Page 140 of The Failed Audition

I scan the room and my evidence clicks. “Because there aren’t any books in this room, besides maybe one…” I squint at the desk. “…Sports Illustratedmagazine, which is not a book.” His free time is usually spent in the company of family. Not with a trade paperback. I mean, I downloaded an iPhone game for him once as something to do, and his attention span lasted about thirty seconds. It was a good one too: Tiny Wings. But it ended with the phone thudding to the floor.

And me under Nikolai Kotova.

“You’re breathing heavy.”

I press my lips together. “No…I’m not.”

His gray eyes penetrate me. That’s not helping my cause. Then he returns to the vampire book, actually digesting the words. He stiffens some. “What is this?” he asks, looking genuinely curious as he turns another page.

“Okay, you’ve seen enough,” I say, leaning forward on his body to snatch it. He easily blocks my arm with his.

And he reads aloud, “Her flesh slapped my flesh in the heat of the night, the noises heightening our blood thirst and my…” He pauses and breaks into an even bigger smile.

“It’s not funny,” I say. “It’s agood book.”

“I can’t believe you’ve been reading this every night in bed.” He’s not judging, just surprised, I guess. Maybe he thought I was reading something more innocent. I’m really happy he doesn’t remember that I loaned this one to his little sister. I doubt he would approve.

He flips the page and reads, “Her wetness glistened in the candlelight. ‘You taste so good, baby,’ I groaned, licking the softness of her...” His brows rise at me.

My eyes have popped out of my face.

He rolls me over so that I’m underneath him, the weight of his body adding a hot pressure. I instinctively split my legs open, around him. Is this really happening?

With the paperback still opened in his hand, he reads, “I grip her face as her lips wrap around my member.” He gives me a confused look at the wordmember.

“Cock,” I say.

He tilts his head again, his intense gaze heating all of me. “I’ve never heard you say that word.”

“Really?”I think it all the time.“I…definitely said the word cocktail before.”

His lips keep rising, and he watches my ribcage jut in and out, just in a baggy shirt and fleece shorts while he’s in gray, thin cotton pants.

Then he reads, “‘Right there, baby. Good girl.’ That turns you on, myshka.”

“Not always…” I admit. I swallow, lust swimming in his grays. “I like what you do.”

He leans down and kisses my neck, sucking. “And what do I do?” he whispers in my nape, before kissing again.

I let out a breathy noise at the sensitivity, my nerves sparking. I arch up into him. He has to clasp my waist to keep me still. “That,” I breathe.

Before I can float away with these sensations, he sits up, skimming another page with a devilish grin. His eyes flicker to me as he reads. “I sank my fangs into her nape and pounded my erection between her curvy thighs.”

I can’t control my staggered breathing. “I’ve never heard you say that word,” I tell him now.Erection.

He runs a hand through his hair, pushing the longer strands back—I’m soaked. For sure. “Fangs?” His lips keep rising higher.

I shake my head. “Not that word…I mean, I actually…”I’ve never heard you say that either.I have no more oxygen to speak properly. He’s chasing me around the room, even if reality says I’m lying beneath him. It doesn’t feel that way.

“Thighs?” he says, more huskily, his hands running up the bareness of mine.

I tensely shake my head, my legs tightening around him, pulsing more intense.

“Erection.” He eye-fucks me.

I buck up, and a tight, low noise catches in his throat. He grips my hip again, and he keeps me still beneath him. I shut my eyes, his gaze basically drilling into me.

“Open your eyes, myshka.” I hear the smile in his voice.

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