Even in France, she never got a really good taste of him, not like this. She was so focused on his mouth that she barely noticed him tug at the hem of her borrowed tee-shirt, pulling it free of her pants. His hands were molten where they spread across her back, caressing her skin with slow, langu...
The vampire was pacing an invisible line between the piano and Tristan. They’d been arguing. But if Ash had said anything important in the past few minutes Tristan hadn’t heard a single word of it. He was too busy being distracted by the not so subtle outfit she had chosen for herself this evenin...
Tristan mumbled around a mouthful of food, sprawled out at the kotatsu like he owned the place. While he was out searching for food, he discovered he was in Yurihonjō, a little seaside city about half an hour south of the airport and three times that to his apartment in Semboku. He’d never been h...
But what was said about those who hunted the wicked? Well, Tristan would tell you, the phrase was true for the good guys too. He rocked in and out of sleep for several, restless hours. He finally became so annoyed he decided to read his spoiled book again. Ash sat silent a...