’t a jerk.

Man, she was so totally screwed.

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