Fangs, Fate & Other Bad Decisions novel Chapter 14

Chapter 14

“Don’t you ever do that again,” I say softly, but with no less vehemence as I glare down at her where she’s trapped between my arms like my prey.

in front of my

I have been feared for centuries. Rulers have knelt before me. And yet, this women? This mortal? She thinks she can reprimand me in employees and live?

I get ready to unleash my wrath on her, but something suddenly stops me,

She’s not looking into my eyes like usual when she wants to defy me. Instead, those beautiful jade eyes of hers are locked on my mouth. There’s a dazed look in their depths that has me believing she’s imagining or fantasizing about something. Interesting.

I inhale, intent on going off on a tirade so she won’t dare ever defy me again, when a unique but intoxicating smell attacks my senses and turns me feral. What is that?

The initial scent is of vanilla pods sautéed in brown butter rich, decadent, and sweet. It’s followed closely by warmed jasmine, as if the flowers were steeped in warm water over an open flame – spicy, halmy, and heady. It calls around my senses, luring me in like the first sip of an utterly irresistible forbidden brew.

Realization hits me like a runaway freight train–it’s my Little Menace’s arousal.

I barely register when she shakes her head slightly before asking. “What?”

I answer her, just about remembering what we were talking about, but there’s no heat behind my words when I say, “Don’t you dare speak to me like that again in front of my employees.”

My eyes are locked on her mouth when the uptick in her heartbeat floats to me, and her intoxicating smell intensifies. All conversation is forgotten as we stay rooted in each other’s orbit. Either one is too stubborn or too stupid to be the first to move. Whether toward the other, or away from them.

It could only mean one thing if I can smell and hear her. And that thought alone makes my jaw clench and my fangs ache, She’s intimately thinking about me.

I need to focus on something else. Anything else. Maybe the coffee machine, or a speck of dust. Anything to stop looking at her mouth, because I’m a hairsbreadth away from forgetting my restraint and sinking my teeth into her.

It’s as if our bodies have a mind of their own as they slowly start drifting towards each other. Our noses almost touch, but I can’t take my eyes off her luscious lips. And when the tip of her tongue darts out to wet the bottom one, my hands clench into fists where they’re still resting on the

counter next to her.

The tension Gilling the room is equal parts suffocating, alluring, and dangerous. I feel my fangs start to slowly lengthen, no longer able to fight their animalistic urge to flaim her.

Her hands, which were unmoving against my chest until now, inadvertently twitch, and I am barely able to breathe. Even though there is a thin layer of material between her skin and mine, it’s a moot point. Her heat sinks into me where we are connected, seeping into my veins, and makes its way to my undead heart,

Her touch is like a branding iron, laying her claim on me without her knowing what she’s done or what she’s set in motion, I will never let another woman touch me ever again, even in the most innocent of ways. From now on, my Little Menace’s hands will be the only touch I will crave, welcome, and thrive on.

On the verge of saying “fuck it and crushing my mouth against hers, her phone suddenly rings in the living room. The sound is startling and invasive, instantly severing the magnetic pull controlling our bodies, minds, and souls.

She startles and makes the cutest (Cure? Since when do I find something cure?) squeaky noise as she jumps between my arms and breaks eye

contact.

Realizing that the moment is over, I lean away from her, giving her the space she needs to go and look for her phone.

As I watch her leave the room, shaking her hands out like she’s trying to get rid of how I felt beneath her palms, my smirk is one of satisfaction

I know what you sinellike when you want me? I’m never

My protective instinct goes into overdrive when I see her back stiffen and a scowl mar her beautiful face when she sees whose name is flashing on the screen of her phone. I’m behind her before she can hend and pick it up from the side table.

Peering over her shoulder, I see the name “Steven” lighting up the screen, and I’m immediately angry. “Who the fuck is Steven?”

She ignores my question, but scowls at me over her shoulder in frustration before returning her attention to the phone that’s still ringing annoyingly in her grasp. If she knows what’s good for her, she will not answer another man’s call with me in the room. No, scrap that, the state. Or better yet, the country.

However, before I can issue my warning, she swipes the screen and lifts the device to her ear. “Steven?” she asks with obvious irritation, and my mood settles. Somewhat.

“Are you home?” a gruff voice says, as clear as if we were standing in the same room with us (vampire hearing, remember?). Who the fuck does this guy think he is to speak to my Little Menace like that?

“Why?” she replies, and I’m speechless. Why is she entertaining the asshole? Why is she not ending the call and destroying her phone into a million little pieces so he can never contact her again?

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