Page 9 of The Last Sacrifice
Her delicate features forcing themselves into a mixture of contempt and scarcely hidden fear. Her chin lifting as she stared at him.
Putting the bag of clothes down on the floor. His hands scooping up her shorts, shirt and god help him. Her wet underwear.
“Wh ... what are you doing?”
“New clothes, get dressed,”
She had the smoothest legs he had ever seen. His palm itching to run up and over her skin.
Scowling at her, his fist clenching tight before he pulled the door closed behind him. Stalking over to the table, he tossed her clothes into the bin.
“Bikes fueled and ready?” picking up his burger, he bit into it, glaring at his enforcer.
Nodding, Thorn picked his own burger up.
“Get the girl on the bike and we can leave whenever you want,”
“Good,”
They had spent too much time already. Talia had led them on quite the dance, crossing five states in three weeks.
They hadn’t taken the time to announce themselves as visitors in the states they crossed into on their hunt. And while most vampires acknowledged Draven as king, more than one territory or Pack had suffered at the order of the vampire king. Most of the time, it was his Titans that represented the king. Doing his the dirty work. Wearing his hatred.
This far from home, without the king’s diplomacy backing them, it was a golden opportunity for those hungry for vengeance to take the chance.
So far from the citadel, without the vigor of his Pack behind him, many would perceive him as less strong, defenseless. Just the idea excited him. Normally, he would have relished such a challenge. But his master’s impatience beat at him every night. Demanding his return and his prize.
He hid his grimace as the bathroom door opened. Hyde sucked in a quick breath.
Thorn gave a low whistle. “Damn, you can ride my ... bike anytime.” Shooting his enforcer a hard look, Hyde scowled.
He thought she looked good in simple denim shorts. It was nothing on how she looked clad in leather.
The black leather vest, pushing her breasts up together, accenting a more than generous cleavage.
Letting his eyes drift down over her bare midriff. The dark red leather pants hugging her hips. The flash of skin under the crisscrossing pattern that ran down the sides of each pant leg, giving a tantalizing glimpse of flesh. His gaze kept moving over her, down her long legs till they reached the bare toes. The cotton candy pink nail polish, a stark reminder of the innocence of what lay underneath the biker leathers.
Fuck, he was in trouble.