Blood Knight: Vampire Slayer: A Harem Urban Fantasy Adventure by Edie Skye

Author:Edie Skye [Skye, Edie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Spice Rack Press
Published: 2024-03-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Clarke didn’t get much sleep that night, and he suspected the police would have received noise complaints if not for the cabin’s remote location.

Brooke proved insatiable, her libido living up to her “go all out” declaration. Fortunately, Clarke soon discovered it wasn’t only his strength and toughness that had improved, but his endurance as well. Yet for all his enhanced physical prowess, Brooke still surpassed him, even more so when it came to her raw enthusiasm.

Clarke offered to remove her restraints after their second lovemaking session, but Brooke demurred. It seemed she enjoyed both the roles of conqueror and conquered, and she alternated between the two long into the night.

Eventually, their sexual marathon reached its conclusion, and they collapsed into a sweaty tangle on the bed. They both took quick showers and then snuggled up for some much-needed rest.

Clarke wasn’t sure what time it was when he drifted into a deep slumber, but he knew exactly what woke him up.

The fire alarm.

“What the what?!”

He threw the covers off and bolted out of bed in nothing but his boxers. Smoke poured into the bedroom, hugging the ceiling, and he raced out to find the source.

“Brooke?” he shouted over the alarm, storming into the living room and kitchen.

“Sorry!” she shouted, dousing the stovetop with a fire extinguisher. The flames licking upward from the cast iron pan died down. She made a circuit of the room, opening every window to let the smoke out, which was somewhat awkward with the metal bars in the way.

The fire alarm eventually stopped screeching at them.

Brooke planted the fire extinguisher on the table and blew out a long breath.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I tried to make breakfast.”

He glanced into the pan. It was hard to tell what it was supposed to be, given all the char and fire-retardant foam.

“Breakfast appears to have been unsuccessful.”

“I’m sorry! This was my fault.”

“You still haven’t explained what happened.”

“Well …” She slumped into one of the seats. “Emma told me how she likes to cook you breakfast, so I thought I’d surprise you with a meal of my own. Only”—she waved at the ruins of breakfast—“this happened.”

“But how?”

“Well, the fridge had a pack of bacon, so I thought I’d give that a try. How hard could it be, right? Put the bacon in the pan, apply heat, remove when done.”

“That’s sounds pretty normal for bacon.”

“But then I started feeling antsy, so I decided to take care of that by running a few laps around the property.”

“While leaving a hot stove and a pan of greasy bacon unattended?”

“Yes?” She seemed to shrink back from his words.

“Did you really need to go for a run this early in the morning?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I get these overpowering explosions of energy that I just need to burn off. Don’t you ever get those?”

“No, but that sounds like one of my parents’ dogs who’d—” He stopped, the puzzle pieces slotting together in his mind. “Brooke?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I have a question.

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