The Bonded Series Book III
The choice was simple; leave the vampire out to fry. Ian Jefferson despises the species with every fiber of his being. Instead, he rescues the woman who attacked him, and brings her to safety. Ian knows he shouldn't be lusting over the strange leech, but is so close to going against all he believes to subdue the passionate urges Rachel has stirred since the moment they met.
Rachel Johnson cannot recall a single thing about her life. All she is sure of is she craves blood. She never expected her meal to fight back or be a werewolf. Experiencing confusing flashbacks, she needs to know if her memories are real or just delusions.
With the truth unravelling, and her life in danger, can Rachel keep her darkest secrets buried and still give into Ian, knowing she's not his bonded and will have to eventually give him up?
The stubborn woman returned, guns blazing. “And I told you, that is not happening.”
A careless hand flicked the air. “Right, I’m a menace to society. Bite me!”
Arms crossed, he clenched his jaw. “That’s what I’m afraid you’ll do to others.”
“Since we’re being honest here, why not tell me the real reason you’re afraid?”
As though caught red-handed, his body tensed. But he had nothing to hide. “What are you talking about?”
Her silent gaze locked with his. “You’re afraid you have the hots for a bloodsucker?”
The muscles in his cheeks hurt as he spared a mock grin. “Well, aren’t you a modest little leech.”
A raised brow and the perfect curve of her tilted chin met his mockery with confidence. “You’re covering the look of lust with detest, but it’s not working. I can smell you.” She sidestepped the coffee table and ambled toward him. Even in a tucked polo and denims, she sauntered forward as if in sheer lingerie. “You’re hot, you’re bothered, and you’re fighting it.” With each declaration, she stepped closer. His heart pounded louder in his ears.
Mere inches separated them now. She angled her neck. That sensual mouth a whisper from his. He lost himself, drowned in her hazel depths.
“You don’t know what’s more frustrating, the fact I’m a vampire, or that you want me.”
When did her arms snake his neck? She arched into him. The delicious contact stole his sensibility.
Warm, feminine curves met the hardness of his body. Ian hissed. A perfect match, male and female, both from two strong lines of species physically ransomed by an instinct as old as time…raw attraction. “Don’t flatter yourself, vampire. You’re not my type.” Dammit, his low, rumbling voice didn’t sound in the least convincing.
A gentle fingertip danced along his jawline. “The feeling’s mutual, Wolfy.” She stroked from his chin to the top of his chest. “Besides, who says we have to like each other?”
All reason escaped his mind as he brushed a thumb across her lip. He intended to kiss her. He had to. How could this perfect specimen of a woman be so close and he not kiss her? His mouth watered, gums tender. The slope of her neck drew his attention. Instinct screamed for him to sink his teeth into her skin, sample her rusty sweetness.