Читать книгу Phoenix Burning - Patti O'Shea - Страница 7

Chapter One

The air in the apartment felt heavy, the pressure enough to keep her skin sensitized. Phoenix pressed her legs tightly together, trying to deny the arousal. Shaking her head to clear it, she forced herself to focus on the laptop screen. The cursor on the blank page flashed in time with the throb between her legs. Putting her fingers on the keyboard, she tried to find the zone, the place where there was nothing but her and the story. Instead of words, though, there was only heat and the need for release.

Desperate to distract herself, Phoenix searched for something, anything, to get her mind off sex. Her gaze landed on the sheet of paper that had been shoved under her door a day or two ago. A reminder from the apartment building’s management to pick up mail more often. It had been at least a week since she’d opened her box.

Phoenix grabbed her keys from the table as she got to her feet. She was halfway to her door before she stopped and checked what she was wearing—a pair of loose yoga pants that rode low on her hips and a black tank that left her midriff bare. Good enough.

She took the stairs two at a time, and as soon as she reached the bottom, headed left into the vestibule where the bank of metal mailboxes was built into the wall. She stopped short as soon as she saw him, but it wasn’t quickly enough. Less than a foot separated her from the guy and Phoenix had no desire to move.

His back was to her, his head bent as he sorted through his mail, but he didn’t need to turn for her to identify him. There was only one man in this apartment complex whose mere presence left her buzzing with desire. Her next-door neighbor.

She took the opportunity to gawk at him while he was oblivious to her presence. His brown hair was cut short, leaving his nape exposed and Phoenix curled her fingers to stop herself from tracing that bare skin. His navy T-shirt was pulled taut across his broad shoulders and his jeans were faded enough to mold his gorgeous ass. The urge to caress him had her taking a step closer before she stopped herself. It had been drilled into her head not to touch without an invitation and telling herself he wouldn’t mind wasn’t the same thing as consent.

Without warning, he straightened, and before she could move aside, he pivoted and walked into her. Phoenix staggered, not only from the impact, but also from the feel of his hard muscled body pressing against hers. The mail hit the floor and his arms went around her, helping her keep her physical balance, but knocking her control askew. Her nipples peaked and she shimmied, rubbing her breasts against his chest.

His grip tightened, stilling her. There was heat in his eyes, but there was reserve as well, and though he appeared reluctant, he put her away from him and stepped back. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I didn’t hear you come up behind me.”

Phoenix had to clear her throat in order to speak. “Not a problem,” she assured him. She thought about apologizing herself, but didn’t. What would she say? Sorry, I was so busy trying not to run my hand over your ass that I didn’t realize you were done looking at your mail?

He nodded once and crouched down to retrieve his mail. Phoenix found her gaze zeroing in on his butt again, and shaking her head, leaned over to help him before she forgot about all the rules she’d been raised to follow.

There were a couple of letters against the opposite wall and she scooped them up. A paper electric bill? Unable to contain her curiosity, she checked the addressee. Ivar LeBlanc. Unusual name. He held out his hand and she passed the bill and the junk mail over to him.

“Thanks,” he said and strolled out of the vestibule, leaving her standing there.

Phoenix sighed and tried to convince herself it was a good thing that he wasn’t interested in hanging around with her.

She was still trying to persuade herself of this right up until the minute she stripped out of her clothes and stepped into the shower. Warm water sluiced over her body and Phoenix shivered as her nipples tautened further. The water teased her, caressed her and aroused her, negating the two orgasms she’d already given herself since returning to her apartment.

Reaching for the lever, she swung it as far to the cold side as she could stand, but instead of calming her hormones, the sensation of cool water on hot skin made her writhe. Damn.

After a few minutes, she gave up. Reaching for the knob again, she adjusted the temperature to something bearable, and grabbed the soap. As soon as her finger was coated, she slipped her hand between her legs and brushed her clit. Just that light touch raised a gasp and made her eyes slide half shut as she fell into the sensation. With her other hand she rolled a nipple between her fingers. In her mind’s eye, she could see him—Ivar—in the shower with her, the water making his brown hair even darker. She rubbed a little faster, imagining it was his hand between her legs, his hand on her breast.

He was tall enough to make her feel petite and his wide shoulders amplified that perception. It was so easy to imagine blue eyes—laser-blue—filled with heat, holding her gaze, refusing to let her look away or deny what he did to her. Phoenix needed his mouth on her, wanted to feel his facial hair tease her skin. It wasn’t a beard, not quite, but it was fuller than a goatee. It didn’t matter. On him, it was so damn hot, she began to cream every time she saw him.

Her finger circled with greater urgency, orgasm bearing down on her fast. His cock would be hard, and with one, smooth stroke, he’d push deep, and fuck her until she was weak from the number of times she’d come. And it wouldn’t matter, she’d need him again. The fantasy was so strong, she could nearly feel him moving inside her. It sent her over the edge. Her head fell back and she arched her hips, pressing more firmly into her hand. A sound that was part moan, part wail escaped and Phoenix bit her lip, trying to contain any other noises she might make.

When she regained full awareness, she was leaning against the fiberglass wall of the tub enclosure, almost limp from the strength of the pleasure. It wasn’t enough. Her nipples remained hard and her pussy ached, craving cock. Craving his cock.

And she couldn’t have him.

With a curse, Phoenix forced herself to finish showering. This was it; she couldn’t ignore it any longer—she’d reached full Awakening. It explained why self-induced orgasms weren’t dousing the fire any longer. For weeks she’d used masturbation to tide her over, to resist her instincts, but it satisfied for shorter and shorter periods. Hell, there were days it felt as if she’d spent more time playing with her vibrator than she had working with her computer.

Phoenix hissed as she ran the washcloth over her stomach and between her legs. She wanted to get off again, wanted it bad, and it wouldn’t make a difference. Nothing except having sex would help now.

Thoughts of her new neighbor snuck into her brain and she grimaced. No matter how much she desired him, Ivar was off-limits.

Phoenix might not be sure what he was, but she did know he wasn’t human. If he was a demon, feeding from him could kill her and if he was a wizard, there’d be retribution after the fact. Wizards always got even if they felt wronged and she didn’t have the power yet to deal with them or their magic.

But even if he was an ordinary person, she wouldn’t be able to have him. She’d been taught that when she came of age she had to be careful. Among other things, that meant not feeding too close to home, and the man who lived in the apartment next to hers definitely fell into that category.

Grabbing the towel as she stepped from the tub, Phoenix dried off, trying to ignore the way the terrycloth teased her skin. Even the warm air from the blow dryer made her scalp tingle and that shot heat through her.

After her hair was dry, Phoenix stared into the mirror. Her eyes were dilated, leaving nothing but a small ring of her irises visible, and her lips were parted, her breathing quick and shallow. She reached for the perfumed lotion. Putting it on would test her willpower, but the scent was part of the lure. She warmed the cream between the palms of her hands and began to rub it into her skin. It was no surprise that moisture pooled between her thighs.

Awakening. She thought she’d known what to expect, but this was nothing like what she’d been told would happen. It was supposed to take around a year to transition from Stirring to this point, but she’d done it in weeks. How?

Phoenix shrugged. She’d think about it later; the whys were beyond her right now. It shouldn’t be possible, but the fire burning inside had grown unquenchable and that told the story.

With the towel wrapped around her, she put on makeup, creating a dramatic look much different than her usual style. Powdered, perfumed and primed, Phoenix left the bathroom and opened her closet door.

Over the past month, she’d shopped, adding clothes that showed off her body and that were a far cry from the casual choices she’d made in the past. Her hands shook so hard she had trouble stepping into the thong panties. No nylons—she didn’t want them getting in her way. The skirt came next. It was a respectable coffee color with a subtle paisley pattern, but it was so short and tight that there was nothing modest about it.

She picked brown ankle boots with a quarter-inch heel. As Phoenix bent to tug them on, the air conditioner kicked on and a cool breeze danced over her bare breasts. Her pussy pulsed, driving her to move faster.

The arousal receded a shade as she started to pull on a bronze-colored tank top and that allowed her to think. It was as tight as her skirt, and the outfit edged outside her comfort zone. Considering what she planned to do, it was a stupid worry, but she tossed the tank on her bed and grabbed a beige sweater instead. It had three-quarter sleeves and was cropped short, but it fit her loosely and appeased her modesty.

This whole Awakening thing, well, it was scary. It didn’t matter that she’d heard about it her whole life, that she’d been warned and prepared and educated on what to expect. Once she left her apartment, everything would change. Radically. Only a fool wouldn’t be anxious.

Phoenix walked to the door, locked it behind her and slid the key into a pocket of her skirt. Along with the nerves, though, was anticipation. Excitement. She couldn’t deny the spring in her step as she went down the stairs and out onto the street.

When she came home, she wouldn’t be a nestling any longer, but a full-fledged adult vampire.