Crying for the Moon Read Online Free PDF

soccer field, tearing his shirt off over his head and waving it like a flag as he ran, grinning like a fiend when he scored the winning goal. Alex could see him now, sweat running in rivulets down his neck and over his collarbone, inviting Alex to lean over and sink his teeth into Tate’s skin. Alex was aroused and confused by the intensity of the vivid image. He automatically started to shove it aside and felt unreasonably angry that this was his first reaction. This was your choice when you decided to leave the Life. You can’t just feed on whomever you desire now.
    Heedless of his risk, Tate opened the fridge next, bending over and making a show of peering inside, the inside light casting a warm glow across his face and neck.
    Damn, but he had a sweet, tight ass as well.
    “Nothing much in here either. How many people do you have coming over?” Tate shut the fridge and straightened, one hand still on the handle.
    “Four.” Alex began to have some misgivings about his planned meal.
    Astonishingly, Tate continued his explorations, opening the cabinet next to the fridge. It was nearly bare, with only a couple of cans of cat food. Tate shut the cabinet again and looked accusingly at Alex.
    “I’m not feeding the stray cats. Well, not all of them. Only EPT.”
    “EPT?” Tate frowned. It wasn’t his fault that he looked sexy even when he did that. “That sounds familiar. Doesn’t that stand for something like Early Pregnancy Test?”
    Alex snorted and shook his head. “Nope. Evil Psycho Tom. That’s what I call him. You know, the one that’s semi-tame? One minute, he’s practically rubbing up against you and the next he’s growling and hissing.”
    Tate looked startled, and then he burst into laughter. “EPT. Perfect. I’ll have to remember that one. Okay.” He indicated the rest of the kitchen with the wave of a hand. “Show me what you’ve got.” Tate leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest, making a beckoning gesture with the fingers of one hand.
    Don’t look at his neck. Don’t look at his neck . “Are you always so nosy?” Alex asked as he crossed over to the cabinets beside Tate and took out the package of pasta and the jar of sauce.
    “I prefer to call it curiosity. That’s it?” Tate was incredulously amused. “You plan to feed five people off of this? Are Nick and Peter among the guests? Because I’m thinking you don’t have nearly enough food here.” He opened one of the drawers and felt around inside, holding up a bar of Godiva dark chocolate with a smirk before replacing it and closing the drawer once more.
    “Damn it.” Alex sighed. “I’ll have to call Nick and ask him to pick up some pizza on his way in.” He hated doing that. He would pay him back, of course, but he got the impression money was tight for Nick.
    Tate opened and closed another cabinet. “What exactly were you planning to serve dinner on? Have you unpacked your plates?”
    Damn. He knew he’d forgotten something earlier. He didn’t even have plates, other than the one he’d been washing and reusing. “I can’t find them,” he lied. Just another indication he’d spent too much time in the Life. He’d practically forgotten how to behave like a human.
    His expression must have given him away again because Tate laughed once more. “Okay. Don’t bite my head off here, but I have an idea.”
    Alex blinked at Tate’s words and tried to focus. “Okay,” he said warily.
    “I just came back from the store. I’ve got plenty of food in the car. Why don’t you let me help you out here with your party? You can always pay me back later.”
    “I don’t know…,”Alex began.
    Tate held up a hand. “Really, it’s no big deal. When will your friends get here? Don’t you want to take a shower first?” He pointed toward the ceiling to indicate the bathroom upstairs.
    Alex looked at his watch again. Damn it, Tate was right. “Yeah, but I’m running out of time.”
    “Well, problem