by Tamara Hogan
She nibbled on her thumbnail. Had something happened at work? Was there a problem with a patient? Should she ask him what was going on? If something was going on, could he even tell her?
Exasperated, she turned back to the screen, where Sigurd’s biography glowed. If this was an indication of what living with the Vampire Second would be like—him, all mentally constipated, and her, trying to figure out whether it was okay to ask a freaking question? She’d tap out. It was no way to live.
Maybe moving her home office to Vamp Central had been a wee bit premature.
She glanced at her now-ragged nail, then plucked a flake of purple polish off her tongue. “And now he’s ruining my damn manicure.” She settled back to work, her fingers clacking against the keys a little more loudly than was strictly necessary.
“Tia?” Wyland walked toward her, down the center aisle, looking nervous but determined. He’d shed his suit coat, loosened his beautiful tie, and popped the top two buttons of his dress shirt. The sleeves were rolled up, exposing his muscular forearms and that gorgeous vintage watch.
A wave of sensual craving rippled through her. “Are you ready to go?”
“Not quite yet.” Clearing his throat, he looked at the screen where she was working. “Working on Sigurd’s bio?”
She nodded, gesturing to the open instant messaging window. “With Bailey’s help, I just finished formatting the document. It’s almost ready to upload to the Archives.”
“Good.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I need to update my bio.”
“Tonight?” Seriously? “Can’t it wait?”
“Just a quick update.”
“Whatever.” While he made his precious update, she could send Thane a text message, telling him it might be best if he put his plans to transform the second floor guest bedroom into her office on hold.
Rather than sitting down at the other workstation, Wyland reached over her shoulder for her computer mouse. She couldn’t move, couldn’t reach for her phone, without bumping into him. His subtle ocean scent permeated the space, scrambling her thoughts. Though the splint hindered his movements somewhat, he pulled up his own bio, and went into edit mode.
Her eyes widened as the mouse hovered over “Relationship Status.” Suddenly, his mental drawbridges dropped, leaving him wide open.
Such fierce, unruly emotions, all of them for her.
“Tia Tèodora Quinn...” She heard him swallow. “Would you do me the honor of being my bondmate?”
Her eyes widened to saucers. “Oh my.” She hadn’t expected…this.
“I know it’s fast,” he blurted. “I know I’m no prize. Your life will have constraints you can’t possibly imagine, political ramifications you don’t yet understand—”
“Shh.”
“Tia—”
“You asked me a question. Give me a chance to respond.” Thankfully his left hand rested on her shoulder, because without it, she’d probably float out of her seat. Taking control of the mouse, she selected ‘Bonded’ from the drop-down menu, typed her own name in the ‘To Whom’ field, and saved the change with a surprisingly steady hand.
When he wrapped his arms around her from behind, she cuddled into his scent, his heat. “I love you so much,” he murmured.
Hearing him say the words aloud was sublime. “I love you, too.”
Relief flooded from him, along with a giddy happiness that twined with her own. He moved in to kiss her, but she held up her hand. “Hold on a sec.” Retrieving her own bio, she changed her relationship status from ‘Single’ to ‘Bonded,’ then typed his name with a flourish. “There,” she whispered. “It’s official.”
They were bondmates.
And then his lips were on hers, sealing the deal with a kiss that told her…everything. He loved her. Wanted her. Needed her, desperately and always.
*ping*
His fingers plunged through her hair, pulling their mouths more tightly together.
*ping*
She reached for his ponytail holder and yanked. When his hair spilled loose, she buried her face in it, inhaling as if the scent was essential to life. “We’re not going to make it home,” she panted.
“Fine with me.”
*ping*
*ping*
*ping*
Wyland lifted his head with a scowl.
“Instant messages.” She glanced over to the screen, where images of celebration—confetti, champagne bottles, fireworks, kazoos—filled the small instant message box. “Bailey must have noticed the status change.” She grinned up at Wyland. “How many other IM chats do you think she just started?”
“Who’d be online at this time of night?”
*ping*
[ASebastiani:] Dudes! Congratulations! So happy for you.
*ping*
[SFontaine:] OMG seriously? Congratulations!
*ping*
[ChicoP:]
She logged off without responding.
“You’re ruthless. I like that in a woman.” Wyland took her by the hand, nibbling her knuckles. “How about we celebrate at home?”
She grabbed her purse. “Great idea.” Because that wisp of an English accent was melting her panties, and she wanted them…off. “So, about the guest bedroom…”
He turned off the overhead lights, plunging the room into darkness. “You’ll never sleep there again.”
No one would, but tomorrow was soon enough to tell him.
His fangs flashed. “Tonight, you’re all mine.”
“Same goes,” she murmured, flashing her own. She’d just drawn him into a wet, teasing kiss when Axl Rose wailed from inside her purse.
“Turn that damn thing off.”
As she set her phone to Vibrate, Wyland’s phone chirped. “Looks like the word’s getting around,” she said with a sigh.
Wyland glanced at his phone. “Elliott offers us his congratulations.” When it chirped again, he flicked a button and put the device back in its holder without looking. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Let’s.” As they started up the stairs, she ignored the vibrations coming from inside her purse, snuggling closer to Wyland. Tomorrow would be was soon enough to respond, and tell others their news.
Because tonight, and always, were theirs.
Author's Note
Writing a story is such a solitary endeavor, and it’s both a pleasure and a relief when we finally release our words into the world, knowing the fruit of our labor is in our readers’ hands. If you enjoyed this story, please help others find it by giving it an honest review or rating wherever you buy books.
If you’d like to get advanced notice when my next Underbelly Chronicles book will be published, please sign up for my newsletter!
You can also connect with me via:
Twitter (most active)
Facebook
Goodreads
The Ruby Slippered Sisterhood Blog
http://www.tamarahogan.com
Thanks!
Tammy
Books by Tamara Hogan
Want to read more Underbelly Chronicles?
TASTE ME
CHASE ME
TOUCH ME
TEMPT ME
ENTHRALL ME
About the Author
Tamara Hogan is the award-winning author of The Underbelly Chronicles paranormal romance series. An English major by education and a software engineer by trade, she recently stopped telecommuting to Silicon Valley to teach, edit, and write full-time. Tamara loathes cold and snow, but nonetheless lives near Minneapolis with her husband and two naughty cats.
ENTHRALL ME Copyright © 2017 by Tamara Hogan
Cover by The Killion Group
ISBN: 978-0-9894511-7-8
By payment of required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retriev
al system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Kindle Digital Edition 1.0
All rights reserved.
