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“I came down here to discuss your pay,” I said primly, still averting my eyes from her accusing stare. Her nudeness was doing nothing to help me through my desires, and I leaned down and handed her the shirt I’d taken off of her. “What do you think is fair for your nights of work?”
“What kind of work are you charging me for?” she spat venomously.
My head jerked back, and my eyes narrowed at the implication.
“I’m paying you to handle Shifter Affairs,” I replied evenly, swallowing the resentment building in my throat.
“Really?”
“Bianca, don’t make this more complicated than it needs to be,” I started to say, and she scoffed, snatching her shirt and jeans off the ground.
She turned her back deliberately and dressed hastily, her humiliation clear. I wanted to say something to make her feel less embarrassed, but what was there to say?
Instead, I backed away toward the door, gnawing on the insides of my cheeks as my mind raced.
“I think it’s best if you’re paid every night,” I went on, shifting into business mode. It was where I was most confident, after all. But wafts of her deliciousness continued to filter into my nostrils, driving me crazy with each turn of my head. I needed to shower to get her scent off me.
I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to keep her clinging to my skin forever. Because this was going to be the first and last time this was ever going to happen.
“Whatever,” Bianca muttered, sliding her perfectly sculpted rear back into those dirty denim pants.
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her to leave the clothes, that I would outfit her with new garments that would make a queen green with envy, but I crunched down on the tender flesh of my inner mouth to stop myself. I had already involved myself too much.
After what happened with Ilona… I can’t get involved, not only because of Jesse, but because Bianca won’t live as long as me.
I was making excuses, trying to convince myself that these feelings I had festering inside me weren’t real. I was comparing Bianca to the other being I’d once loved because it was easier than confronting the real feelings in my soul, ones I had no idea what to do with.
We’ll have what? Sixty, seventy years at best? Then she’ll die, and I’ll be on my own again. Except this time with a larger hole in my heart. No, this doesn’t make sense, even if it weren’t already a mess.
“I’ll go collect your money from last night,” I told her.
The phones rang and rang, finally forcing her to snatch one up.
“Call back!” she barked into the receiver, slamming it back down.
My brow shot up in shock. She whirled around to confront me, her dark eyes blazing.
“You said you would help me,” she hissed, advancing on me.
“No, I didn’t!” I protested, holding up my hands as she drew closer. “I specifically told you that I couldn’t!”
Her jaw slacked. “Are you serious right now? Three seconds before you attacked my mouth, you told me you would!”
I swallowed thickly. “I’ll be back in a minute,” I told her soothingly. “With money and something to eat. Sage said that you enjoyed the sandwich yesterday.”
Her mouth opened wider. “Really?” she spat. “A sandwich?”
“Would you prefer something else?”
I reached for the door handle, and the phones started once more.
“Yes!” she shot out. “I would prefer if you would help me like you do these drug pushers!”
I bristled. “I don’t help those who aren’t worthy,” I growled, dismayed at her assessment.
“Right,” she fired back. “You just leave genuine kidnap victims to be abused.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
