He leaned in, his voice smooth and sexy. “Careful now, I’m smitten about a girl who blushes.”
Our bottles clinked, and he took a long sip, his eyes centered on mine.
Viktor must have broken the news, because a disgruntled look was splashed all over Christian’s face. He leaned back, his arms hanging at his sides like dead limbs.
When he locked eyes with me, I raised my bottle and drank to our weeklong friendship. Viktor continued talking, drawing Christian’s attention away.
“You’re not into those Vamps, are you?” Kiernan asked.
Christian’s head swung around, and his volcanic gaze could have set the bar on fire.
I hopped off the stool and touched Kiernan’s arm. “Not a chance. Did you know Vampires have exceptionally small penises? It’s true. All the women they sleep with are charmed into believing the sex was great.”
Kiernan rocked with laughter and stood up, encasing me in his arms. His mouth brushed against my ear, our bodies flush. “You’re my kind of girl.”
I shivered in places I didn’t know I could.
A hard tap sounded on the bar behind me as a glass knocked against the wood, and a rush of air ruffled my hair.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your friend,” Christian said in a silken voice.
I drew back from Kiernan, still feeling his body against mine. He cupped my cheek and stroked the pad of his thumb against it, and there I stood—between two men.
Christian rested his elbow on the bar so he was more in my line of view.
“This is Kiernan, and we’re busy,” I said.
Kiernan was a smart man not to look up at Christian, who could easily compel him to walk away. “Is there a problem?” he asked.
Christian squeezed his bottle until it cracked but stopped shy of breaking it. “Not yet, provided you keep your nose out of her business.”
I jerked my head around. “Maybe I like his nose in my business.”
Kiernan moved me aside to confront Christian. “I think she’s capable of making her own decisions, so I’m going to ask you one more time. Is there a problem, Vampire? Because the way I see it, your Breed needs to stick to its own kind.”
My fangs involuntarily slid out, and I quickly shut my mouth before Kiernan noticed. Unfortunately, it didn’t slip past Christian, and a look of satisfaction crossed his face.
He cocked his head to the side and gave the Mage a tight grin. “Kiernan, is it? I’d offer to buy you a drink, but it seems your mouth is full at the moment with your foot wedged in so tightly.”
“Enlighten me.”
Tension crackled, and Kiernan gave me a lingering look that made my heart accelerate.
Christian chuckled darkly. “Maybe you should ask her to smile.”
Kiernan gripped my arm lightly. “What’s he talking about?”
When I opened my mouth to answer, I forgot to retract my fangs. Kiernan’s icy stare was enough to freeze my blood, and he let go as if he’d grabbed hold of a viper.
“I should have known those were contacts. You shouldn’t lie about your fucking Breed. You Vamps are nothing but filthy liars,” he said, grabbing his drink and moving away.
“Wait…” When I moved to follow him, Christian seized my wrist. “Get away from me! You’re the most insensitive man I’ve ever met.”
He stood up straight and blocked my escape. “Is that so? Because from my vantage point, I was saving you from getting mixed up with some dope in a faux-leather jacket.”
“That’s pretty high-and-mighty coming from a man who has sex with random women in a bar. I won’t even eat a hot dog served in a bar and you’re sticking yours in the first bun you see. Couldn’t satisfy her? Is that why you’re hanging around in my zip code with all this free time?”
“You’re the most stubborn, mouthy, bitter woman I’ve ever met and definitely not my type.”
I smiled warmly. “Thank God for that. I don’t want anything in common with a woman who’d lift her skirt in a back room for a man wearing a T-shirt advertising cigarettes.”
He wrapped his hand around my nape. “Do you want to know why I really sent that blundering idiot on his merry way?”
“He shaves?”
Christian leaned in close. “He didn’t once bother to ask why your lip was swollen and cut, not even when he was stroking your cheek. But that’s the first thing I noticed when you strutted across the bar. Do you want to know what kind of man flirts with a woman sporting injuries on her face?”
“Are you trying to be the hero in this situation?”
“It can hardly be helped when there’s a damsel in distress,” he said, mocking me.
“You’re not a knight in shining armor; you’re someone’s confession.”