Exist (Vampire Assassin League Book 30) Read Online Free PDF Page B

with it. Oh. Screw that idea. She was going to be an active participant. It might be a dream, but it was the best damn dream she’d ever had. It would probably ruin her sex life for the rest of her mortal years. Turn her off every future encounter.
    Leah ignored the slightest hint of inner voice.
    The one that cautioned.
    Warned.
    And got silenced.
    She sat, shoved her shoes off. Crawled to her knees, and—
    This was weird.
    It was her dream, yet she still wore Steve’s coat. How was that possible? It was undamaged, too. Well. No way was she damaging it. Or wrinkling it. Or doing anything that might clue Steven into the fact that she’d had a sex dream to end all sex dreams. Not even Doctor Freud would be able to analyze this. Leah opened buttons. The coat fell off. There wasn’t a hook in sight, so she did the next best thing. She stood and reached upward, barely managing to access the top of a cannonball post on the footboard so she could drape the suit coat over it.
    Then she swiveled, looked over and then down to Anso. And her jaw dropped.
    Holy shit.
    The man hadn’t been idle. He’d shed his clothing and stood staring up at her with eyes that glowed a strange shade. Dark red. Like pooled blood. But she didn’t lock gazes with him this time. Nor did she stop and mentally process what really did look like fangs. There was a reason. Anso was a massive and chiseled male. She didn’t have any way to avoid seeing and recognizing just how massive and chiseled. And he certainly wasn’t suffering Male Erectile Dysfunction. Oh. My. He had his hands on his hips, his pose indicative of a Michelangelo sculpture. Only Anso had a lot more than any nude model she’d ever seen. He was obviously proud of that fact.
    With good reason.
    Oh. My. My. My .
    She’d been right. This dream was going to ruin her for any other man. And any other interlude. For life. And...what the heck? It was going to be worth it!
    But wait!
    Damn everything .
    She couldn’t go through with this. The man standing before her deserved a supermodel for a lover, someone as fit as he was. Not a woman with a weight problem. One who wore goddess-sized clothing from specialty stores. Atop a girdle thing called shape-wear.
    Oh. Crap .
    She’d forgotten that. She’d have red marks. She’d probably look like a stuffed sausage. There was too much light in the room for this, and—
    Anso growled.
    He literally growled .
    Bass tones surged through the room with such power it lifted strands of her hair. The notes reached out and joined the thumping rhythm already in existence. Her thighs trembled with a rush of weakness. Her knees were next. Leah grabbed onto the footboard post to keep from falling. She moved her glance to the wood. It was solid. Heavy. Cool to the touch. And even that felt erotic between her breasts!
    “What?” she whispered.
    “You need to finish. Now.”
    Leah cleared her throat. It sounded ineffectual, and proved as much when she spoke, trying to sound assertive, even while facing the post. “Whoa. Anso. Um. There is machismo, and there is over-the-top macho. And I’m telling you—.”
    “I warn you, wiblih . You do not have much time.”
    She gasped. Her eyes went wide. Her voice managed to work. “What...does that word mean?”
    “Female.”
    Her eyes went even wider.
    “I will tear your clothing from you.”
    He wouldn’t dare.
    She sent a glance toward him. He looked like it wasn’t an idle threat. And damn everything. He also looked amazing masculine, supremely turned on, and even more defined and large than before.
    Everywhere.
    Well.
    What the hell.
    This was her dream, but if this fantasy-god made one wisecrack about her Junoesque figure or love handles or how she needed to hit a gym or stay away from the doughnuts – just one – she was ending this. She only hoped she didn’t cry for a week afterward, too.
    The linen jacket came off easily. The blouse buttons at the back of her neck gave her a little trouble. She