Nymph (A Paranormal Romance Trilogy, #1)
sex. It was voracious, and always had been. If anything, it was getting more and more powerful, and harder and harder to ignore. Even now, as she was stewing, half her mind was fantasising about having her clit licked by a random guy, or her ass fingered, or her butt spanked, or her mouth fucked, or just about anything that would help get her off.
    And she was used to that constant underlying arousal, even if it was more so than normal; she could ignore it for the most part, until it became too much and she had to act upon it.
    She’d managed to go a whole day without having to do that, partly down to the stewing she was doing.
    Chloe shook it all from her head, and looked out of the window.
    Patrick was patrolling the car slowly down a side street, for no other reason than because.
    She heard the noise of the tires on the road surface, hitting stones and potholes, as the suspension smoothed their ride.
    “You’re quiet,” he said, staring out of the other window as he drove.
    She shrugged, didn’t know what to say to that.
    “Talk if you want,” he said after another beat of silence.
    She didn’t want.
    They were approaching a corner, and a few males were sauntering around, looking a little suspicious.
    “Something to do I guess,” Patrick said, before parking up and sounding the siren once.
    All faces looked their way.
    “You hang back,” he instructed, then got out and approached as she climbed out and hovered a few feet behind.
    She couldn’t quite hear what was being said, and her mind began to wander. In a few short seconds, she relived her whole encounter with the hooded man, from start to finish, in vivid detail, and while nothing made sense, it all seemed clear again.
    And that irked her.
    She wanted to prove the bastard wrong.
    But she needed to focus on the now.
    She noticed one of the guys was slowly stepping away from the group, trying to keep out of Patrick’s eye line, and so she walked to him and blocked his motion.
    He actually walked backwards into her.
    The tiny commotion made everyone look their way, and his escape was thwarted.
    He towered over her though, in spite of his sudden reverential respect. She found it odd these days to see this kind of awe in citizens, and she had to hide a smile. This group was doing nothing wrong, and here they were, interrupting their afternoon for no apparent reason. And the group, they were being polite about it.
    It was counter to the growing sense of fear and palpable tension in the city right now.
    And that made her think.
    She remembered something he’d said about them not being afraid of daylight.
    Chloe looked at the man before her, all muscle and height. She even sniffed at him, trying to get a sense of who he might be. He smelt masculine, and she wondered if the Suckers gave off an odour.
    Patrick was joking around with the group now, and they were joining in, relaxing now it was clear they weren’t in trouble.
    And yet, Chloe suspected something.
    “You,” she whispered to the giant next to her. “With me.”
    She jerked her head, and lead him off, exchanging a look with Patrick as she went. He gave a surreptitious little nod, and let her go. It was one of their tricks; separate the group, get one talking while the others wondered what was being said.
    Chloe kept walking, feeling the mass of the man next to her. His size reminded her of Hunter.
    “What’s your name sir?”
    “Darius.”
    “Everything okay Darius?”
    “Yes ma’am.”
    “Come round here.”
    They stepped down another side street, out of view of the rest of the others. Darius seemed to relax a little now. Maybe because he knew he could crush her at any time, or maybe because of something else. She held her belt, fingers close to her baton and gun at all times, as she looked up into his face.
    “Something you need to tell me?” she asked.
    “No ma’am.”
    “You seemed keen to distance yourself from those guys.”
    “Did I? Didn’t mean to. Just get nervous around you
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