enough, but he probably got his shipped to his house from only the finest of selections.
His eyes didn’t miss her reaction. He walked behind the bar then grabbed a glass. “What do you like to drink?”
She wet her drying lips. Her tongue suddenly felt parched. She’d been running on fumes so to speak. Even her clothes were bagging on her from losing a few pounds. She could go a few days with only some blood but it made her crabby, tired, and weak. She couldn’t eat in front of him since essentially that’s what she’d be doing. How could she take a sip of anything he had and not get that heavy-limbed relaxed feeling throughout her body? That drunk numbness that made everything feel wonderful if only for a little while. That’s how she’d feel if she drank any of the good blood he had. Plus, she tended to get girly giddy. So not the way to get a new job.
“I really shouldn’t drink,” she said gently and took a seat in one of the brown leather chairs. Her eyes rounded as she sat on the plush cushion then slowly sank into it.
His powerful eyes held hers for several moments. She couldn’t look away. Something about his eyes, or maybe, what he was thinking behind those eyes, captivated her.
“Seeing as this is a unique occasion I say we both share one.” He grabbed another glass then started pouring a deep red, thick liquid into it. If her stomach could growl, it would have.
“No, really that’s not necessary, Mr. Blackmoore.”
“Please, call me Dom.”
Her eyebrows rose, then he stood before her holding out a lowball glass with the letter “B” carved into the side. She took it. Instantly the scent of ripe, delicious blood mixed with dark wine filled her nostrils. She breathed it in and would have rolled her eyes back and sighed if not for the man in front of her.
She’d been right on the drink count. This wasn’t the good stuff—this was the fine stuff. Sure you could mix your own concoction of cheap red wine bought at the grocery store with your cheap blood bought from the blood bank, but it didn’t smell like this and Felicity would bet it didn’t taste nearly as good either.
Still she didn’t drink it as he took the seat across from her. His eyes never left hers. It was entirely unsettling the way he watched her. Was this some kind of interview tactic? Maybe he wanted to intimidate her to see what kind of stern stuff she was made of.
Well, she was made of stern stuff indeed.
With a small smile she leaned back into the buttery soft leather chair and held her glass on her leg as he did. His eyes flicked to the drink then back to her face. Just the corner of his mouth quirked up.
“Try it. You’ll like it.”
He said it as if he already knew that. This would be impossible seeing as she’d never tried the drink and just because it smelled good didn’t always mean it tasted as good.
“And how do you know that, Mr. Blackmoore?” She lifted the glass to her nose and inhaled the sweet fragrance of plump red grapes, woods, and the coppery hint of blood. Her tongue turned brittle in her mouth. Her hand started trembling as she set the glass back against her thigh.
The quirk of his lip lifted higher. It was the confident look of a man who had no doubts. “Why don’t you try it and let me know if I’m right or not.”
He lifted his glass and took a sip, not needing to sniff the unique fragrance he probably smelled all the time.
Then a devil wearing a skin-tight leather corset, fishnet stockings and black knee-high boots popped up on her shoulder. It looked quite like Felicity with her wavy blonde hair but this little devil had smoky, heavily kohled eyes, dark ruby lips, and flushed bronzed cheeks. She was a much sexier, much crazier Felicity that she didn’t get to let come out and play much anymore.
Just drink some. You might not get this job but you’ll never get another chance to drink something so good , the devil said.
Felicity waited a tick to see if Felicity Angel would
His eyes didn’t miss her reaction. He walked behind the bar then grabbed a glass. “What do you like to drink?”
She wet her drying lips. Her tongue suddenly felt parched. She’d been running on fumes so to speak. Even her clothes were bagging on her from losing a few pounds. She could go a few days with only some blood but it made her crabby, tired, and weak. She couldn’t eat in front of him since essentially that’s what she’d be doing. How could she take a sip of anything he had and not get that heavy-limbed relaxed feeling throughout her body? That drunk numbness that made everything feel wonderful if only for a little while. That’s how she’d feel if she drank any of the good blood he had. Plus, she tended to get girly giddy. So not the way to get a new job.
“I really shouldn’t drink,” she said gently and took a seat in one of the brown leather chairs. Her eyes rounded as she sat on the plush cushion then slowly sank into it.
His powerful eyes held hers for several moments. She couldn’t look away. Something about his eyes, or maybe, what he was thinking behind those eyes, captivated her.
“Seeing as this is a unique occasion I say we both share one.” He grabbed another glass then started pouring a deep red, thick liquid into it. If her stomach could growl, it would have.
“No, really that’s not necessary, Mr. Blackmoore.”
“Please, call me Dom.”
Her eyebrows rose, then he stood before her holding out a lowball glass with the letter “B” carved into the side. She took it. Instantly the scent of ripe, delicious blood mixed with dark wine filled her nostrils. She breathed it in and would have rolled her eyes back and sighed if not for the man in front of her.
She’d been right on the drink count. This wasn’t the good stuff—this was the fine stuff. Sure you could mix your own concoction of cheap red wine bought at the grocery store with your cheap blood bought from the blood bank, but it didn’t smell like this and Felicity would bet it didn’t taste nearly as good either.
Still she didn’t drink it as he took the seat across from her. His eyes never left hers. It was entirely unsettling the way he watched her. Was this some kind of interview tactic? Maybe he wanted to intimidate her to see what kind of stern stuff she was made of.
Well, she was made of stern stuff indeed.
With a small smile she leaned back into the buttery soft leather chair and held her glass on her leg as he did. His eyes flicked to the drink then back to her face. Just the corner of his mouth quirked up.
“Try it. You’ll like it.”
He said it as if he already knew that. This would be impossible seeing as she’d never tried the drink and just because it smelled good didn’t always mean it tasted as good.
“And how do you know that, Mr. Blackmoore?” She lifted the glass to her nose and inhaled the sweet fragrance of plump red grapes, woods, and the coppery hint of blood. Her tongue turned brittle in her mouth. Her hand started trembling as she set the glass back against her thigh.
The quirk of his lip lifted higher. It was the confident look of a man who had no doubts. “Why don’t you try it and let me know if I’m right or not.”
He lifted his glass and took a sip, not needing to sniff the unique fragrance he probably smelled all the time.
Then a devil wearing a skin-tight leather corset, fishnet stockings and black knee-high boots popped up on her shoulder. It looked quite like Felicity with her wavy blonde hair but this little devil had smoky, heavily kohled eyes, dark ruby lips, and flushed bronzed cheeks. She was a much sexier, much crazier Felicity that she didn’t get to let come out and play much anymore.
Just drink some. You might not get this job but you’ll never get another chance to drink something so good , the devil said.
Felicity waited a tick to see if Felicity Angel would
Similar Books
A Dose of Murder
Lori Avocato
Natalie Acres
Sex Retreat [Cowboy Sex 6]
Behind the Yellow Tape: On the Road With Some of America's Hardest Working Crime Scene Investigators
Jarrett Hallcox, Amy Welch
Revenge
David Pilling
The Night Watch
Sarah Waters
Revenge of the Geek
Piper Banks
Longarm and "Kid" Bodie (9781101622001)
Tabor Evans
Saved by the SEAL
Diana Gardin
Center Stage
Bernadette Marie