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I sat in Bash’s comfy car, directing him to my work. He’s been quiet this morning. He didn’t make any comments about last night. He was gorgeous as ever, wearing a pair of black dress pants and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I couldn’t stop staring at his arms. What was it about them? The muscle? The tattoos? The strength? All of the above?
“Even though I didn’t mention it, I saw the tattoos on your legs,” Bash says. “Do you have more?”
“Yes,” I admit. I’m hoping he sees them all soon anyway.
“I want to see them,” he says.
“Okay,” I say, smiling.
“Why do you cover them?”
“People see me in a certain way; hiding them makes me feel like I have a secret, just for me. They make me feel special. It’s the same feeling I get from wearing sexy underwear,” I say.
“I want to see those, too,” he says.
“Okay,” I say, grinning.
“I keep waiting for you to freak out,” he admits.
“I suppose I would if I knew nothing about vampires and shifters,” I ponder. “I worked at Jax’s club and figured out that they were different. That’s where I met the man I’m not supposed to talk about, and I learned more. I saw what happened when Harmony met her mates. I heard from Serenity how it happened with her. Ava met her mates, and she shared a lot. So, I know what happens when mates meet. Why should I fight it?”
“You don’t know about me,” he says softly.
“I hope for that to change,” I say as he parks the car.
“We’ll see.” I stare at him, and he avoids my eyes. He gets out of the car.
I sigh and follow. No matter the species, men are still men. He will be a challenge, and I hope I’m up for it.
I open the door, and Quinn barks, “You didn’t tell me you were bringing a vampire to work.”
“You didn’t tell me you work for a bear,” Bash accuses.
“Would it matter?” I ask, going to Quinn’s office.
“It was a last-minute decision,” I say to Quinn. He’s doesn’t bother standing from his chair behind his desk.
“Sure,” he glares at Bash.
“This is Bash, my mate,” I say, ignoring the tension in Bash’s frame. “This is Quinn.”
“Why did you allow her to get hurt?” Bash asks.
“I didn’t. It happened, and I took the man outside and beat the shit out of him.”
“Not good enough,” Bash says. “I need his information.”
“No,” Quinn and I say at the same time.
“Why the fuck not?” Bash growls, looking between us.
“We have privacy rules for a reason,” Quinn says.
“I think we should leave it alone, and it will resolve itself,” I huff.
“Nothing resolves itself,” Bash says.
“I have to agree with him on that one, but you’re still not getting it.”
