The Scientific Method: A Vampire Queen Novel (Vampire Queen Series Book 10) by Joey W. Hill Page B
Authors: Joey W. Hill
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scientist who ran his own facility, ready to present to his benefactors or direct a full lab staff as needed. He didn't really do casual.
Tonight he had. In a way that had her swallowing, hard.
He wore a pair of belted jeans and nothing else. The body she'd enjoyed touching for such a brief time in the bedroom was on mouthwatering display, the sculpted pectorals and tight abs, the shoulders just the right breadth. The jeans weren't tight, but they were worn enough to cling the right way to groin and ass. He was stretched out on a blanket on his side, head propped up on one hand, his body sprawled out like a lazy predator, an impression enhanced by the sharp focus of his eyes, covering her from head to toe.
"Put on the shoes, then come to me," he said.
She'd maneuvered on the four-inch stilettos well enough in the halls. Maybe better than well enough. That pendulum sway to her hips the unstable shoes required had been another thing Ja — those she passed — noticed.
Brian's eyes glinted, acknowledging the wisdom of her self-editorializing. Balancing herself precariously, she put on one shoe, then the other. The only way to walk across the few feet of grass in stilettos would be carefully, on her toes, a mincing gait that made her breasts quiver in a way she could tell he liked. He even pushed himself up on one straightened arm to get a better look. For her part, she couldn't take her eyes off his bare chest, the corded throat, his muscles layered and stretched over his abdomen, drawing the eyes to denim molded around his groin. He was aroused, evident by the sizeable strain in that area. She moistened her lips.
Right before she stumbled.
She'd never been good with the blasted things, even on solid surfaces. For the most part, Brian had always been fine with her wearing modest one- or two-inch heels for Council events or vampire formal occasions to save her embarrassment. As a result, this was the only pair of spiky heels she owned, purchased early in their relationship when she was learning what vampires liked to see their servants wear. When she first wore them, Brian hadn't seemed that intrigued, so she'd put them away.
She expected a face plant in the grass. Instead, she found herself caught against that solid chest, his arms around her as he steadied her, drew her back to an upright position that pressed her lace-clad breasts against his bare skin. He smiled down at her. "Kick them off."
She did. She was average height without them, but right now he felt so much taller.
"Next time I'll have you wear your canvas sneakers," he said. "That old ratty white pair you like so much."
"It wouldn't go so well with this outfit."
"I think it goes perfectly with you." He slid the light coat off her shoulders so she was in bra and panties alone. Then he bent and placed a kiss on her back, below her left shoulder blade.
Directly over her third mark.
The significant, tender and yet possessive gesture made every nerve ending in her body yearn toward that spot, her heart somersaulting. Every full servant bore a mark, a cross between a scar and a birthmark that appeared during the third marking. When he'd fully marked her all those years ago in the lab, her third mark had appeared on her back, positioned over her heart. It looked like an X, with the two top ends thickened.
The shape of the mark was dictated by forces beyond vampire understanding, usually an unmistakable meaning to it. She hadn't yet figured out what hers was, but just having his mark had always been meaningful enough to her.
He brushed his lips over it again. "Sweet servant," he murmured. "Down on the blanket. On your back."
As she complied, he stood over her, watching, and it stole her breath, his arousal prominent against the jeans, his unapologetic virility. It was a side of Brian very few ever saw. This version of it was new to her as well, but entirely welcome.
"I'm glad my servant approves." He gave her a faint smile tinged with sensual warmth,
Tonight he had. In a way that had her swallowing, hard.
He wore a pair of belted jeans and nothing else. The body she'd enjoyed touching for such a brief time in the bedroom was on mouthwatering display, the sculpted pectorals and tight abs, the shoulders just the right breadth. The jeans weren't tight, but they were worn enough to cling the right way to groin and ass. He was stretched out on a blanket on his side, head propped up on one hand, his body sprawled out like a lazy predator, an impression enhanced by the sharp focus of his eyes, covering her from head to toe.
"Put on the shoes, then come to me," he said.
She'd maneuvered on the four-inch stilettos well enough in the halls. Maybe better than well enough. That pendulum sway to her hips the unstable shoes required had been another thing Ja — those she passed — noticed.
Brian's eyes glinted, acknowledging the wisdom of her self-editorializing. Balancing herself precariously, she put on one shoe, then the other. The only way to walk across the few feet of grass in stilettos would be carefully, on her toes, a mincing gait that made her breasts quiver in a way she could tell he liked. He even pushed himself up on one straightened arm to get a better look. For her part, she couldn't take her eyes off his bare chest, the corded throat, his muscles layered and stretched over his abdomen, drawing the eyes to denim molded around his groin. He was aroused, evident by the sizeable strain in that area. She moistened her lips.
Right before she stumbled.
She'd never been good with the blasted things, even on solid surfaces. For the most part, Brian had always been fine with her wearing modest one- or two-inch heels for Council events or vampire formal occasions to save her embarrassment. As a result, this was the only pair of spiky heels she owned, purchased early in their relationship when she was learning what vampires liked to see their servants wear. When she first wore them, Brian hadn't seemed that intrigued, so she'd put them away.
She expected a face plant in the grass. Instead, she found herself caught against that solid chest, his arms around her as he steadied her, drew her back to an upright position that pressed her lace-clad breasts against his bare skin. He smiled down at her. "Kick them off."
She did. She was average height without them, but right now he felt so much taller.
"Next time I'll have you wear your canvas sneakers," he said. "That old ratty white pair you like so much."
"It wouldn't go so well with this outfit."
"I think it goes perfectly with you." He slid the light coat off her shoulders so she was in bra and panties alone. Then he bent and placed a kiss on her back, below her left shoulder blade.
Directly over her third mark.
The significant, tender and yet possessive gesture made every nerve ending in her body yearn toward that spot, her heart somersaulting. Every full servant bore a mark, a cross between a scar and a birthmark that appeared during the third marking. When he'd fully marked her all those years ago in the lab, her third mark had appeared on her back, positioned over her heart. It looked like an X, with the two top ends thickened.
The shape of the mark was dictated by forces beyond vampire understanding, usually an unmistakable meaning to it. She hadn't yet figured out what hers was, but just having his mark had always been meaningful enough to her.
He brushed his lips over it again. "Sweet servant," he murmured. "Down on the blanket. On your back."
As she complied, he stood over her, watching, and it stole her breath, his arousal prominent against the jeans, his unapologetic virility. It was a side of Brian very few ever saw. This version of it was new to her as well, but entirely welcome.
"I'm glad my servant approves." He gave her a faint smile tinged with sensual warmth,
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