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“What’s up?” He sounds tired, and I realize it’s almost 1:00 a.m. What was my girl doing at the office so late?
“I’ve got a job,” I reply, eyes still glued on the door. He doesn’t question it. “Personal or business?”
“Personal.”
“Oh, who is he?” He sounds interested.
“She.”I huff, already knowing I’m going to get shit for this.
He hums, and I can hear his sigh. “You know we used to use our skills to control the Society. Now you’re stalking a girl? Talk about using your power for evil.”
“It was always evil,” I say, voice low. Dangerous. There’s a stillness in the car that transcends down the line to my brother. We’d both learned young the cruelty of being the Lords of the Order of Saints. I’d nearly lost him, and I turned into Satan himself, giving up a piece of my soul to get him back.
My brother clears his throat. “So who are we stalking?”
“My future wife.”
Chapter 2
Misty
My footsteps echo through my apartment building’s stairwell, bouncing off the salmon-painted cinder-block walls, keeping time with my rushing heart. There’s a buzz under my skin that matches the flickering overhead fluorescent lights. By the time I clear the steel doorway on the fourth floor, my breath comes out in sharp pants, and I have to take deep lungfuls of air to keep myself from hyperventilating.
Every second of what happened in the conference room has played on repeat in my head.
I’d just stood there,frozen in place, watching his hand, the way his tip glistened, until he parted my lips and the taste of him filled my mouth. It snapped me out of my daze and doused the rapidly building heat between my thighs with ice-cold water.
I spent the entire ride here trying to justify what happened, like maybe it was some weird hallucination and I’m just having a psychological breakdown. Or I’ll wake up from a month-long coma only to find out all of this is just in my head. Because there is no possible way I stared at my boss getting head from another woman and got wet off it.
On top of that, we don’t even like each other. The first day as the PR rep for the Boston Bruins, I’d walked into the office, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with an overwhelming sense of pride that I’d landed the job. There had to be hundreds of applicants, but I’d gotten it.
Only to be completely deflated by Damon Everette. He didn’t miss the opportunity to let me know three of my closest friends, who play on the team, had influenced me being hired. He’d taken one look at me, his eyes narrowing on the green, blue, and purple block pattern of my dress, then my pink, shoulder-length hair, and made a snap decision. Clearly not a positive one since the only thing he said to me was a clear shutdown.
Then, he’d disappeared for months.
So why was he at our meeting, today of all days? The day I was presenting my new plan for the season’s advertising schedule, the pitch I’d painstakingly practiced for hours.
I was prepared, notes in hand, perfect PowerPoint loaded, and then I walked into that conference room, and my stomach plummeted at the sight of him.
Head down, flicking through his phone looking like he would love to be anywhere else but there. Good. I didn’t want him there either, but sure enough, his gaze met mine, and he gestured to the front.
He proceeded to pick apart every aspect of my plan. I swear he was doing it to antagonize me. At one point, the corner of his lip curved up into the hint of a smirk, and I thought I was going to lose it.
I take pride in my ability to keep control over my emotions, to push anything negative down and present the world with a positive face. So, tell me why he had my fist clenched at my sides and the muscles in my neck straining so hard I swore it would give me a migraine. Pure rage tingled under my skin as he watched me, enjoying every second of my misery.
That’s why it’s so hard to understand what just happened because there is no possible way that it was Damon Everette the Third—the king of condescension—who has my clit throbbing and my core aching like this. Not a chance that I just stood there and let him run his damp thumb over my bottom lip and across my tongue.
No, I’d have called for security, so… I’m circling back to hallucination.
“You okay? You’re looking a little flushed.” Gorie’s familiar voice comes from beside me.
I meet the warm gaze of my neighbor. I hadn’t even heard the stairwell door open. She must be on her way back from the late shift at the restaurant. It takes me a moment to realize I’m standing in front of my door, key in hand, but I haven’t moved to unlock it yet.
“A…all good here.” My voice sounds off, and she definitely notices.
She searches my face, then looks me over a little longer before placing both hands on her hips and smirking at me knowingly. “Who is he?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lie. We’ve been neighbors for the better part of a year now, and as two women living alone, we look out for each other.
