Blood, Cupcakes and Wicked Business (Grimstone Island) by Rochelle Pearson

Author:Rochelle Pearson [Pearson, Rochelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Robyn peterman Kristin painter renee George Dakota cassidy, Paranormal cozy mysteries cozy mystery supernatural, Nocturne falls universe nocturne falls paranormal romantic comedy vampire romance
Publisher: Rochelle Pearson
Published: 2018-06-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Dawn’s peach light spilled on the sheets, spreading to an elf’s restless limbs. He watched it cover a blanket-less naked body, then over the edge of the bed.

Keeland willed the color to change to crimson—the same shade as Veronica’s stunning irises.

A small groan brought upon when remembering how they glittered as an orgasm crippled her to fall limp in his arms. I caused that. Her soft curves in his grasp; prior fantasies didn’t live up to the actual thing.

Gods, he wanted more. More of his wicked woman. More of her sounds of pleasure being pushed to release. More of her creamy, porcelain flesh, filling his large hands, and hungry mouth. My she-beast, who clawed his chest, and down his abs. Who kissed as if he were the coveted magic to finally breathe air into her oxygen-deprived body.

And who verbally bit off the head of the intercom person.

“Wow,” Keeland chuckled. That had been funny as hell. He thought for sure she’d want to stop after that, but nope, Veronica Ardelean continued to amaze him.

I could still taste her.

Wallowing deeper in these flashbacks had harden him. Hand gripping the base, Keeland shut his eyes. She—

The shrill ringing of a phone ripped away savory images. Is this fucking real? You’ve got to be kidding me. After snatching the blasted disturbance off the nightstand, on screen displayed a number he’d come to dread seeing, and drooped his dick like a wilted flower. “Elwood.”

“Hello, Mr. Elwood. I hope I am not interrupting.”

The lawyer for George Matthews was indeed interrupting. Something super damn great. And for that he almost growled in the man’s ear. “What is it?” Keeland’s tone suggested he seriously get right to the point.

The conversation continued way on after he’d dressed and through the drive to The Tower and into his office. Keeland continued to listen, while trying unsuccessfully to keep a monstrous storm of anger in check. The rectangular device still glued to his pointed ear spewed utter bullshit until he wanted to hurl it through a fucking wall. But this sorry excuse of a man on the other line went on and on.

When he was done, Keeland was seething. Mona and other employees ventured in, wondering what had just happened.

He couldn’t explain, not a chance yet, because then the damn phone rang again.

This time it was The Missing Goblin: Remington.

Once that call was over, Keeland was ready to murder every single moving thing in sight.

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