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Fuck if I didn’t blush. I fanned my face. “Stop using your sexy voodoo on me, you temptress.”
Moira winked. “As you wish.”
“I love you, too.”
The clock on Moira’s desk chimed midnight, and her smirk took on a wicked edge. “Oh look, the witching hour is upon us. Time to go have some fun.” She winked, pulling on her mask. “What do you say, Sunday? Ready to raise some hell?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Moira sighed. “All right, that was a little anticlimactic, but I’ll take it.” She wove her arm through mine. “Come on, kitten. Let’s go break some hard-ons.”
“I don’t think that’s what you’re supposed to do with them.”
“Then you’re not doing it right. Even I know that.”
I paused, staring at her. “Moira... one of these days you’re going to tell me your secrets.”
She batted her eyelashes at me. “Sweetie, you’d never survive it.”
“Try me.”
“Maybe when you’re older,” she said, her expression deadpan as she patted my hand.
I laughed so hard I worried I would ruin my makeup because I’d start crying. “I don’t know. I already have more dick than I can handle. How much more experience do I really need?”
She opened the door, and all the lightheartedness was sucked from the room the moment I saw who waited outside. There he was. The biggest dick of them all, and not the fun kind.
Kingston stood there, his large frame covered in a fuck-hot tuxedo, his mask covering his eyes and pulling my attention to his full lips, hair slicked back, cheekbones on display. God damn him, I was wet already.
I hated him.
Almost as much as I wanted him.
And fuck if that wasn’t the most annoying part of all.
