A Demonic Bundle Read Online Free PDF

at his comment. How did he know? She studied him for a moment, realizing she’d seen him before. He’d been outside Finola’s office today. He’d seen the fight.
    Her cheeks flushed hotter.
    “Yes,” she managed.
    He nodded, his hazel eyes sympathetic. She stared at those eyes, light brown flecked with deep green. She was surprised as she felt tingles of awareness skip through her body.
    “Can I help?” he asked. She really did like his voice; it was deep and rich and nice, like strong coffee sweetened with dark chocolate. Smooth, sweet.
    Her gaze roamed his face, realizing he was more than cute, really quite handsome. Oh, how she wished he could help. But she simply shook her head.
    He studied her for a moment, then to her surprise, reached forward and ran his thumb along her lower lip. She remained still under his brief touch, even though her body rioted with sensations she didn’t understand.
    “Cream-filling,” he said, and she blinked, trying to understand what he was talking about. Then he held up his hand and she saw a smudge of frosting on his thumb. To her utter amazement, he lifted the pad of his thumb to his mouth and sucked the confection off.
    Her belly—and lower—constricted at the sight and she found herself squeezing her thighs together to alleviate the sensation. It didn’t work.
    The man popped the remainder of his own Devil Dog into his mouth, then licked his fingers again when he was done, heightening the unfamiliar tightness in her belly and between her thighs.
    “Well, you can’t stay here,” he said. “The floor is cold and hard. It’s going to ruin your skirt.”
    Ava couldn’t care less about her skirt, but he was right. She couldn’t hide in the janitorial wing indefinitely. She couldn’t hide at all.
    She found she admired the length of his legs, and the hint of powerful muscles in his thighs as he rose. Then she realized he was holding out his hand, offering to help her up.
    She hesitated, then slipped her hand into his, immediately aware of his strong, slightly work-roughened palm and long, tapered fingers curling around hers.
    He pulled her up, then dropped his hold to bend over and clean up her mess. Seven empty wrappers. He had to be thinking something about that. But when he straightened, she couldn’t distinguish any judgment on his attractive features.
    He wadded up the mess and tossed it into a gray trash can in the corner of the office. He placed the almost empty box of Devil Dogs on the janitor’s metal desk.
    “Thank you,” she said, offering him a tentative, self-conscious smile.
    He smiled back and again she was intrigued by how charming his lopsided grin was.
    He opened the door for her, and waited as she peeked out, not seeming surprised by her surreptitious behavior. She supposed he knew binge-eating snack cakes wasn’t an acceptable activity for a model. And she hoped he understood she couldn’t be caught, especially by Finola White herself. She also hoped he wouldn’t mention this to anyone else. She’d been in the gossip rags for much less. But overeating would particularly enrage Finola. That was not how her boss wanted her top model labeled.
    Finola owned her, and there would be a huge price to pay for defying her. Far beyond just being replaced as the face of HOT! magazine. Beyond being fired outright. She would gladly accept either or both punishments. In fact, she would happily go back to the days when she’d been simple Addy Wellmeyer, but that wasn’t going to happen. That girl was long gone—signed away, along with her immortal soul.
    She stepped out into the hallway, which was blessedly empty, not that she expected anyone of importance to be in this area.
    So who was this man? And why had he come down here? Maybe he was of importance. He had been waiting outside Finola’s office today.
    She peeked at him, taking in his clothing. A simple white button down and black pants. Basic black oxfords, scuffed, not very dressy. He looked like a