Fueling His Hunger (Masters of Adrenaline 2)

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“I think they’re fucking in the living room, and I’m hungry.”

“So take the other way to the kitchen.”

“Maybe I’ll rent a suite at Fitte until you come home,” Atlas mused. Having friends who owned a hotel/tattoo shop/club had its advantages. “Do you think they’ll settle down once they’re married?”

“Nope.”

“Yeah,” Atlas said dejectedly. “I don’t think so either.”

***

They faced each other over the diner booth’s peeling yellow table, squinting at their menus. Luke felt like he needed to use the forks to prop his eyelids open, but hoped several mugs of coffee would be enough to help him stay awake. When they got to Glacier they’d need to take a nap or call it an early night. Well, he’d have to. Ophelia had been sleeping for the morning’s two-hour drive, and was just as adorable awake and groggy as she had been curled up and asleep.

She’d been quietly eating her eggs and toast and he had a hard time focusing on his own breakfast because of her sexy mouth. At some point during the morning drive she’d mewled in her sleep, her lips parting slightly, and he’d been subjected to a very detailed fantasy of her sucking his cock. She’d told him she didn’t really know how, and now he was fascinated by the idea of coaching her through it.

“What?” Her full lips curved in a wry smile. “Why are you staring at me?”

“I just got distracted by your mouth.”

Her eyes widened and she coughed, turning bright scarlet as t

he diner’s owner refilled their coffee mugs. The man gave them a friendly nod and withdrew just as Ophelia kicked Luke’s shin under the table.

“What?”

“He heard you!” she hissed, giggling. Maybe she’d deny that it was an actual giggle, but it sounded suspiciously gigglish.

“Watch yourself in the mirror sometime, and tell me you can blame me.”

She snorted. “You’re crazy.”

They ate in silence for a while, with Luke stealing glances at her. She cut her food into tiny pieces and put them into her mouth with a primness that came from being raised in a very formal household. She’d even unfolded her paper napkin and laid it in her lap. Compared to her, he felt like a barbarian.

Especially when he thought about the things he’d done to her last night.

Despite her manners, she did manage to work her way through a large portion of her plate. Hopefully, she’d need energy for later.

“So how far are we?” she asked.

“Under three hours. We’ll get there good and early. Are we camping tonight, or staying at a hotel?”

“Hotel. For some strange reason I feel like I need a hot shower.”

“I can’t imagine why,” he said, his tone bland. “Maybe it was all the fresh air.”

“Yes, the fresh air.” She narrowed her eyes. “Not your fault at all.”

“I’m glad we agree.” He winked and she rolled her eyes. “If we don’t have a tent to set up, I guess we could take a side trip somewhere.”

She grinned and then yanked a pamphlet out of her bag, as though she’d been hoping he’d say that. “I grabbed this on the way in.”

The pamphlet, with its blob of a logo, was photocopied crooked and had obviously been hand-folded in a hurry.

“Mitchell’s Museum of Alien Contact,” she said, poking the place’s name with one finger. “It’s only about a half hour from here. Can we go?”