"Do you have some clothes I could borrow?" I prompted, feeling my fox ears twitch at him. He really did suck at social graces.
Mik grunted, like he was not only incapable of human speech, but like I was also being the most painful houseguest in the entire world. He did, however, turn around and rifle through one of his drawers. As he bent, I couldn't help but notice how great his ass was, nice and firm and taut. I’d always admired it, but I’d never had the guts or the gall to say anything. It had to have been the lingering effect of him having fed from me, but all of a sudden, I found myself dropping the sheet and scooting to the edge of the bed with my hands outstretched towards that lush butt.
Thankfully, I regained control over my rogue hands before they touched down—so to speak—and I froze. What the hell? I'd just been about to squeeze the rounded, firm ass of my boss. Was I totally insane?!
Sadly, fate was not on my side, and as I sat there frozen with my hands outstretched, he straightened up and stepped back directly onto my palms.
This time, we both froze.
Oh shit. Oh shit, shit, cocks and balls, this is not happening right now!
"Thea?" My ancient, vampire assassin boss said my name in a deadly quiet tone. "Why are your hands on my ass right now?"
"Uh." I frantically searched my brain for any reason why this might be okay. "Would you believe me that I have no idea?"
He gusted out a long sigh. "Is there a reason why they're still on my ass?"
"Is there a reason why your ass is still on my hands?" I countered with the lamest comeback I had really ever used in my life.
"Thea," he snapped, "remove your hands."
Quick as a fox, I snatched them back and tucked them under my thighs to prevent anymore slip-ups like that. "Sorry," I muttered, feeling incredibly foolish. I also felt hungover and slightly weak from the bloodloss. If I’d had my magic, my body might’ve already recovered. As things stood, I was going to heal at a rate only slightly more accelerated than a human’s. Lucky me.
"Here." He tossed a shirt my way and leaned his firm butt against the dresser to scowl at me. "I was worried this might happen. It's always a risk when feeding from a new species."
"Worried what would happen? Me grabbing a handful of your butt? No offense, Mik, but I'm pretty sure that's just my hangover and seriously dried-out libido making me do weird shit." Or … something like that anyway. I'd never had bad impulse control before, but there was a first time for everything, right?
"No. That's not what this is." Mikhail sighed again and rubbed at his brow. "This is uncomfortable news to have to deliver, but you might find yourself acting out on impulses that you maybe would’ve suppressed under normal circumstances." He paused, his lips pursed. "In regards to me."
Squinting at him, I tried to understand what he was saying while pulling his shirt on. It was easily long enough to wear as a dress, if I could snag one of his ties as a belt.
"So … spell this out for me, Mik," I replied eventually. "You're saying I’ve lost my impulse control, like a drunk person or some shit? That I'm going to start acting without thinking? Because that would be a really bad thing in our line of work, don't you think?"
"Not all impulses. Just any that might relate to myself, and any sexual desires you might have." He looked uncomfortable, but I was just getting angry.
Checking that his shirt was covering all my lady bits, I stood up and propped my hands on my hips to glare at him. "Excuse me? Any sexual desires I might have? What are you trying to imply here, Mikhail? That I'm harboring a secret crush on you that I'm suddenly going to start acting on?" Oh crap, this was not good. Not good at all.
"Don't you?" he challenged, quirking a black brow and almost laughing at me with his sapphire eyes.
I spluttered with indignation and embarrassment. Had I been that obvious?!
"Absolutely not. You're the last person I would want to fuck, even if we were the last people left on earth. No offense, Mik, but you're kind of an asshole." Swear to the Fox Father, if I were made of wood my nose would be a mile long by now.
Liar, liar pants on fire, my subconscious sang to me and I told it to shut the fuck up. There was no way in hell I was letting this arrogant, sexy, infuriating son of a vixen think I had the hots for him.
"Uh-huh," he nodded, almost sarcastically. If he was capable of sarcasm, that is. "We need to get going. I called a meeting this morning to discuss the developments of the anti-shifting disease."
Looking around the room, I spotted my black sequined hooker heels poking out from under the bed, so I fished them out to put on. "Fine, can we just stop by my place, so I can grab clothes on the way?"
"No," Mik said calmly, his eyes raking my body from head to toe. He seemed to linger far too long on the naked lengths of my legs, making me wonder if I wasn’t the only one who might be having a little problem with my impulse control. With a shake of his head, Mikhail headed toward the door of the apartment. "We're already late enough as it is."
"What?" I squawked, grabbing one of his ties from the dresser and using it to belt the shirt-dress. "Mik, I'm not going in there looking like a fucking hooker."
He cast a glance back at me, trailing his eyes over my improvised dress again, which just so happened to end several inches short of decent. "You look fine," he said in a gruff voice. "Now hurry up. This is a time sensitive matter, which you would’ve known had you answered your phone last night."
Jogging a little to catch up with him, I ran through the patchy memories of my night once more. "That's right. You didn't want to kill Nix. What gives? I thought the guild had a hit on him. You know, the one that I'm supposed to fulfill on Sunday?"
"Things have changed." His answer was short and sweet, but it wasn’t cutting it for me.
"No, you really didn't want to kill him. Even when he was clearly trying to kill you. What sort of history do you two have anyway?" We had just stepped into the elevator and as the doors slid closed, Mik slammed his palm into the wall beside my head, making my jump and baring his fangs at me.
"None of your damn business, Thea," he growled in a threatening tone. "Now leave it the hell alone."
I should’ve been scared. Hell, I should’ve been terrified. But all I could focus on was the shiny, sharp points of his pearl white fangs, and how good they’d felt inside my flesh as he’d fed from me.
Totally against my better judgement, my back arched and the points of my bra-less breasts brushed against Mik's chest. I wasn't alone in this though, as his breathing seemed to speed up a fraction and his face dipped lower, towards my neck. My hands gripped his muscular sides, pulling him closer to me as I tipped my head to the side and the points of his fangs grazed my skin.
Ding! The elevator announced our arrival in the parking garage and the doors slid open, causing me to shove Mik off me and him to jump away like I was made of molten silver or something.
"You see?" he snapped, storming off the elevator and into the fluorescent lit garage.
"Oh bullshit," I snarled back. "It doesn't mean I like you, you arrogant ass. Your magic is just fucking with my mind."
He huffed a frustrated sound as he unlocked the doors to his classic ‘57 Ford Thunderbird and slid into the driver’s seat. I opened my own door, muttering under my breath about chivalry clearly being dead before buckling my safety belt. In a car this old, who knew if there were airbags or any sort of real safety in the event of a crash.
"Look, just … try your best to keep your hands to yourself while we're at the office, okay?" Mik gave me a vexed look, narrowing his gorgeous eyes. "The effects should wear off as soon as your body breaks down the pheromones."
"Should?" I repeated, not liking the uncertainty of that statement.