Read Trueblood 01-The-Consolation-Prize for Free Online Page A

“what are you up to” frown than one cast in disdain at a stupid woman. Chloe marched into the hall, his eyes burning holes in her back.
    Reception was empty; presumably Miranda lurked on the floor with her book and chocolate.
    Back in her room, Chloe locked the door and attached the chain. For all she knew, the gardener could be part of whatever conspiracy was keeping the guy downstairs a prisoner. She’d decided naked man was the good guy and whoever had chained him up was the bad. She waited. No voice of disagreement.
    Chloe made her way down the dark passageway to the basement. Her light caught the shelf of toys and she stumbled to a halt. Hadn’t she put the princess on the shelf below? Chloe shook her head. She had more important things to worry about. She wasn’t sure what she hoped for when she lifted the flap. That she’d imagined the whole thing? That he’d still be there?
    He was still there, hanging just as he’d been before. Oh God, and she’d left the lights on. Big mistake. She crawled into the room and tried to keep her eyes away from the area between his legs. Failed again. Oh God. If it was that length now, what would it be like erect? How would it feel sliding into her? Would it reach a place none had reached before? Chloe gave herself a mental slap. Where had her mind gone? This guy needed help. Thank God he didn’t know what she was thinking.
    “Are you still unconscious?” she asked.
    No, you idiot, he’s sleeping standing up . Of course he was unconscious. He had to be really uncomfortable. No wonder the chains were cutting into him.
    Chloe took the bolt cutters from the bag. The chain was so tight against his skin it seemed impossible to get the blades around the metal without nicking him. She located a free link by his left ankle and forced the handles together. They bit around the chain and moved no further.
    Using every ounce of strength she possessed, Chloe struggled to jam the blades closed. She couldn’t do it. She could have wept with frustration. What the hell point had there been in letting her buy bolt cutters that didn’t work?
    “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t do this. I’ll have to get help.”
    “No.”
    “No.”
    “No.”
    Chloe dropped the bolt cutters, clutched her head, and tumbled to the edge of the bed. Not a good idea. It left her at eye level with his lovely equipment. How come there were no chains around his crotch? In fact, it seemed it had been deliberately left exposed. Not that she was complaining and neither would he, if he was aware of it.

    She wanted to touch him, feel the silky soft length of him, pump until she made him hard. He wouldn’t know. He was unconscious. Temptation surged, carrying Chloe on a torrent of rushing whitewater in the right direction. One little touch. Just one. Who’d know? One stroke with her finger. One kiss. She made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a whimper. Nope, it was no good. She’d know.
    Chloe stood up and took a deep breath. Her panties were wet. She had that tingling between her thighs that normally required a few moments of rubbing with her fingers to produce. Chloe couldn’t remember the last time she’d been affected in this way by a guy and this one wasn’t even conscious. It seemed wrong and yet right. She wanted him. You can’t have him . She spoke to herself in a very firm voice. It made no difference. Every cell in her body wanted him, needed him.
    She peeled the tab from a can and held it to his lips, letting the bubbles burst under his nose.
    “Hey, try and take a swallow.”
    He didn’t move. Chloe wavered over tipping anything into his mouth. She didn’t want him to choke. She wasn’t going to be able to drag him onto the floor and give him the kiss of life. More was the pity. She stuck her finger in the fizzy liquid and wiped it across his lips. They were soft and smooth but unresponsive. And a bit cold.
    “Wake up,” she pleaded.
    He didn’t.
    In the end, she drank the