Kissing With Teeth (Kissing With Teeth #1) Read Online Daryl Banner

Categories Genre: M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: Kissing With Teeth Series by Daryl Banner
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Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
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“Are you seriously down here lookin’ for him?”

“No, I thought I’d try my luck at the penny slots,” Kyle spits back sarcastically. “Just let me do what I came here to do. I know he’s here. I can sense him. I just need to get to him.”

“Sense him? You serious? You can do that?”

Kyle sighs. “Just go, please. You order the room service. I’ll be back to eat it up with you, promise.”

“Bullshit.”

Spurred by Brock’s sudden arrival, Kyle pushes away from the machine and heads straight to the pair of employees by the door. “Hey,” he greets them halfheartedly. “Ma’am, his feelings are genuine and pure. He doesn’t want to one-night-stand you like Jeff did, he actually wants a relationship, the real thing, and he has for a while. And you, sir,” he says, facing the other one, “need to give her space. She likes you, but has a distrust of most men because of her past, and maybe whisking her off to Long Beach alone isn’t the best tactic to securing her trust. Now if you two will excuse me, I need to find my friend. Don’t worry, I’ve got, uh, proper clearance or whatever.” Kyle slips between the startled, wide-eyed pair of them, entering the utility door.

As he hurries up the stairs, he hears the male employee call up at him, “Uh, sir? I don’t think you’re allowed to—Sir? Sir?” But Kyle ignores it, reconnecting to his heart, chasing Elias up the brightly-lit stairs, everything white and unremarkable. With each flight ascended, he feels his heart swell more and more, telling him he’s going in the right direction.

He stumbles as he spills out of the stairwell, falls to the floor, then gets back to his feet, shaking with nerves. This hall is as bright and dull as the stairwell was, fluorescents from one end to the next. Some upper floor, too bright, his eyes stinging with office lighting. He quickly makes his way, listening to his heart, which drums with urgency. He turns a corner, keeps on going. A door opens somewhere behind him, and he senses the person grow still, watching him with concern. He even feels that concern, now multitasking with his reach, connected both with Elias and the presence at his back. Was he capable of this before? Is desperation making an expert out of him?

“Excuse me, sir?” calls out the person from behind, a young woman. When Kyle keeps on, ignoring her, she calls out again. “Who are you? Excuse me? I asked who you are.”

Kyle pushes through a door, spilling into another hallway. It’s then he hears someone shout from behind. Kyle doesn’t look. He breaks into a run. “Hey, you!” someone shouts out. Footsteps at his back, chasing him. Now Kyle is running faster, determined, fists clenched.

Rounding another corner, Kyle stops short, coming face-to-face with a security officer. “Hey, stop right there! Identify yourself!” says the man with authority.

Sadly, the man is only able to make it through half of those words before Kyle shoves him out of the way with a strength the man clearly was not anticipating, brushed aside like a twig and crashing into the wall. “Sorry!” shouts Kyle over a shoulder as he races ahead, rounds another corner.

The warmth grows ever warmer. It is a literal game of hot and cold. Elias, the target. Kyle’s reach, the clue-giver.

Kyle’s Reach. Is it too soon to name his gift? No, he decides in this moment, his mighty heart aflame with its power. Tristan had his Lull. Kyle will have his Reach. Suddenly, the name feels perfect. “I will find you, Elias,” he says to himself, inspired.

The next set of doors he shoves through, he is startled to find himself on the roof, all the stinging fluorescents gone, the distant glow of Vegas now surrounding him. He slows, in awe of the sudden shift in atmosphere as he walks across the smooth surface of the expansive rooftop. There are plants up here, rows of potted plants, colorful flowers, none of them looking poisonous or sinister. Covered area with tables and chairs, a meeting area for top-tier guests, executives, people of importance. A few lights here and there, hanging lanterns, strings of bulbs artfully hung. Kyle slowly circles the area.

Ahead, he spots a bench near the edge of the roof, looking off in the direction of the Las Vegas Strip some distance away.

On that bench sits a young man, his back to Kyle.

Kyle’s heart pulses triumphantly. He already knows.

“E-Elias?”

Elias turns. Elias, in a crisp white dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, free of blood. Elias and his warm brown eyes. He does not seem able to believe what he sees. “Kyle …?”

A smile spills over Kyle’s face. “Hey there, stud.”

“What’re you doing? I … I told you not to—”

“I know. Guess I don’t follow instructions well. You look really nice, by the way.”



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