Though he wanted to clean himself, Kaj couldn’t muster the energy to do anything more. So he allowed his eyelids to lower, her beautiful face the last thing he saw before he gave in to the darkness.
Chapter Four
Just call him Mirakel Glutton for Punishment. No last name, of course. He hadn’t been born into royalty; therefore, he was merely known by a first name … and now his newest trait. Sounded better than Mirakel the Idiot, anyway.
He was certainly living up to it in a profound manner.
Proof was in the fact he continued to seek out Briony rather than find another female to feed from. It would’ve made more sense to find one of his own kind. A quick trip into town would be all that was necessary for him to locate a sufficient blood source to quench the hunger that had intensified over the past couple of days. He’d purposely put it off for as long as he could but refused to let it go too far. Nearly dying had been more than enough to remind him that biology wasn’t something he could reject simply because he wanted to.
Now, as he strolled down the second-floor hallway of Angel Central, it took effort to put one foot in front of the other and at the same time to keep his legs from taking up a sprint. No doubt he was conflicted when it came to the particular Fae he was going to see. He wanted her, but he didn’t want to want her. Made no damn sense whatsoever.
He paused at the door, lifted his hand to knock—
“Come in,” the female called from the other side of the door.
Drawing in a deep breath, Mirakel turned the knob and stepped into the second-floor laundry suite. The place could’ve been a bedroom, as luxurious as it was. Twenty-five-by-twenty, creamy-taupe walls, LEDs recessed overhead, three washers and three dryers (also taupe) ran the length of one wall, and the opposite wall had dark brown shelving used to store blankets, sheets, towels, and God only knew what else. A couple of tables for folding and sorting stood at the far end of the room, and down the center of the space was a cushioned bench, you know, in case you got tired doing laundry.
Turned out, it was the perfect place when seeking a bit of privacy without having to deal with the intimacy of one of their bedchambers. Mirakel had learned his lesson, thank you very much. Having witnessed the female orgasm while she was feeding from him had been more than his feeble brain could handle. Hell, he’d dreamt about that very incident every night since, even saw it clearly when he closed his eyes.
Hence the reason he’d suggested this place. It was his way of ensuring they didn’t get in over their heads. Of course, all these flat surfaces were as much a temptation as a bed, but Mirakel was choosing to pretend otherwise.
“M’lord.” It was a pleasant greeting, one made without eye contact.
Rather than say her name, Mirakel grunted, proving his manners were lacking.
He closed the door and flipped the lock, ensuring no one would enter until he was ready for them to. If all went well, he’d be out of there in thirty minutes tops.
Exhaling heavily, he took a seat near Briony, but far enough to ensure there wasn’t any unnecessary touching. As it was, he could smell her—a soft, sweet scent that went right to his head. Strawberries, he thought. She smelled like strawberries.
Fucking hell.
He probably should’ve started with some pleasantries.Hey, how are you?orHow’ve you been since I last saw you?or maybeYou’re looking pretty today.
He said none of those things because his tongue got all twisted up when he was around her. Mirakel had no idea what he was drawn to, either. She was lovely, of course. More so than any female he’d ever seen, but he’d never been the sort to gauge his conquests by the exterior dressing. It was what was inside that mattered.
Then again, Briony was equally lovely on the inside.
Fuuuuck.
Without thinking, he shot to his feet and marched past her, beyond the last washing machine.
“I don’t think I can do this,” he grumbled, eyes locked on his boots to ensure he didn’t look directly at her.
“I understand.”
“Trust me, you don’t.”
“Is there something I can do to make this easier for you?” she offered, her voice so kind it made his heart pinch.
“Find me someone else,” he muttered.
“Oh.”
Yep, that was actually hurt he heard in her voice. And now he had offended her.
“I … uh… That can certainly be arranged, m’lord.”
Unable to help himself, he did lift his eyes to her. Today she was wearing a pale pink gown made of silk that clung to all of her delectable curves and pooled at her feet. While some of the Fae, mainly the males, dressed in modern trends, Mirakel had noticed a few of the females still opted for clothing that seemed better suited for a different time period. These gowns Briony preferred were not of this century, he didn’t think, and probably not the last, either. And while they weren’t short and skimpy, they revealed every beautiful curve of her body as though she was wearing absolutely nothing at all.
