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“Sure—”
Crash.
Jake was just starting for my couch when something clattering against my hardwood floor has both of us looking around.
That’s when I see my remote on the ground. Weird. It’s something I lose so freaking often that I try to make a conscious effort to return it to its place on the couch’s arm rest. I’m pretty sure that was where it was two seconds ago, but somehow it slipped off of the couch and crashed to the floor.
Luckily, the back didn’t pop off. That happens pretty frequently, too, especially when I absently knock into it, sending it flying. I’ve lost more batteries that way, the small cylinders rolling out of sight and out of mind.
Gathering the pieces and hurriedly putting it together, I show it off to Jake, then toss it onto the couch. “Now, about that coffee… how would you like that?”
“However you take yours is fine.”
I nod, then tell him I’ll be right back.
The entire time I’m getting two mugs of coffee ready, I’m having second thoughts. It was one thing to fantasize about my co-worker earlier because he was the only guy around. Now that I’m home… I don’t know. I’m not as horny as I was, though I am still feeling sick.
During dinner at the diner, he leaned across the table and placed the back of his hand against my forehead. I hadn’t expected it, and when I felt his clammy touch against my overheated skin, it was all I could do to keep my food down.
When I think about letting Jake touch me now… I’m back to being nauseous.
Maybe the coffee will help, I decide. Grabbing the two mugs, I head back to the living room, jolting a little when one of the pictures of me and the twins happens to fall backward on its shelf as I pass it.
What the—
Ignoring it, I go over to where Jake’s waiting for me on the couch. I give him his mug, then keep mine between both of my hands. Compared to my feverish skin, it’s barely warm, and as much I try to force myself to, I can’t compel my hands to bring it to my lips.
Jake doesn’t seem too interested in the contents of his mug, either. Setting it down on the slightly lopsided coffee table in front of my couch, he turns to look at me.
“Hope,” he murmurs, inching his face closer to me.
Shit. He’s going to kiss me, isn’t he?
I swallow, frantically trying to figure out how to avoid his kiss without offending him—or him rightfully accusing me of leading him on.
And that’s when my front door suddenly slams wide open, scaring the crap out of me… while also giving me the perfect excuse to get up and dash away from Jake.
CHAPTER7
KISS
SAMMAEL
My Hope is being lusted after by another male.
He is fortunate that my magic still has yet to return to me. I’d use every one of the secret spells that us mages pass among each other when we’re still students to zap him. There’s one I heard of that makes a demon lose one of his horns.
If I could cast it on the human, maybe his cock will fall off. I’d like to see him try to mate my Hope without one.
Obviously, that is not possible. There is no way for me to confront the male, or to show myself to Hope while she is awake. Not as a phantom.
Part of me had believed that, when she was conscious again, she’d still think fondly of the male she met in her dreams. After she gave me her essence with a simple brush of her finger, I could finally communicate with her. I know her tongue as if it is my own.
And I know that this male is asking things of her that should be reserved for Hope’s true mate.
Me.
The most I can do right now is try to catch her attention by moving some of the objects in her home. I knock her ‘mote’—the control for her box… ah, hertelevision remote—to the ground.
