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“Ahem.” A low, sultry voice snakes through the air, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“Yes.” I stand and briskly pack up my laptop. “I’m late.”
She pouts in a way that is trying way too hard to be sexy, but I might be biased. I mean, I thought she was hot at first, right? And I must have continued to think so because I kept hooking up with her for months after that first time, desperatelytryingto make whatever faint sparks of chemistry we shared ignite into something more.
Normally I stick with one-night-stands. They’re easier, less messy. But I guess after seeing my brother, Damien, so happy, I’d thought maybe something like that was possible for me, too. I mean, Damien has a permanent stick up his ass. Ifhecan be happy, anyone can.
But Raven is proof that might not be the case. On paper, she has everything. A lawyer, just like me. She’s not human, so theoretically there’d be less interspecies relationship wrinkles to iron out. She’s smart, beautiful, decent in bed, and she can make fantastic waffles.
When I’m with her? I want to stick forks directly into my eyes.
“Good luck for me, then,” she says, smiling. Her piercing violet eyes bore into mine like she can read my soul.
Hell, she’s a siren. She probably can.
Her gaze shifts to my desk, overrun with briefs and files. “I could help out, you know? I know how hard you like to work.”
For a minute, a very brief, very weak minute, I almost accept her offer. She might be clingier than the bird flu, but she’s a damned good lawyer in her own right. But then I hear how her voice curls around the word ‘hard’ and I walk toward the door instead.
Christ, the last thing I need is to hook up with her again. She’s like one hook-up away from boiling a rabbit on my stove.
“I’ve been thinking about you, you know,” she says, running her hand up my chest and over my shoulder as I approach the doorway. “Mostly at night, when I’m all alone…”
“I did not know that, but thanks for sharing.”
How the fuck would I know what she’s thinking about? It’s part of the reason we didn’t work out. Listening to my brother talk about Sophia, it’s like they’re on the same, occasionally bickering, wavelength. With Raven? I’m on my wave, she’s on hers.
Maybe I’m mixing the metaphors here.
I duck beneath her arm, which takes considerable dexterity, and stride down the hall. She follows closely behind – of course she does. She wouldn’t take a hint if it hit her with a two-by-four.
“You seem to be in a rush this evening.”
“Yes.” I struggle to think how to word this politely. Normally, I’d just tell her to fuck off, but my brothers have both demanded I keep things civil as long as Raven works for us. There were some other choice words in that speech, like ‘fucking HR nightmare’ and ‘she’s a lawyer, you absolute dumbass’ and ‘I swear to everything you hold dear if she quits because of this, you’re gonna be stuck with her case load.’
“Hot date?”
“Yes,” I say decisively. Maybe she just needs help understanding that things are over. I’ve moved on, she needs to move on, that sort of thing. Really, I’m being motivational. “Very hot date.”
She doesn’t take this as motivation – she takes it as a challenge. As we approach the front of the office, I see that she’s taken off her jacket and pulled her shoulder up so that her chemise slips down. Her nipple is only an inch away from view.
It’s a nice nipple, but I’ve seen it already several times, and I really have somewhere else to be.
“Hotter than me?”
Raven juts her jaw out, as if daring me to insult her.
Ha! Not today, siren. Word games were her favorite kind of game to play while we were together, and as a result I’ve learned not to make any definitive statements that might be used against me in a court of Raven. “Attraction is subjective,” I say nimbly.
She can’t possibly get mad at that. It’s factually accurate and emotionally neutral. Attraction is a chemical, physical response that has no bearing on her worth as a person.
Raven gets mad at that. “Seriously?”
“I promise you I’m very serious.” Who wouldn’t be dodging their ex in the workplace? It’s not like I’m having fun here. Still, I understand the need to assure her that I take her emotions seriously. I’m not trying to hurt her – we had fun for a few days. Hell, she had fun for a few months. If anything, she should be thanking me for the good time and moving on with her life.
She adjusts her shoulder so that her right breast is entirely exposed, and her violet eyes gleam with pride. It’s only polite to admire the view for a moment while she chews on her bottom lip in a way she thinks is seductive.
“It’s a very nice nipple,” I assure her. “Your breasts, honestly? Nine out of ten, fantastic. Your body is incredibly attractive. I’ve just seen it all before, and I’m not interested in you as a person.”
