Immortal Desire by Denise Tompkins Read Free Book Online Page A

“Nobody special.” The thump of his admission took up like a drumbeat in his chest, pounding hard enough to steal his breath.
    “Why don’t you hand her over? I’m a doctor. I’ll look her over, take her to the E.R. if necessary.” The guy held out his arms.
    Griff shifted Bailey closer to his chest. Her breathing had become irregular. “I don’t have time to discuss your Boy Scout badges and charity work. Out of the way. Now.”
    Shouldering his way through the door, he headed toward the elevator. Screw this. No way was she going to get behind the bar again. She’d just have to stay in the apartment until she finished her Change. This was such bullshit. No way could she die —
    “Griff.” Bailey’s voice, sultry and rich, loosened the tangle of his thoughts.
    “I’m taking you upstairs.” He still couldn’t bring himself to look down.
    “Good.”
    The relief in her voice soothed him. Why? Examining that little nugget of curiosity would have to wait. He hit the elevator button with his elbow. The doors slid open and he stepped inside.
    She turned her face into him and mumbled something against his chest.
    “Couldn’t understand you, Bailey.” The moist heat of her sigh spun him up all over again.
    “I need you.”
    Such a small admission, yet it frayed the edges of his composure as effectively as hemp cut by a dull razor. Need. He’d learned the bitter truth about the often capricious line that existed between want and need. Women wanted him. Always. No one needed him. Ever.
    From the moment he’d entered his Change, he had been a means to a very pleasurable end for his lovers. He was as much a conquest to them as they were a food source to him. They were temporary fixtures, nameless faces and one-night stands that left him cold. He gave them what they wanted and they left needing nothing else from him. He took from them what he needed. Without him, they would find other lovers. Without them, parasitic thing that he was, he would die.
    The years had hammered home the hard facts of his reality. He could rail against the injustice of a lonely life, but to what end? Nothing would change. That meant that whatever fantasies he might privately harbor involving Bailey, they were just that. Fantasy.
    “Griff.” Cool fingertips fluttered against the pulse in his neck. “Please.”
    That single appeal cracked the foundations of walls he’d long thought a permanent part of his makeup. He closed his eyes. Don’t let it be structurally irreparable.
    Then he silently uttered a plea of his own.
    Please.

Chapter Six
    The way Bailey’s stomach gently flipped said the elevator had stopped. Finally. Griff’s apartment lay on the other side of those doors. She willed them to open. He could end her pain once they were inside. Of course, death could too. Not going down that road.
    Refrigerated air hit her overheated skin. She sighed. Relief. “Feels good in here.”
    “You need it colder?”
    “Not right now.” A small moan rolled through her chest. “I can’t believe I danced on the bar. The bar , Griff.”
    “It’s the nature of what you are working to draw viable partners to you. The sex on the air can impair your judgment, make you a little...overenthusiastic.” His fingers twitched. “You were pretty amazing, though. I had no idea you knew how to move like that.”
    Heat suffused her cheeks. “Neither did I.”
    He carrier her through the apartment and settled her on the unmade bed, his deft fingers divesting her of her shorts. “Commando? Sexy.”
    Struggling to keep him in focus, she attempted a smile. “You’re a sucker for ass. That’s all.”
    The pained look that flashed across his face made no sense, but she was too far gone to dig into the man’s little mysteries. Her nipples ached. The wet heat of her sex burned. Muscles in her abs cramped and released in tiny, torturous contractions. Her legs scissored uncontrollably.
    “Two seconds, baby.” Clothes hit the floor with a soft thump.