Rhyannon Byrd - Edge of Hunger

She struggled to ignore the surge of lust that poured through her, thick and warm in her veins, but it wasn’t easy. Not with him prowling around, wearing nothing more than those barely buttoned faded Levi’s. She could see the dark silky trail of hair slipping down into the shadowed V of his open fly, and a wave of hunger rolled through her so sharp and sweet and strong that she went light-headed, forced to lean her upper body against the table for support.

The corner of his mouth twitched—such a slight fraction of movement, she knew she would have missed it if she hadn’t been staring so intently.

Crap . He knew.

This was bad. She was already in over her head, and getting deeper with every moment she spent up on this damn mountain. But she owed it to Elaina. Dammit, she owed it to herself. She wasn’t going to screw up. Not this time around. She had a chance for redemption, to make a difference, and she was going to grab hold of it, even if it killed her.

Which seems a likely possibility , her conscience muttered.

He moved toward her, stalking closer until he stood in front of her knees, his feet braced outside of her own, staring down at her. Leaning forward, he braced his right hand on the table at her side, caging her in. “I can still taste your blood in my mouth,” he rasped, his gaze flicking over her face, lingering on the swell of her lower lip. “This kind of shit isn’t normal.”

“Not for most people, no. But you’re not like others, Ian. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. It’s why I used up my entire savings to buy a plane ticket and come here.”

“I’m a contractor, for God’s sake. Not a fucking vampire.” Impatience cut itself into his features, the shadow of bristle on his cheeks accentuating the hollows of his expression.

She shook her head, craning her neck as she stared up at him. “I never said you were a vampire.”

“Then why did I…” He jerked his chin toward her throat.

“I only know what I’ve been told. According to Elaina—”

“Christ,” he grunted, lifting away from her. “I don’t want to hear any more bullshit about what my dead mother has told you.”

Breathlessly, she said, “I’m telling you the truth. I swear it.”

“Yeah, then explain—”

“I don’t—”

“—how I’m able to wake up in my bed with the taste of your goddamn blood in my mouth!” he roared.

“But I—”

“And this time, don’t lie about it! I want to know how it happened, Molly!”

She slammed her left hand down on the table, tired of him yelling at her…of not knowing how to make him listen. “I don’t know how it happened! I swear. I’ve never dreamed about you before. I’ve never had anything like this happen to me before—sharing a dream with someone that is somehow, in some way, actually happening. All I know is what Elaina has told me, and I’ve been trying to tell you, but you won’t listen! She led me to you, told me where to find you. Wanted me to warn you that you’re in danger—that you’re being hunted.”

“It’s the nightmares,” he growled, his gorgeous, arrogant face set in a hard, obstinate expression that made her want to scream with frustration. “You’ve done something to me.”

“No, that’s not true. Think, Ian. You’ve been having nightmares for weeks now, and we only just met. I swear, I have nothing to do with them. The darkness… this all has to do with what’s hiding within you. You know that. I know you do. Elaina’s been telling you stories about the Merrick since you were a little boy.”

He stumbled back another step, eyes bleeding to black, and shoved his hands into his hair. Locking his fingers behind his head, he glared up at the ceiling with his jaw clenched so hard it looked painful. Molly stared at the dark tufts of hair under his arms, the stark lines of his throat, wanting so badly to reach out and touch him. To place her hand over the center of his chest and feel his heart pounding against her palm, vital and urgent and strong.

“Ian, I know you don’t want to believe me, but after what’s happened, how can you still think I’m here to con you? This thing is real. I have the bite marks on my neck to prove it. We need to help each other figure it out, because I can guarantee you this is more than I signed up for. Elaina told me how to find you, wanted me to talk to you. To tell you things that she’s afraid no one else will. But she didn’t say a damn thing about…about whatever the hell it was that happened tonight. She told me this thing inside of you needs to feed for power, but she didn’t say…”

Her voice trailed off, and he lowered his gaze back to her, muttering, “That it would feed off you? That it would take your blood?”

“Yes.” She swallowed nervously, folding her arms across her chest, resisting the urge to lift her fingertips and touch the tingling warmth of the bite on her throat, the tender flesh slowly throbbing with residual pulses of pleasure.

His eyes narrowed, studying her with fierce intensity, and then he rasped, “Son of a bitch. You actually liked it, didn’t you?”

“What?” She blinked, floundering for the right thing to say.

“Face it, Molly. Any other woman would have run screaming in the other direction by now. Would have hauled her ass out of Henning the second she woke up and found her throat bleeding. But look at you, coming here, wanting to talk. To help me. What is it with you?” He stalked toward her again, his body closing off any escape route. “You got a death wish? Or do you just get off on the hard stuff?”

Towering over her, his callused hand slipped under the fall of her hair again, his rough fingertip smoothing over one of the two puncture wounds, and she gasped at the insane rush of sensation that curled through her center, settling heavily between her thighs. Her sex heated…swelled, feeling heavy and empty all at once, and his nostrils flared, those dark eyes cutting to her own confused stare, and she knew he could smell the need. That dark, uncontrollable ache twisting deep inside, clawing at her, making her crave. Making her need things that she didn’t even understand. That she feared.

“What’s your answer, Molly?”

Shakily, she said, “Be crude if it helps you deal. I have a thick enough skin by now to take it. You may piss me off, but it’s not going to scare me away. I’m not going to run.”

“And you’re not going to give me any answers, either, are you?”

Her eyes slid closed, tears threatening to spill from the excess emotion crashing through her system. “I wish I could explain how the dream happened, Ian. But I can’t.”

He sighed, the heat of his body covering her like a glittering ray of sunshine. “Okay, I’ll bite,” he drawled in a deep, graveled voice, and she could feel the press of his eyes on her face, watching her. “It’s not like your story won’t be entertaining as hell. So let’s hear it. What can you tell me?”

With a deep breath, Molly lifted her lashes. “I can tell you about Elaina. I can tell you what she’s told me.”

“In your dreams, right?” he murmured, his gaze settling heavily on her mouth, making her lips tingle.

“That’s how she talks to me, yes. Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know. It’s just the way that it’s been since I was a teenager.”