Total pages in book: 165
Estimated words: 159487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
She had done that during hot flashes before, especially the awful ones that woke her up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat and wanting to tear the sheets off the bed. But this wasn’t like a normal hot flash. Her skin was hot, yes, but the heat was concentrated low in her belly and between her legs. It made her feel restless and empty and raw.
Like she wanted to crawl out of her own skin…but what did she need?
She thought of Ravik’s heat—his sheer sized and impossible girth. Thought of Severin’s cool, sharp scent—his elegant, talented hands and sharp fangs. Thought of all the things she had absolutely no business craving while she had a zombie virus in her bloodstream.
The thought made her go still.
The Hunger Virus…it was inside her. Severin had said her blood was fighting it, but what did that really mean?
A chill slid down her spine despite the hot water.
What if this wasn’t just desire? What if it wasn’t just perimenopause or finally being wanted by two males after years of bad sex and two terrible marriages? What if the virus was doing something to her?
It didn’t make her want to eat anyone, thank God. She didn’t look at Severin or Ravik and think, Mmm, tasty forearm or Wish I could get a bite of that thigh!
She wasn’t craving flesh or blood or whatever horrible thing the Infected craved when they went howling through the Dead Zone with white eyes and snapping teeth.
But she was craving something.
Sex…seed…touch.
The words made her cheeks burn hotter than the shower because yes, they were all exactly what she was craving and her body refused to stop.
“Perfect—just perfect,” she muttered. “Of course I don’t get the normal zombie symptoms. I get horny zombie symptoms. Because why wouldn’t I?”
The sarcasm helped for about three seconds…then the fear came back.
Because funny or not, something was wrong. She knew it now. She could feel it in the way her body pulsed and ached, in the way her mind kept circling back to Ravik’s mouth and Severin’s hands…in the way she wanted to go to them instead of away from them, even after what had just happened with the big Beast Kindred.
Cassie had always liked spicy books and private fantasies, but she had never felt like this—as though her body was a live wire and every thought of the two Kindred sent sparks racing through her blood.
Maybe Severin was right. Maybe there was something unique about the way the virus was moving through her system. Maybe swallowing Ravik’s seed had triggered some kind of reaction. Maybe her body was trying to fight the infection by demanding more of whatever had helped it in the first place.
Which sounded like exactly the kind of scientific excuse Severin would come up with…except it might actually be true.
Cassie shut off the water. She’d been in the shower long enough—she couldn’t hide from her problems anymore.
The sudden silence felt loud. For a moment she just stood there, dripping and breathing, trying to decide if she was being ridiculous.
Maybe she should keep this to herself. Maybe she should get dressed, pretend everything was fine, and not tell the gorgeous Blood Kindred scientist that her body was acting like it wanted to climb both him and his best friend like a pair of very large, very muscular trees.
But no, that would be stupid, she decided—maybe even dangerous.
If this was the Hunger Virus changing inside her, Severin needed to know. He needed samples, test results, observations—all the annoying science things that made her want to roll her eyes. And if there was a cure, or even a way to slow the reaction down, he was the one who could find it.
Even though explaining her symptoms was going to be mortifying, she needed to tell him.
Cassie grabbed a towel from the warming rack and began drying herself off. The fabric was rougher than she expected and when it scraped over her nipples, she gasped. Pleasure shot through her so sharply that her knees almost weakened.
“Oh, come on,” she whispered, glaring down at her own breasts as though they had personally betrayed her.
Her nipples were tight and swollen—darker than usual against the fullness of her breasts. The towel brushed them again and another little jolt went through her, hot and humiliating and undeniably good. She had to dry herself with ridiculous care after that, patting instead of rubbing, because apparently her body had decided that even basic hygiene was foreplay now.
Wonderful…just wonderful.
By the time Cassie was dry, her cheeks were flushed and her nerves felt scraped raw. She found the red nighty hanging from a hook and stared at it with loathing.
“I hate you,” she told it.
The nighty did not answer, because it was a piece of clothing and also because it knew it had already won.