Page 27 of Sexual Appetites of Vampires

What the hell was this room? She shook her head, wanting nothing more than to get out of there. But where was the door and what obstacles did, she need to get passed to reach it?

She could call out to Michael for help, but why hadn’t he realized she needed help. He read her thoughts so easily. Was he sleeping? Could he not sense her when he slept?

She shook her head again and gave herself a small pep talk. “You’re on your own, always have been. You can do this.”

Lara took several cautious steps, bumped into a thing or two, though didn’t dare touch the objects for fear of being pricked again. After what seemed like forever, but was probably only a few minutes, her hand finally connected with the frame of the doorway. She sighed with relief and stepped through the door.

The wall sconces suddenly flamed with light, and there at the end of the hallway by the stairs stood Michael in nothing but his black sweatpants, his chest muscles taut, his eyes flaming red and his fangs protruding.

Instinct took over, she ran in the only direction left to her—straight for his bedroom. Once inside, she locked the double doors. Her heart beat like a mighty drum against her chest, fear sent gooseflesh crawling over her entire body, and her wide-eyed stare was glued to the doors.

“Lara.”

She froze. It wasn’t in her head she heard her name being called. It was from behind her.

CHAPTER 9

Lara turned slowly around. If she had any doubt that he was a vampire, she sure in hell didn’t doubt it now. His eyes blazed with red fury and his fangs were so pointy that she cringed with sympathy for his victims. Was she about to be one of them?

“You’re hurt,” Michael said, his tone angry rather than consoling.

Her hand flew to her bottom, and she was surprised to feel a sticky wetness that had seeped through her pajama bottoms and robe. She raised her hand, shocked to see blood on it. She looked at Michael, and she could have sworn she saw saliva dripping in anticipation from his fangs.

She didn’t think, she slammed her bloody hand against her neck, like that would stop him, but it had been a gut reaction to protect herself.

He lunged forward and was in front of her in seconds.

Her hand flew off her neck and slapped against his naked chest; it did little good. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to his...bathroom? He lowered her to stand on the tile floor and removed her robe, then he grabbed the waistbandof her pajama bottom and yanked it down before she could stop him.

“Step out and turn around,” he ordered after bending down to slip her bottoms out from beneath her feet when she lifted each foot.

“What are you doing?” she finally managed to get out, looking down at him crouching in front of her, his face not far from her...damn, just thinking about it made her...don’t think, don’t think.

“Yes, don’t think.”

Was that a snarl that accompanied his warning?

“Between the scent of your intoxicating blood, the sweetness between your legs and that deliciously pulsing nub of yours, I’m finding it extremely difficult to kept myself from carting you off to my bed and making you?—”

He stopped abruptly, and she was relieved that he did, since she was pulsating in places she didn’t think pulsated.

“I need to cleanse the wound you got from the Chair of Torture. Have you had a tetanus shot lately?”

“Chair of what?” she said, yanking her knit top down as far as she could get it.

“Tetanus shot?” he demanded.

A warning look from his hot red eyes had her answering quickly. “I keep it updated, since I find myself in strange situations like sitting on the Chair of Torture.”

He sprang up so fast that it caused Lara to spring back, her hands slamming back against the vanity to keep her steady.

Michael stepped in front of her, bracing his hands on the vanity as well, to either side of her, trapping her with his body. He stood much too close, and her body reacted. It didn’t just strike a spark; it blazed.

“How you got in the room of torture, I?—”

“Room of torture?” she all but squealed.

“It’s what I called it when I was young. My grandfather has and continues to collect torture devices throughout the ages and donates them to various museums around the world. He hopes it will make humans realize something about their own humanity. The pieces in there are recent arrivals.”

---