CHAPTER 13

“Kyrian, I hate to disturb you—” Amanda broke off as she opened the bedroom door and found the bed empty.

“Where is he?” Nick asked, moving into the room behind her.

“I don’t know, he was here a second ago.”

Cursing, Nick pulled his phone out, then stopped. “Dammit, he doesn’t have a phone with him.”

“Surely he wouldn’t leave.”

She started to go check the bathroom, but he stopped her with a “duh” stare.

“Surely he would.” He went to the window and they watched as Kyrian pulled Nick’s Jag out of the driveway.

*   *   *

Kyrian’s first stop was the doll shop. His intention was to find one of Desiderius’s flunkies and the last thing he needed was to be unarmed when he met him.

It was just after eight when he swung open the door and heard the little bell tinkle above his head. Liza came immediately from the back, her wrinkled face warm and friendly until she caught a look at the healing bruises on his face.

“General,” she said, her voice chiding. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Liza, thank you. I just came to pick up my order.”

She frowned. “I gave it to Nicky yesterday, didn’t he tell you?”

Kyrian cursed silently. It figured. The one time Nick had remembered to pick up something would be the one time Kyrian wanted him to wait.

Then, Kyrian heard a faint rustling sound in the back of the shop, behind the burgundy curtains. Kyrian felt a strange stirring. One he hadn’t felt in a long time.

No sooner had the chill gone down his spine than the curtains parted of their own accord. Cast in shadows, the figure emerging dominated the small shop. At six feet eight inches, and dressed all in black, he was a man who made all life-forms either quiver in fear or straighten in respect.

Or in Kyrian’s case, it made him glare.

A wide smile broke across Acheron’s roguish face. Though his black Ray-Ban Predator sunglasses obscured his eyes, he was still able to make women swoon when they saw him. Arrogant and tough, he took no prisoners and showed little mercy on anyone.

Acheron was a creature of many idiosyncrasies, the most peculiar one being his ever-changing hair color. He changed it so often, many of the Dark-Hunters made bets on what color he was going to dye it for the week. Tonight, he wore his long, dark green hair pulled back in an old-fashioned queue with one thin braid falling loose from the nape of his neck, over his chest.

“Acheron,” Kyrian greeted him irritably. “Come to check up on me?”

“Never, little brother. I’m here to sightsee. Can’t you tell?”

“Yeah. You look like a tourist. That dark green hair passes every time.”

Ash laughed at the sarcasm. “Well, I figured since Talon is protecting what’s her name … Tabitha? And you’re after Desi-do-wrong, the two of you could use a hand.”

“The last time I asked for a hand, Artemis sent me a disembodied one.”

Ash grinned. “You know that when dealing with the gods, you have to be specific. Besides, I have information.”

“You could have e-mailed it.”

Ash shrugged. “My presence here means nothing. You know I won’t interfere with you and Desiderius.”

Now, why didn’t he believe that?

Oh yeah, because Acheron Parthenopaeus had never minded his own business when it came to badass Daimons. “Seems I’ve heard that one before.”

“Fine,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly, “I’ll take my unwanted information and—”

“I’ve already heard what the Oracles said.”

“But you don’t know the rest of the story,” Liza interjected.

Acheron frowned at her.

“What story?” Kyrian asked.

Acheron took a piece of gum out of his coat pocket and unwrapped it. Meticulously. “You said you didn’t want to know.”

“Fine, I’ll go after him without it.”

As Kyrian reached the door, Ash’s voice stopped him. “Don’t you find it odd that Desiderius has powers beyond anything you’ve seen from a Daimon?”

“Oh,” Kyrian said, turning back to face him. “Let me think. Yeah.”

Liza sniggered until Acheron gave her a sideways glare. She straightened up, then burst out laughing. Excusing herself, she ran to the back of the store, and cackled.

Acheron watched her leave, then turned to face Kyrian. He sobered. “All right, here are the facts. It seems old Bacchus got horny one night and made out with an Apollite babe. Nine months later, she had Desiderius.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Acheron concurred as he picked up one of Liza’s dolls she had fashioned to look like Artemis. He frowned at the startling likeness, then set her back on her shelf. “The good news is old Daddy Bacchus couldn’t care less since he has bastards strung out all over history. The bad news is Desiderius was just a little ticked off that Daddykins doesn’t care about the twenty-seven-year time limit on his life. Since he’s half-god, he thought he should have a little longer life span than that. One, say, that reaches immortality.”

“So, he turned Daimon.”

Acheron nodded. “And with those added demigod powers, he is equal to us in speed, strength, and skills. And unlike us, he has no Code.”

“That explains a whole lot, doesn’t it? If you can’t get back at the gods themselves, then go after those who serve them.”

“Exactly. And we are prime Desi bait.”

“One question.”

“Answer.”

Kyrian ignored his sarcasm. “Why does it have to be a Dark-Hunter with a soul who defeats him?”

“Because that is the prophecy, and you know how prophecy works.”

“How do you know all this?”

Acheron looked back at the doll he’d picked up. “I talked to Artemis last night. It took a while, but I wormed it out of her.”

Kyrian considered that for a minute. Acheron had always been the goddess’s favorite Dark-Hunter. Her preference for Acheron had been a long-standing grudge in the hearts of many Dark-Hunters. But Kyrian didn’t mind. He was grateful for the Atlantean’s ability to find out information from Artemis and give it to them.

“You know,” he said to Acheron, “one day you’re going to have to explain to me this relationship the two of you have and why you’re the only Dark-Hunter who can be in a god’s presence and not get fried.”

“One day, I might. But it won’t be tonight.” Acheron handed him a retractable sword and a throwing dagger. “Now get your ass back to bed. You have a job to finish and you need your strength.”

Kyrian started away from him.

“Oh and Kyrian?”

He turned to face him.

“Don’t go home alone.”

“Excuse me?”

“Desiderius has your number. It’s no longer safe there.”

“I don’t give a damn if—”

“Listen to me, General,” Acheron said, his voice menacing. “No one here doubts your ability to make Desi the next menu item at the Road Kill Diner; however, you have other people to protect, including a headstrong Cajun who listens about as well as you do, and a sorceress with virtually untapped powers. So, for once, could you just do as I ask and not argue?”

Kyrian smiled tightly. “Just this once, so don’t get used to it.”

Acheron watched as Kyrian left the shop. No sooner had he gone than Liza came from the back.

“Why didn’t you tell him that you got his soul from Artemis?” she asked.

Ash slid his hand into his pocket where the medallion rested. “It’s not time yet, Liza.”

“How will you know when it’s time?”

“Trust me, I will.”

She nodded, and held the curtains open for him. “Now, speaking of people who should tend their wounds, you need to come back here and let me help you. Goodness, but I’ve never seen anyone with their back in worse shape than you. Why on earth you let anyone beat you like that is beyond me. And I know you had to let them. A Dark-Hunter with your powers would never take something like that unless he wanted to.”

Ash didn’t answer, but he knew the reason. Artemis never willingly let go of one of her Dark-Hunters. The price of their freedom was a high one.

He had agreed to sacrifice some of his flesh in order to gain Kyrian a chance to kill Desiderius.

Most of all, his torn and bruised back had bought the General a chance for happiness. It was a bloody ritual he willingly underwent every time a Dark-Hunter wanted his or her soul back.

A ritual none of them knew about.

What went on between him and Artemis was private. And he would always keep it that way.

*   *   *

Kyrian eased his way over to Bourbon Street where he’d found the punks before. The pain in his side was lessening, but still excruciating. It took him a full half hour before he found what he was looking for.

And the look on the punk’s face was priceless.

“Holy shit!”

Kyrian grabbed him before he could run. “Tell Desiderius we’re not finished.”

The kid nodded.

Kyrian released him and watched as he tore down the street at a dead run.

He knew the first rule of war was that a surprise attack virtually guaranteed a victory, and he had just blown his best surprise. Still, he refused to keep his advantage at the risk of Amanda or one of her family members being hurt. Desiderius wouldn’t go after them so long as he had a Dark-Hunter to contend with.

Limping, he returned to Nick’s car and finally headed back to the one thing that gave him peace.

*   *   *

“Where have you been?” Amanda asked as soon as Kyrian returned.

“I had something to do.”

Nick cursed. “You went to find Desiderius, didn’t you?” He cursed again. “You sent word to him that you were alive.”

Kyrian ignored him as he headed to the couch and sat down.

“Are you okay?” Amanda asked.

He nodded as he stretched out.

Nick glared at him. Rounding the sofa, he clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides. “Dammit, Kyrian, why would you—”

“Nick, lay off me. I’m not in the mood.”

Nick’s nostrils flared. “Fine, go and get yourself killed. What do I care anyway? I get the house, the cars, everything. So you go right ahead and tell him you’re wounded and half-dead. Tell you what, why don’t I just leave the door unlocked and invite him on in here?”

“Nick, you’re not helping,” Amanda said gently.

She saw the agony in Nick’s eyes. The filial affection he had for his Dark-Hunter. “You know what?” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t give a damn. ’Cause I don’t need anyone.” He pointed at Kyrian. “I don’t need you, your money, or a damn thing. I’ve never needed anyone but myself. So you go right on and die, ’cause I don’t care.”

Nick turned to leave.

Faster than she could blink, Kyrian was on his feet in front of Nick.

Nick glared at him. “Get out of my way.”

Kyrian’s face showed the patience of a father with a rebellious teen. “Nick, I’m not going to die on you.”

“Yeah, right. How many times do you think Streigar said that to Sharon before he was turned into an extra crispy fried Dark-Hunter?” Nick shrugged Kyrian’s hold off his arm and stormed out of the house.

A tic started in Kyrian’s jaw as he pulled his cell phone off his belt and dialed it.

“Acheron,” he said after a brief pause, “I have a renegade Squire who is no doubt headed out to the Quarter in a new anthracite Jag XKR convertible. Can you catch him before he does something stupid?”

His brow creased with worry, Kyrian met her eyes as he listened. “Yeah, thanks.”

He looked extremely peeved at something Acheron was saying. “Yes, O great lord and master, I’m resting.”

A shocked look came over his face. “How do you know I’m standing?”

After a brief pause, he snorted. “Bite me, Ash. Good luck with Nick.” He hung up the phone.

Even though she didn’t know exactly what Acheron had said, she caught the gist of it. “He’s right, you need to lie down.”

Kyrian’s black eyes flashed. “I don’t need to be coddled.”

“Fine, Nick. Want to tell me how you need nothing and no one too and then storm out of the house?”

Kyrian offered her a sheepish smile. “Now you know why I tolerate him. Two peas in a pod.”

Amanda laughed, even though her heart felt for both of them. “Let me guess, you were just like him at his age?”

“Actually, he’s a lot more tolerable than I was. Not quite as stubborn, either.”

Amanda stepped into his embrace and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

To her amazement, he allowed her to take him back to the guest room and put him back to bed.

As she undressed him, she saw his pink, healing wounds. Taking his arm in her hand, she touched the small nail holes. “I can’t believe you’re up so soon after what happened.”

He sighed. “You can’t keep a Dark-Hunter down for long.”

Amanda barely heard his words. As she touched the wounds, images flashed through her mind. She felt Kyrian’s rage, his pain. Then she saw a flash of the future. Of Kyrian spread out against a wall and at Desiderius’s mercy.

Of Kyrian dying.

Gasping, she let go and stepped back.

Kyrian frowned at her. “What is it?”

Amanda patted her chest as panic swirled through her. She fought her anxiety attack as hard as she could, but inside she was screaming over what she’d seen.

She couldn’t let him die. Not like that.

Forcing herself to calm down, she stared at Kyrian. “You have to let go of your past. So long as you hold on to it, Desiderius will be able to destroy you.”

He looked away. “I know.”

“What are you going to do? If you don’t stop remembering it, he’ll have you again.”

“I can handle it, Amanda.”

“Can you?” she asked, her throat tight as she saw him dying again. Oh, dear Lord, please not that. She couldn’t bear to lose him. The thought of going a single day without feeling his arms around her, hearing his voice …

His laughter.

It was unimaginable. The pain unbearable.

“I can control myself,” he insisted.

But she knew the truth. She had experienced his execution firsthand. Worse, she knew he had never dealt with it. Not really. He had only pushed it out of his mind.

All of a sudden, she had an idea how to purge it from him.

At least she hoped it would work.

“I’ll be right back.”

Kyrian watched her leave, his emotions churning. Better than anyone, he knew his weaknesses. All Desiderius had to do was spread his arms out and he was lost to panic. Lost to memories so painful that he was powerless against them.

He ran his hands over his eyes. There had to be some way to push it all out of his mind. Some way to face the Daimon with a clear head.

The minutes ticked by as he considered possible solutions.

Kyrian became aware of someone watching him.

He rolled over in the bed to see Amanda in the doorway holding a tray and dressed in a long, flowing white satin robe. A warm smile on her face, she entered the room and set the tray on the dresser.

Kyrian frowned.

She approached the bed gracefully, then bent one knee. It peeked out from the slit in the robe. Bracing her leg against the bed, she rolled him over, onto his back. Still he stared at her stockinged leg and the hint of a garter belt underneath the robe.

Her smile grew wider as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a long silk scarf.

Kyrian’s frown deepened as she wrapped it around his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to make it better.”

“Make what better?”

“The past.”

“Amanda,” he growled as she pulled his arm toward the bedpost. As soon as he realized she intended to tie it there, he jerked away from her. “No!”

She grabbed his arm and held it between her breasts. “Yes.”

Amanda watched the panic in his eyes. “No,” he reiterated firmly.

Licking her lips, she lifted his hand to her lips. Opening her mouth, she gently suckled the pad of his forefinger. “Please, Kyrian? I promise you won’t regret it.”

Desire coiled through his stomach as he watched her. Her tongue flicked across his skin, down between his fingers. Then, she scraped the inside of his wrist and forearm with her fingernails, raising chills the length of his body.

She led his hand from her lips, to the parting of the robe, then inside to her bare breast. “Pretty please?”

His breathing ragged, he closed his hand over her. It was all he could do to remember what she was asking him.

She was asking for his complete trust. Something he hadn’t been able to give to anyone in more than two thousand years.

Terrified of what had happened to him the last time he’d made that mistake, he met her gaze and felt his will crumble. Would she one day betray him?

Dare he take the chance?

This time when she guided his arm to the post, he ground his teeth, but didn’t move as she secured it to the carved wood. Still, his heart pounded.

Amanda knew she had just won a small victory. Smiling, she tied the scarf loosely. “You can get loose at any time,” she told him. “Just say the word and I will release you, but if you do, it will stop immediately.”

“What will stop?”

“You’ll see.”

Amanda took his other arm and tied a scarf to that wrist. Kyrian watched her, his breathing sharp and unsteady. To her amazement, he said nothing as she tied him down. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

He pulled against the scarves, his muscles rippling and bunching. “I don’t like this.” He moved to free himself.

Climbing up on his body, Amanda caught his wrists in her hands and held him there. She dipped her head down and touched his lips with hers.

Kyrian tensed as he felt her tongue darting along the seam of his lips, begging for entrance. Opening his mouth, he welcomed her inside. He moaned at the way she stroked his tongue with hers, at the taste of her.

Her mouth was as close to heaven as a soulless man was likely to ever come. Her rose scent invaded his head, making him dizzy and hot. Breathless. Time stood still as her hands stroked his chest and he felt her breasts pressing against him.

It wasn’t until he reached to hold her that he remembered she had him tied down.

Growling in frustration, he yanked at the silk.

At the sound of tearing fabric, Amanda pulled back from her scorching kiss. “Remember,” she said huskily, “if you get free, you’ll get nothing but a cold shower.”

He stopped moving instantly.

To his chagrin, Amanda pulled back from him.

She ran her hands slowly down her robe, over her breasts, until she reached the belt. Taking her time, she unknotted the belt and parted the robe to show him her bare breasts.

His body burned as she let the robe flutter to the ground at her feet.

To his delight, she wasn’t naked. She wore the dark blue garter belt he’d bought for her.

His mouth watered at the sight.

Slowly, seductively, she walked to the bed and climbed up his body again like a sensuous cat as her breasts trailed from his stomach to his chest. Kyrian hissed at the feel of her stretched out over him, of her breasts caressing him.

“How are we doing, General?”

He swallowed. “Fine.”

Smiling, she traced the line of his jaw with her lips and tongue.

“I’m better when you do that,” he whispered, his body on fire from her touch.

She pulled back with a laugh. “How about I make you blind with ecstasy, then?”

He strained against the ties. “It would appear I’m all yours, sweeting.”

How she wished that were true. Amanda left the bed and moved to the tray. As she picked up the warm honey, she remembered the boiling oil the Romans had used on Kyrian. Remembered the look on his face as they poured it over his skin, scalding him.

Her heart constricting, she moved back to where he lay at her mercy. She held the bottle over his chest and saw the shadow pass across his eyes as he too remembered.

Kyrian involuntarily cringed as the warm honey first touched his bare skin. But there was no scalding pain. No blisters forming or skin burning. It actually felt good.

Relaxing, he watched as Amanda drew small circles in the honey, smearing it around his nipples where she dragged her nails, sending chills over him, and then down to his stomach.

She set the honey aside, then slowly licked every bit of it from his skin. He writhed in blissful pleasure as she laved him. Her tongue delved into his navel, making him even harder for her.

She laughed low in her throat as she looked up at him from his lower abdomen. Then she moved up his chest with one long lick that culminated at his Adam’s apple. Hissing, he leaned his head back to give her greater access to his neck, and when she lightly bit his skin, chills shot through him.

“Amanda,” he breathed.

Smiling at him, she left the bed and grabbed a small bowl.

Amanda didn’t know where her boldness came from. Never had she behaved this way, but she wanted to save Kyrian at any cost. Besides, something strange was happening to her as she did this for him. It was as if some part of her were gaining its freedom.

Shaking the thought off, she dipped her fingers into the bowl of whipped cream, then brought them to his lips. She traced the outline of that poetic mouth with her thumb.

Kyrian licked the whipped cream from his lips as Amanda straddled his waist. Oh, the feel of her wetness on him. It drove him wild. And when she moved, grinding herself against his swollen shaft, he thought he would die from the pleasure of it.

“Let me feed you, Commander,” she whispered, then slowly she used her finger to feed him the whipped cream.

Kyrian swallowed as his emotions swirled. She was re-enacting Valerius’s cruelty. But there was no pain from her. Only an ecstasy he’d never known before.

Locking gazes with her, he offered her a tentative smile.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked.

“Because I care for you.”

“Why?”

“Because you are the most wonderful man I have ever known. Granted, you’re stubborn and infuriating, but you’re also kind, strong, and giving. And you make me feel so…”

He arched a brow.

Amanda sat back and eyed him. “Now what’s that supposed to mean?”

“What?” he asked innocently.

“That look.”

Kyrian frowned. “What look?” He tried to reach for her, then remembered his restraints. How odd that he could have forgotten them.

Amanda dipped her head down to kiss him.

Kyrian moaned at the feel of her lips on his, of her tongue darting in and out of his mouth, carrying with it the taste of whipped cream.

She pulled back. “Do you like that?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then you’re going to love this.”

He watched as she scooted down his body, then took the whipped cream and made him a loincloth with it. Her fingers grazed his erection as the cool cream coated him.

Kyrian moaned at the sensation that sent heat all over his body.

Amanda nudged his legs apart and stared down at her handiwork.

She locked gazes with him, then laid her body down at his feet and took his sac gently into her mouth.

He growled at the feel of her tongue licking the tenderest part of his body. Her mouth closed around him as her tongue swirled, licking and delving as she worked her way to the other side, where she sucked him in tenderly and rolled her tongue around him.

Kyrian clenched the ties on his hands as waves of pleasure racked him. Nothing had ever felt better than her mouth on him or her tongue darting over his skin.

When she was through licking the cream from his sac, she started on his shaft. Kyrian strained against the ties as she closed her mouth around him, all the while watching him watch her.

She dropped her head down to tease the tip of his shaft with her tongue. His breath caught as she swirled her tongue around the tip, then took his entire length into her mouth. His head swam from pleasure while her hand stroked him from underneath.

He hissed and jerked at how incredibly good she felt. Instinctively, he arched his back, sending himself deeper into her mouth. She didn’t protest.

Kyrian moaned as he felt the animal in him awaken. He craved her with blind obsession. “Amanda,” he said, his voice hoarse and ragged. “I want to taste you.”

She lapped at him, then raised her head to look at him. “Taste me how?”

His breathing intensified as she scaled his body.

She straddled his waist, braced her hands on his ribs, and looked down at him. “Tell me what you want to do to me,” she said, her cheeks blushing at her words.

As he looked at her, he felt her emotions. She was scared and unsure, but wanted to help him at any cost. Touched more deeply than he should be, Kyrian licked his lips. “I want to feel your breasts,” he said raggedly.

“Like this?” she asked as she cupped them for him.

The sight of her hands on herself, clutching her breasts, made him moan. “Yes,” he gasped. “And I want to taste them.”

Smiling at him, she held her breast to his parted lips.

Kyrian strained against the ties as he took her swollen nipple into his mouth and tasted her. Her blissful murmurs of pleasure filled his ears, spurring him on.

He pulled at the ties, shredding the fabric more.

She laughed evilly. “If you free yourself, Kyrian, then I get dressed and we stop. Is that what you want?”

He shook his head and relaxed his arms.

“Then what else do you want?”

“You.” The heartfelt word poured out of his lips before he could stop it.

“Me?” she asked, her face hopeful.

Unable to lead her on when he knew there was no future for them, he added, “I want to be inside you.”

He felt her pang of disappointment and it cut him deeply. “Amanda—”

“Shh,” she said, placing her hand over his lips. “I am all yours,” she whispered as she impaled herself on his swollen shaft.

Kyrian closed his eyes at the incredible feel of her wetness sliding down the length of him.

Amanda leaned forward and captured his lips with hers as she rode him hard and slow. She nuzzled his neck with her lips and felt his moan against her tongue as she quickened her strokes.

She could feel him writhing as she rotated her hips against him.

He leaned his head back and growled like a caged beast. He braced his feet against the mattress and pressed his hips up, driving himself even deeper into her.

When Amanda came, she screamed from the force of it.

She felt Kyrian go ramrod stiff.

“Don’t move,” he hissed.

She obeyed without question as he clenched his eyes shut and ground his teeth. His body trembled beneath hers and she saw more sweat beading on his forehead.

After a minute, he let out an elongated breath. He opened his eyes and stared at her. “Now can I get free?”

She nodded as she realized he still hadn’t come. He had fought it with all his strength.

Even though she understood why, a part of her was hurt to realize he didn’t trust her enough.

Stop that! she snapped at herself. What kind of selfish stupidity is that? He needs his powers.

Now more than ever.

Startling her, Kyrian easily ripped the fabric of the ties and freed his hands. Immediately, he gathered her into his arms and held her close. “Thank you, sweeting,” he said, kissing her softly.

She smiled at him. “My pleasure.”

He laughed at that and settled her down to lie by his side. He spooned up behind her and held her as if he were afraid to let go.

It wasn’t long before he fell asleep. His hot breath fell against her bare shoulder.

Amanda reveled in it and hoped that because of what she’d done tonight, he would survive his next confrontation with Desiderius.

*   *   *

Amanda came awake to the sound of the phone ringing. Pulling back from Kyrian, she realized they were lying entwined. Her face flamed as she recalled what she had done with him. Never had she been so unabashed and yet with him she didn’t mind.

Sliding out of his arms, she grabbed the phone in Esmeralda’s room. “Hello?”

It was Esmeralda. “Mandy, thank goodness you’re still there. My car broke down. I’m on the side of the road. Any chance you can come pick me up?”

“Sure.”

She jotted down the location, then took a quick shower and went back to the guest room to dress.

She leaned over Kyrian and kissed his cheek. As she pulled away, he grabbed her. “Where are you going?”

“To pick up Essie.”

“It’s not safe.”

“It’s broad daylight. I’m fine.”

She saw the reluctance in his eyes. “How long to sundown?”

“Hours still.”

“All right, but come right back.”

“Yes, sir, Commander, sir.”

“You’re not funny.”

She kissed him on the lips and left.

*   *   *

Kyrian woke up a short time later. Getting up, he saw his wounds were almost all gone.

He unwrapped the bloody bandages and tossed them into the small wastebasket by the door.

“Amanda?” he called at the door.

No one answered. He listened for sounds in the house and only silence greeted him.

She must not be back yet.

Grabbing his clothes, he went to the bathroom.

It didn’t take long to shower, shave, and change. Once clean, he made his way slowly back to the room. He paused at the door as he caught sight of Amanda. She was dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a black sweater that hugged those curves he loved to feast on.

Her hair down, she looked luscious.

He walked up behind her silently while she was examining the trash can.

Without speaking, he dipped his head down to nibble her neck. No sooner had he brushed her skin with his lips than he caught her scent.

This wasn’t Amanda.

It was Tabitha.