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At least, that was what I told myself.
Sometimes, if I was having a particularly hard day, which was every day lately, I’d imagine her falling and breaking an ankle from those spiky heels of hers. I might’ve felt bad about that particular fantasy if she hadn’t often threatened to throw hot coffee at my face if I didn’t stop slurping it. Ever since she’d made her first threat, I had continued to slurp to piss her off.
Now, she stood next to me, shoulder to shoulder, like a pillar of obsidian stone. She’d lost her standard black blazer a while ago, and the few undone buttons at the top of her shiny black blouse hinted at pale skin below her collarbone, the delicate gold chain around her neck occasionally revealing itself when she shifted. If I were more interested in getting to know her, I’d lean into her space, wrap my hand around her tiny, belted waist, and ask what the charm was, but I was raised Catholic. I knew all about Eve and the Garden of Eden.
Taylor Novak was the snake that convinced her to eat the apple.
“No date tonight?” I asked, tucking my hand into my pocket, idly wondering how long Satan allowed her to be in our realm.
She clucked her tongue, deliberately stretching her neck to peer over at the bar, where two men worked. One clean-cut Hispanic guy, the other a white guy with tattoos and greasy-looking hair tucked behind his ears. I squinted to get a better look at the one on his neck. It appeared to be an octopus.
Octopus-tattoo guy lifted his gaze in our direction, and I felt the subtle shift of Taylor next to me. I slanted my eyes toward her. “You’re kidding.”
With her focus still over my shoulder, she sipped her martini.
“Him?” I asked. “Seriously?”
“What?” she snipped.
“That guy? He looks like he doesn’t shower.”
“But did you see the way he makes a drink?” she said in return, and I hated to admit I turned over my shoulder to observe him. Sure, it was impressive how he barely looked as he poured the ingredients without spilling a drop, butthatwas her standard?
“He’s a bartender.”
She narrowed her brows at me, which was really saying something since they were two permanent slashes, always angry about something. “You say it like it’s a pejorative. Yes, he’s a bartender, which means he’s good with his hands.”
I snorted.
“Jealous?”
“Of the man who’s fallen under the unfortunate jurisdiction of your attention? No, I’m not jealous.” Taking the chance, I leaned in closer to her as her eyelashes fanned when she blinked.
I had won.
For only a moment. Because then her dark stare was on me again.
I ignored the goose bumps and said, “I prefer women who don’t suck the blood from their partners at the end of the night.”
Her focus dropped to my mouth, only a few inches from her own, before she stuck an olive between her lips, which was the first giveaway of her reptilian origins. They were thin and perpetually red. Like she’d just finished her meal.
I watched as she chewed slowly then swallowed, the long column of her throat working.
When I raised my gaze up to her eyes, she smiled. Devil woman.
“I’m sure you prefer girls who do all the work.” She shouldered away from me. “Lazy, as always.”
Opening my mouth to tell her she couldn’t handle all mywork, I barely stopped myself and snapped my jaw shut. Not only was it inappropriate for me to make insinuations about sexual activity between us, it was totally out of the question. No matter how many times she’d told me to suck her dick.
And I certainly never imagined her suckingmydick.
She’d no doubt bite it off.
My eyes involuntarily tracked her as she stalked to the bar, though I didn’t know why. She was straight up and down. There was nothing to look at.
Except how she leaned against the bar, her lips tipping up at the greasy octopus bartender.
I spun away, polished off my beer, fixed my tie, and made my way over to Barbara Novak.
