Chapter 21
Iwalked into the kitchen and Bastian’s low whistle greeted me.
“You like?” I asked, stopping to twirl in place.
I’d gone for something simpler this time.
A pair of light washed denim cutoffs that were frayed at the bottom, black boots, and a cropped rocker T-shirt that skimmed my waistband.
Everything was paired with a black studded rocker belt.
The T-shirt was mostly for Bastian’s sake. I’d curled my hair and left it down.
“No fucking way. You’re a fan of Maroon Rage?” He chuckled, shaking his head, his eyes dancing.
“Yup. Got this at their concert last year.”
“Shit.” He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes devouring me as they turned heated. “Come here, sugar.”
I strutted over to him. His hands snaked around my waist, settling low as he dipped his head and kissed me, softly this time.
I deepened our kiss, swiping through his mouth with my tongue, trying to memorize the feel of it, the taste of it.
What might it be like when he removed the glamor?
Would his teeth sharpen? Prick me? Draw blood?
Heat built in my gut. I wanted that—wanted it badly. The idea of exploring him without his glamor left my fingers aching.
His hands crept lower, to the frayed hem of my shorts.
Fingers swept beneath, feather light over my skin.
I groaned, pressing my hips against him.
With swift movements, he scooped me up and planted me on the countertop.
My knees spread and he pressed into me, pulling me flush to him.
My head was a little taller from this position.
I used it to my advantage, wrapping my fingers around his neck, angling his chin where I wanted him.
He growled, the sound vibrating against my mouth.
I claimed him, licking his tongue ring, biting on his lower lip, my movements hungry.
I pulled away and said, “You don’t have any lip piercings?”
“I do. Just hidden by the glamor.”
“Right.” I often didn’t notice the extra details beyond his pointed ears, teeth, and skin color whenever the transparent overlay appeared.
He tilted my head and began planting kisses along my jaw, down the column of my throat. “I have the rest of the night off,” he managed between open mouthed pecks. “After we get back from the club, it should be warm enough for a swim. I haven’t forgotten the way you were eyeing the pool earlier.”
My breath quickened. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”
He scoffed. “Who said anything about swim suits? This is my pool, sugar. No one comes on my property. We’ll have the place to ourselves.”
A shiver raced down my spine at the picture he painted.
His tongue darted out at the base of my throat, licking the divot and sweeping upward in a claiming gesture. I groaned. The brush of his piercing made my thigh muscles go tight, flexing against his hips.
His fingers slipped beneath my T-shirt, palms warm against my skin. “I bet you got a whole collection of these cute little tops, don’t you?”
“I…” I couldn’t breathe.
“Maybe you can model them for me sometime?” I chuckled.
His kisses stopped just below my ear lobe—
A timer beeped. He pulled away and grinned. “Stay right there,” he warned, his voice a growl I didn’t dare disobey.
Then he busied himself around the kitchen, finishing up our dinner. I watched him, tucking my hands beneath my thighs as he began plating food.
“Meatloaf? You made meatloaf?”
“Yeah, you got a problem with that?”
I laughed. “Not at all! God, it’s so underrated.”
He grunted in agreement, then grabbed a fork and broke off a piece. A tendril of steam rose into the air. He blew on it to cool it, then brought it over. “Open up, baby girl.”
A swarm of butterflies broke out in my stomach.
I opened and his eyes fixed on my lips, lingering as he placed the fork on my tongue and slid it out. Flavor exploded in my mouth, with hints of sage and tomato. “Oh mah gah,” I managed through the steaming bite. “Delicious!”
He chuckled. “Thought so. Had the recipe since…the fifties? Improved on it here and there.”
“Shit, what’s your secret?”
“Wouldn’t be a secret if I told you…”
“Fine. But I need more of that.” I caught my bottom lip between my teeth. “Are you going to hand feed me here, or can I get down and eat.”
He laughed. The deep and rumbling sound had my heart fluttering. I stared at him, an infectious smile spreading over my lips. He lifted me down off the counter. In my stiletto heeled boots, I stood close to six feet tall and could have slipped down myself.
We settled at the island and I dug in. Meatloaf and sautéed green beans. My mouth remained too full to speak until I slowed down. “How do you decide what to cook?”
“Just whatever comes to me, I suppose? I do a grocery run twice a week, usually. Grab whatever I’m in the mood for.”
“You don’t just summon your ingredients out of thin air?”
“Doesn’t quite work that way, sugar. They gotta come from somewhere.” He took another bite, then swallowed. “I guess technically I could steal it all from the store. But I can easily afford it, so should I?”
“You mean, you’ve never been missing an ingredient? Like oregano? And just, you know, summoned it?” He threw me a wicked smirk. “Hah! I knew it. So naughty.”
“Very naughty. Perhaps I need—”
“Don’t you dare!” I warned, knowing exactly where this conversation was heading. I ate the rest of the food on my plate, glancing at the clock. It was 8:45pm.
“You cool with taking the bike again?”
“You mean, no fancy sports car?” I pouted, wondering when I was going to get to take that thing for a spin.
He lifted a shoulder. “We could, technically. You’d be more comfortable. The bike is easier to get through traffic, and if we have to leave like we did last night, I’m not wasting magic to summon a whole car back here. That thing’s way too damn heavy to move around. All the horsepower and whatnot…”
“But you could?” I lifted my brows in challenge.
“Oh, I could, sugar. I could do a lot of things. I simply spend wisely.”
I hummed. “Reckless motorcycle it is.”
Truth was, I liked it more than I should have, especially getting to wrap myself around him.
He scoffed. “It’s not reckless. You forget what I am? I won’t let any harm come to you.”
My stomach dipped. Yep. There he went again making me feel safe. I was finding it harder and harder to keep my emotions separate from whatever was happening between us. He just made it too…easy.
Thirty minutes later, after I’d insisted on doing the dishes and cleaning Teddy’s litter box, we were racing through Kentwood toward the city.
I wrapped my arms around Bastian’s torso.
Soon enough, my fingers were creeping beneath his black T-shirt.
His only response was a low chuckle, heard through my helmet’s audio. It made my insides drip with heat.
We arrived at Vortex to find a line snaking around the front. Bastian parked his bike on the sidewalk like he owned the place, and the next time I turned around, it was gone. “Won’t someone notice you just did that?” I asked.
“Nope. People aren’t too observant, and my magic makes sure they miss it.”
“Huh.” I pulled off my helmet and handed it over, running my fingers through my loose curls.
“Ready, sugar?”
“Yep.”
Bastian took my hand and my chest fluttered. He laced our fingers together as we walked toward the line. My focus zeroed in on our hands as I led him to the front.
“Hey, Tony,” I said, approaching the bouncer. Tony was another shifter, tall and broad shouldered, his head shaved, with darker skin and a couple of tattoos scattered around his body.
“Rose, baby girl, you ain’t working tonight?”
Beside me, Bastian let out a low, warning growl. Almost as if he didn’t like anyone else calling me baby girl but him.
Tony glanced at him, did a double take. “Fuck,” he muttered, then turned his attention back to me.
“Not tonight,” I said in answer to his question. “We’re here to see Eaden.”
His eyes darted back to Bastian and he swallowed. “You got it. Head on in.”
Interesting. If I wasn’t mistaken, Tony seemed a little wary of Bastian, afraid even. It made me wonder if Bastian had that effect on the rest of the supernatural community. I was usually too busy being hyper aware of him that I forgot to look at how everyone else around him reacted.
We stepped into Vortex and I kept a firm hold of Bastian’s hand. His thumb stroked over mine, calm, reassuring. I couldn’t help my eyes, darting back and forth as I searched for a head of blond hair. Would Luke be here, looking for me?
“He won’t get close, if he shows,” Bastian said, as if reading my mind.
I led him toward the back of the club, then up the stairs and to Eaden’s office door, where I knocked. There was a long pause, and then Eaden’s voice sounded. A lock clicked, and the door opened.
Eaden’s eyes found me first, looking me up and down. “Nice shirt.”
“Thanks.” I grinned. He was the one who’d gotten me tickets to Maroon Rage as a bonus. He did a lot of little things like that for his employees. It made a huge difference to us.
Bastian’s hand tightened on mine and Eaden’s eyes snapped in his direction. My boss went rigid, glancing between us, then at our hands. “Enforcer,” Eaden bit out, “didn’t expect to see you in my club. Can’t say I’m happy about it.”
I frowned. Enforcer?
“Relax, Eaden. I’m not here on orders tonight.”
Eaden’s jaw flexed. A long silence stretched between them. Eaden was the first to break eye contact, looking down and away. “Well, come in then,” he muttered.
I glanced between them. I knew enough about shifter hierarchies, especially with wolves. If Eaden looked away first, it’s because he recognized Bastian as the dominant of the two. Interesting…
We entered and shut the door, taking seats at the sofa where Eaden indicated. “Still drinking that shit whiskey, Bas?” Eaden asked, his voice softening as he moved over to a heavily stocked cabinet. Despite the change in his voice, his shoulders were still tense, his posture guarded.