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“Hunter.”
“Low life.”
“Highflier.” Roark threw himself down beside the witch, stretching his legs out, resting on his elbows. When he shoulder-bumped her, the zing from the contact again surprised him. “Confess. You hoped I’d visit.”
Indy rubbed her arm as if she also felt the buzz. “No. I didn’t.”
“Sure you did. You want my tongue down your throat again.”
Her mouth flapped open, guppy-like, as she drew a leg under her, preparing to rise. “I’m outtie.”
Roark snagged her wrist. “It’s true. I am with Arisen Dawn. But for you and the right price, I can be turned.”
She re-settled onto the ground, twirling an errant lock of hair around a finger. Though coiled into a thick braid, escaping dark curls were as untamed as the witch. Roark envisioned them tickling his flesh while she rode him hard.
“You’re not listening,” she said.
“Huh? True. I was picturing you on top of me, fucking me senseless.”
“Are you daft?” She hugged her knees, twisting toward him with brows drawn tight. “Why would I care if you can be turned?”
“You probably have a conscience which keeps you from going down on Arisen Dawn males. For reasons I can’t understand, you make me hard. So, do both of us a favor. Turn me. Then we’ll get busy fucking.”
Her outrage was as easy to read as a primer used in schooling younglings. “Your head’s stuck up your own arrogant ass.”
Roark nodded. “True, but I’ll take it out to help your noble cause. Grease my palms with coin, as the bad guys say.”
Settling down, Indy threw her head back to stare at the cloudy sky. “I don’t care if you switch sides.”
Roark smiled, surprised his amusement was genuine. He enjoyed toying with the witch. “Yes you do since we have a mutual desire to screw.”
“I wouldn’t let your dick in me if you dressed it in a bow tie, let it play steel drums, and parade down Bourbon Street.”
“Indy, my Indy, there’s an image which is gonna stay with me. If my decorated, percussion banging, marching cock won’t do it, what will?”
“Can you be serious for a moment?”
“I am serious. Encourage me to work with team good.”
Indy’s chest heaved with a deep breath, drawing Roark’s eyes back to her breasts, erasing all coherent thought from his mind.
Damn. What is it about this female? Never have I felt such a pull.
Roark should be able to ignore the damn witch, concentrate on his tasks, not worry that Cerberus marked her for death, and stop searching her out. Instead, he wanted to talk to her, touch her, and, mostly, fuck her.
She fiddled with her braid. “Why are you hooked up with Arisen Dawn? Do you buy the purity crap? After all, you’re a mix. Not exactly a good fit. Are you eager to kill humans, to keep a stable of them for food?”
Roark forced his gaze away from her tantalizing breasts. Lying flat on his back, he relaxed beside the witch. “Better yet, why aren’t you on Arisen Dawn’s side?”
“I believe in live and let live. That addresses the purity issue along with the let’s-fuck-over-humans thing.”
“Honesty. A warm heart. Admirable but debilitating.” He folded his arms under his neck.
Indy curled toward him, genuine puzzlement on her face. “Why is your loyalty for sale, Roark?”
He arched a brow, pleased the witch had cared enough to discover his name. “I freelance. Go where the money is. I enjoy a lifestyle of expensive leathers and daily crumpets.”
Indy rose from the ground, brushing leaves off her skirt, tucking wild strands of hair behind her ears, her bracelets clinking together. “If you’re serious about exchanging information for capital, talk to Scion Firebrand High Commander Cadmon.”
