Another week rolling along and here it is Wednesday again. Time for #1lineWed and it’s **DARK** theme. Here’s an unedited snippet from NIGHT FIRE. Leigh has been awake for almost 24 hours. She walked out of her bathroom to find Smoke standing there. He feeds her, puts her to bed, and promises to leave. Yeah…right, as Leigh says! She hauls herself out of bed and goes to make sure he’s gone and her door is locked. And…action!
Leaning against the front door, I pulled the towel off my head and scrubbed at my hair. It was damp and would frizz but I was exhausted. That was my story and I’d stick to it. Why else would I have let an armed and dangerous man into my house without calling 9-1-1? Forget that he was sexy and steamrolled right over me. Ugh. I thumped my head against the door—and heard a deep, rumbling chuckle. What the—?
I whirled, jerked open the door and glared. But Smoke was twenty feet away, straddling his Harley, looking all smug. That was it. I’d officially been awake long enough to have aural hallucinations.
“Get some sleep, Leigh.”
“Go away, Smoke.”
“You sure that’s what you want me to do, darlin’?”
“Positive.” I was. Totally. The idea of curling up next to his hard body didn’t appeal at all. Not one tiny bit. Nuh-uh. Nope. He laughed and I realized I’d just let out a gusty and deeply feminine sigh of…something. Not desire. I didn’t even like this guy. Even if he could make a mean omelet. And had shaggy dark hair I wanted to comb my fingers through.
I blinked, realizing I’d been staring blankly. Yup, that smirk was still plastered on his face. I bet he’d ride off and go nail some helpless bimbo.
“Sorry to disappoint you, babe, but you’re the only female I intend to nail any time in the near future. But I want you well-rested and fully awake when I do. Now go inside, lock the door, and sleep. I have to get to work.”
Work? The guy worked? My brain was so fuzzy I wasn’t quite comprehending. Did bikers actually have jobs? Like they got up, punched a time clock, and worked forty-hour weeks? I mean, this guy was an outlaw biker. I might not be up on all the gang stuff but even I recognized that 1% patch he wore.
I blinked again. And discovered my vision was graying a bit at the edges. The next thing I knew, I’d been scooped up into Smoke’s arms and he was carrying me inside. Some inner feminine creature that had nothing to do with me plastered my nose against his neck and we—a demon succubus surely, and I—inhaled deeply. He smelled of leather and wind and just a hint of cherry, like expensive pipe tobacco…
I opened my eyes to darkness, my heart hammering, and my chest tight from holding my breath. I listened hard. Nothing. I didn’t remember getting into bed. I remembered…being in Smoke’s arms and breathing him in. Crud. I was alone in bed and a mental “service check” let me know that no hanky or panky had occurred while I’d been passed out.
Snagging my cell phone from the table beside my bed, I checked the time. 12:02. My curtains were shut tight. My eyes were still a little blurry so I looked at my phone again. AM. Wow. I’d been asleep for over eight hours. Well…almost twelve if I was being honest. And now my sleep schedule was all messed up. I needed to go back to sleep because I had regular duty in the morning, reporting at 7 AM. Yippee.
Yippee indeed. Poor Leigh. She is so screwed. 😆 And on that note, do any of you have dark words to share?