Monday, April 14, 2008

EXCERPT from Prey for Mercy

I promised you an excerpt from Prey for Mercy, and here it is!:

“I get the winner.”

Her jaw dropped, but his rose in a grin. He winked. “We’ll see about that.”

Ooh, playful banter? My soul sang with his implied challenge. He was an excellent choice of prey. I batted my eyelashes and leaned forward to allow him a generous peek down my top while I studied the shot he was lining up. His line of sight traveled from the cue ball, across the green felt to the flesh I exposed. I inhaled an exaggerated sigh, thrusting my breasts all but out of my top.

Take the bait, pretty boy.

He took a long look, then allowed his gaze to roam my body and face. The blonde, who still stood feet away, reached a boil. “Chase Rogers! Quit looking at that bitch!”

He threw her a silencing glare, and then looked back to me, a hint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. “So...” He sidestepped his pool cue, and leaned close enough for the warmth of his cheek to penetrate mine. “Do you have a name, or will ‘bitch’ do?”

“Call me Mercy.” I closed the distance between us, brushing my lips against his cheek and my breast against his arm.

Time froze. I lived within his heart beat, my mind and soul whirring. A feminine voice within argued against the monster in my blood. Chase’s body by mine, warm and alive, pumping precious blood through his veins. I should have craved his flesh, desired to cut open his vein and drink, but I was bewitched. He was handsome, engaging, spirited enough to ignore the shrew and flirt with me. Perhaps bed sports would be better than bloodshed?

“Mercy me…” Chase’s voice rang in my ears, but it was his touch that broke the spell. His fingers traced a warm path along my cheek bone.

“If you’re lucky.”

Chase’s eyes remained locked on mine but his hand dropped from my jaw, brushing against my breasts on the way back to his pool cue. He diverted his gaze to the white ball, drawing the stick in his hands back before striking the ball. Blue chalk scattered from the force of contact. The cue ball rocketed forward, clipping a solid orange ball on the side and sending it into the side pocket with a snap.

“Nice shot.” His friend’s shoulders sagged. “I didn’t think you’d make it.”

“I have to win.” Chase shot a glance at his friend, and then winked at me. “Because Mercy gets the winner.”

No comments: