KnockingonDemon'sDoor by Unknown (best love novels of all time TXT) 📕

role as a bunny and dumbing herself down. Not much wonder. She was far too bright for such a portrayal, but despite her awkwardness, she still didn’t fail to arouse the hell out of him. Since his unforgiving work pants left little to the imagination, he angled his body to hide his erection. What the hell was it about her that aroused him to the point of distraction and had him thinking about going against his own best interests and fucking her?

“I’m an instructor. Here for the ski season.”

With a nod, he gestured to the group behind her. “Are you a live-in, like the others?”

Sunny angled her head and wiggled her fingers at her friends. “Yes. I’m Tabby’s roommate.”

He made a noise, a half grunt, a half chuckle and then said, “That should be interesting.”

“Interesting?” Sunny pulled a face, obviously waiting for him to enlighten her.

Blake turned his attention to Mac, who was twirling his empty whisky glass on the bar. When Mac gestured to Blake for another, Blake again poured him a soda pop and slid it across the mahogany bar. “Right back at ya, Mac,” he said and then leaned across the counter in front of Sunny to pick up the conversation where they’d left off.

“Yeah, you two just don’t seem like a good fit,” he said, testing her.

Even though he could tell her mind was racing, she answered without a moment of hesitation. “Oh, Tabby and I are two peas in a pod, really. We both love to shop.” She held her index finger out and began adding digits as she continued her litany. “We wear the same size clothes, have the same taste in food and,” she stopped to pitch her voice low. Her smile was slow and inviting when she added, “The same taste in men.”

The dilation of her pupils told another story. She wasn’t into ski jocks or playboy bartenders.

He had to hand it to her, she was quick on her feet and despite the situation he found himself admiring her abilities. “What do you do in the off season?”

She gave a low throaty chuckle and in a movement that felt far too erotic to him, she tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. The enticing scent of vanilla reached his nostrils, and he resisted the urge to groan in sweet agony. Vanilla. His favorite. Of all the fucking scents she had to be wearing…

“You’re a man of many questions.”

He shrugged. “Comes with the job, I guess.”

“And here I thought bartenders were supposed to just listen.” Her sexy grin made his blood pulse hot.

Okay, she had him there. Despite himself he smiled back, enjoying her quick-witted humor. Damn. He shouldn’t be smiling. He hated this woman. Or rather, he hated the cop in her. But much to his dismay something in his gut softened, telling him she was as out of place in this fucked up world as he was. “Okay, you talk, I’ll listen.”

She took a tiny sip of her drink and went on to explain, “Just because it’s the off season in Canada, doesn’t mean it’s the off season everywhere. I usually travel to Thredbo Resort in Australia and instruct there. Have you ever been? It’s quite beautiful. If you’ve never been you should go. I’m sure they are always looking for great bartenders.” He noted the way she quickly redirected the conversation, and decided to let her ramble to see where it would lead them.

“Yeah, I’ve been,” was all he offered.

After a moment of silence she asked, “So what do you do when you’re not bartending?”

Hunt for my sister, avoid the cops and kill as many heartless, full-blooded demons who find their way to earth as I can. Demons that want me to be their fucking mule.

Just then Blake glanced up to see Tony, his replacement, move toward the bar. Knowing he had to ditch Sunny before she got in the way of his investigation, and his upcoming meeting with Trevor, Blake offered her a smile full of sensual promise and gave her the answers any bunny would want to hear. “I play.”

Except it wasn’t playtime. It was time to meet with Trevor and find out what the scary bastard was up to.

Michelle watched him close out his cash and switch shifts with the next bartender. As the two men exchanged a few words, Michelle studied the easy way Ash moved and the way his hard muscles rippled beneath his snug work shirt. Everything about him wreaked havoc on her senses and toyed with her suddenly overactive libido. Her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips as his body tortured hers in the most delicious ways. She clenched her fingers—as well as her legs—and sucked in air, cursing her all-too-human response to him. He was throwing her off her game, and in a resort where women were going missing, she needed all her wits about her.

She marshaled her thoughts and went back to observing him. She put him to be around six foot four, which was much taller than her five-foot eight frame. Even though she was thoroughly trained in the field of martial arts, she knew it would take more than her skill and strength to take down this demon. She made a mental note to re-dip her dagger in holy water, her weapon of choice when going up against monsters.

Then let him see how well balanced that god tattoo left him.

Mac, who’d seemed to take up permanent residence at the bar, sidled up to her. Despite the fact that she clutched an icy strawberry drink, still full, he asked, “Can I get you a refill?” and then proceeded to rattle the melting ice in his empty glass. The sour smell of stale whiskey on his breath nearly knocked her over.

“No, I’m good, thanks.” For a quick moment she risked her undercover role by stepping out of character and conjuring a polite smile, her heart and sympathy reaching out to him. Since he wasn’t a ski