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“You promise,” he whispered, “promise you’ll mark me tonight.”
He’d said the P word. Shit. “I promise,” I whispered it into the vanilla warmth of his hair.
He drew a deep breath that moved his bare chest up and down along my clothed one. My body reacted to it, whether I wanted it to or not.
Nipples hardening from the brush of him.
He drew back enough to see my face, and the look in his eyes was all male, and brought heat in a rush up my face. It sped my pulse in my throat. He was submissive, but underneath all that was something that could have been very dangerous, and it was there in his eyes now, that promise of disaster.
“Come to the club tonight, see my act, please.”
I shook my head. “I work tonight.”
“Please.” The please was more than just a word, it filled his eyes. He wanted me to see him on stage, surrounded by screaming fans.
Maybe he wanted to impress on me that even if I didn’t want him, others did. I guess I’d earned having my face rubbed in it.
“What time do you go on?”
He told me.
“I can catch some of it, but probably not all of it.”
He kissed me, hard and strangely chaste, and bounced toward the door. “I’ll need to see if my costume is ready for tonight.” He turned at the door with that eager look still on his face. “What if I turn furry, will you still mark me?”
“I don’t do furry,” I said.
He poked his lip out at me, like a spoiled child.
“You are so damn pushy, you do know that, right?”
He smiled.
“I don’t do furry.”
“But if I’m not furry, you’ll do it?” Something about the way he asked it made me suspicious, but I nodded.
“Yes.”
He vanished into the dimness of the living room. “I’ll see you tonight at the club.”
I yelled after him. “If there’s another murder, all bets are off.
Murder takes precedence over watching my boyfriend strip.” There was that word again, boyfriend.
I heard Nathaniel’s laugh trail down the stairs. It reminded me of another man in my life, who’d left me with a laugh this morning. I was just amusing the hell out of everybody today.