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I snorted, my head wagging. The man wasn’t wrong. He was perfection. I wanted to lick every inch of his toned, tattooed physique.
We finished dressing and he took my hand, sliding me off the car hood, my legs wobbling under me. He pulled me into his arms, holding me up. “At least you didn’t run this time.”
“I would if I could.” I wasn’t completely sure if that was a lie or not.
The side of his mouth pulled up in self-satisfaction.
“We need to deal with business right now.” His mouth brushed my head. “But wewillbe talking about this later.” He slapped my ass and turned for the exit. “Come on, Kitty-Kat, it’s time to rub a genie bottle and make a wish.”
Chapter 14
Croygen
Holy. Fuck.
My muscles shook with each stride, straddling the line between I could take on the world and unable to take another step, needing to stretch out like a cat in pure ecstasy. If I thought the first time with her was a fluke, this just smashed that theory to smithereens.
I hadn’t meant for it to happen. I hadn’t gone into that bar thinking I would fuck her behind it. We were drunk. Stupid. Though looking back, I couldn’t have stopped it if I tried. Katrina was a force I was incapable of fighting. And now I was terrified that I didn’t want to.
With every step, I felt her sinking deeper into me, wrapping around my cock and burrowing into my soul. Her purr was an aphrodisiac; it had me so fucking hot and content I wanted to curl around her and fall asleep. Then wake up and fuck her all over again, set on repeat… forever.
Forever. What the fuck? I didn’tdoforever. I barely stayed more than a week with a woman. Amara might have been the exception, but only because, deep down, I knew I was safe. She would never love me, nor I her. Let alone something deeper.
Like…
Mate.
The term nipped at the base of my brain, squeezing down my lungs. Panic and serenity both pounded at my chest and head.
Shoving out the thought, I crossed the road to the pub, my dick still throbbing, already craving her so badly I was going cross-eyed.
Touching her lower back, I steered her through the pub door into the dark entry, my fingers zapping at the touch. The impulse to press into her, grip her hips, and slide my mouth down the curve of her neck was nearly overwhelming. To tug her pants down enough to enter her, slowly fucking her in the dark, with the sounds of the bar only feet away, hearing her moan.
Her frame went still, and a small gasp fluttered her lungs, as if she could hear, feel, and see what I was thinking, tapping into every part of my soul, taking up space there. Owning it.
My hand jerked back, scrambling to put up walls, feeling exposed and vulnerable. I was aware I should hate myself for crossing that line again because of who she was supposed to be to me, and what I was hiding from her.
Barricading myself against her, I rolled my shoulders back, putting my concentration on the mission. I had no idea what was ahead with this man we were meeting. I had to be focused and alert.
So much was riding on this.
Strolling back into the underground tavern, my lungs filled with the smoky haze of cheap cigarettes. The dim firebulbs barely cast enough glow to see any details. I sensed a different energy than even a few hours ago. Distrust, violence, and greed had a sour taste, a prickling energy of every eye being upon you. Shifty and crooked.
The bartender glanced up, his head nodding us toward the back. My attention followed his to an outline of a single person sitting at the far table against the wall.
Dipping my head in acknowledgment, I kept Kat behind me, my hand ready to grab my sword, my muscles locked tight, ready to act.
Interested gazes followed our figures through the tables, assessing us, trying to figure out if we were villain or victim. And most eyes, when they landed on Kat, turned hungry. For sex, for power, for someone they perceived as “weaker.”
A man licked his lips, lust running over her, the smell of sex still pumping off her like pheromones. He reached out to touch her, whispering something to her.
A growl came up my throat, and I whipped around, ready to rip him to shreds, when she yanked out my sword from my belt. Grabbing his arm, she twisted it behind him, slamming his head into the table with a crack, placing the blade near his crotch.
Blood gushed from his nose, and she held his head to the table, stabbing the tip of the blade through his pants and pinning him to the seat.
“You touch me again, and I’m gonna use your balls as garnish.” She leaned in close to his ear. “You even look in my direction or touch anyone without their say, I will slit your throat and use your skin as my next jacket and your dick as my necklace.”
She shoved his face in his own blood again before yanking out the sword from between his legs, sauntering up to me, handing it back. “Thanks.”
