He wordlessly crossed the room and paused to lean over the dresser, bare ass hanging in the wind. It was too damn ironic to laugh over, because he was about to make good on the visual.
His throat tightened. He tried to work out the discomfort, rolling his head back and forth. Nothing helped. Right. And you know what else won’t help? Turning into a pussy. Schooling his face into a cold mask, he peered over his shoulder with studied casualness.
The sight of her kneeling on his bed, sheet pulled over her breasts, eyes wide, pissed him off. She had agreed. If there was an injured party here, it sure as hell wasn’t her. “You’re going to need to find someone new to feed from every night for at least the first month.” An internal fracture threatened to drop him where he stood. “Desire’s a good place to scavenge.”
Her mouth fell open at the same time she hiked the sheet higher. “Wait, what? Scavenge?”
“If you feed from the same guy more than one night, you’ll kill him. If you try to wait it out? Your instinct will force your hand, find the strongest life force for you, and then you’ll kill him. Might as well choose someone you’ll enjoy.” He blindly grabbed a pair of socks before shoving off the dresser and heading across the room. The image of her mouth around some stranger’s... His fists clenched, but he kept going. “I’m going to grab a shower. You know how to run the elevator.”
* * *
Bailey moved through a conscious fugue. Everything appeared monochromatic, sounded flat, smelled stale. Shoes dangled from numb fingers. She knew she’d dressed before leaving, but only because she’d checked on her way down. Twice. The elevator doors opened into the employee hallway. She stood there, undecided. They slid closed. If the car started again, it would be because Griff had called for it. She frantically punched the door open button, shoving herself through the doors the second they parted.
Seth caught her as she careened off the wall. “Hey, slow down. Olympic sprint trials don’t start for...”
Full-body shakes chose that moment to materialize.
“What happened?” He held her at arm’s length and looked her over.
He shredded me. Truth? Yes. But it hurt too much to say. Instead, she focused on the third button down from his shirt collar and shrugged.
He pulled back, stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets. “You okay?” Genuine compassion infused his words.
She squared her shoulders and forced herself to look up. “I’m giving my two weeks notice. Officially.” An aching void settled in her chest, secured by stout threads of despair. “I’ll put it in writing after my shift and leave it in your box.”
His eyes narrowed. “Come again?”
“I said I’m—”
“I heard you.” Seth rattled the change in his pocket. “I’m going to kill him.”
Bailey lifted her chin and peered at the ceiling. Tears escaped no matter how fast she blinked, trailing down her temples to disappear into her hair. “Don’t.” She managed a shaky smile. “I survived, didn’t I?”
Tender hands cupped her face and thumbed the tears away. “Yeah. You did. And that’s the most important thing.” He gently pulled her chin down a couple of inches so she faced him. “Don’t quit, okay? Not yet. Give it a little time.”
No doubt her smile was tremulous. “I should go.” When he shook his head, she forced a brighter smile and fought to keep her voice level. “You and I both know it’ll be more comfortable around here if I bow out.”
“Give it two weeks. If you still want to go, I’ll make sure you land on your feet.” The scowl he sported would have intimidated her three years ago. Now? She recognized it for what it was. He cared.
The realization was just another blow. She’d become a part of the family. Had carved out niches in the business, behind the bar and among the employees. It had taken a lifetime, but she finally belonged. Her chest ached so badly she started to pant.
“Hey.” Seth reached for her again.
“Don’t.” She moved out of reach. “It’s good. I’m good, okay? I’ll just—” Waving blindly over her shoulder, she backed toward the locker room. “I’m going to grab a shower and fresh uniform before I tackle prep.”
His audible sigh said he saw right through her.
Whatever. She hit the door at a run.
Seth understood what she hadn’t been able to say, that she couldn’t live through watching Griff “scavenge” night after night. Just the thought of getting through the next two weeks made her sick.
The moment the door swung shut, she called out, “Anyone in here?”
No answer.
Bailey sagged against the countertop as hard sobs wracked her body. Mouth open, cries silent, she realized she’d never known a heart could truly break. She did now.
She wrapped her arms around her middle and cradled herself. No more casual untruths. No more excuses. She’d spent three years painting her desire for Griff with broad, careless strokes that never forced her to focus on the details, and there had been so many. She’d tried to ignore the dimple in his left cheek when he smiled, his generosity, the way her heart tripped in her chest when he looked at her, the errant flip of hair over his forehead and how she stopped breathing every time they touched. There had always been plenty of time for the little things, those details.
She’d been such a fool.
The dichotomy of the situation wasn’t lost on her, that her last memories of him, her most vivid memories, were rich with those very details. But they weren’t details she wanted to remember. She didn’t want to recall the smell of his cologne, the taste of his skin or the sound of his voice in the dark. To recall them meant she’d miss them, and she would.
She hadn’t been brave enough to examine the canvas painted with her experiences. Instead, she’d lied to herself repeatedly, had told herself that the draw was only sexual while she continued to horde the details. Somewhere along the way, she’d fallen in love with Griff. She’d known with a kind of desperate surety that the lies she’d told herself would only hold so long.
Apparently this was the moment the dam broke.
Chapter Ten
Anxiety and contempt created a volatile emotional cocktail within Griff as he rode down in the elevator. His senses fired the second the doors slid open. A bass riff flirted with him. Untapped prana called him by name, a siren’s song of promise. “And those bitches are so trustworthy,” he muttered. Still, he moved toward the club’s main floor, hands loose at his sides, his gait fluid. There was no hesitation when he hit the door.
Hot bodies crowded the dance floor. Artificial smoke twisted and twined around long legs and defined arms as people moved to the music. Tables were full. Cocktail waitresses busted ass to clear the empties, take orders and haul drinks. Good to see their pockets full of tips.
The current song wound down. He shot a quick hand signal to the sound booth telling the guy to keep the music hard and fast. The DJ responded with a thumbs up. A hard drumbeat got the dance floor moving again.
Griff moved through the crowd and chatted up the regulars, pocketing a couple of phone numbers. Two hours later he had personally checked out everything but the bathrooms. And the bar. He hated the way his stomach shrank in on itself at the thought. “There’s always the Caribbean.”
A hard body materialized behind him. Hot breath and a familiar voice skated over his ear as he turned.
“You planning on bailing again? Because, you know, things are gettin’ real. It’s about time you split.”
He went chest-to-chest with Seth. This close, it was easy to see the embers buried in the black flames that were Seth’s pupils. Those embers didn’t show up until the guy got righteously pissed. Too bad Griff wasn’t in the mood to discuss feelings. “Nice. Eyes.”
Seth smiled, cold and deadly. “Compliment me all you want. It still won’t get me in bed with you.”
/>
The crowd around them had stilled, their morbid fascination acting like some cosmically fucked up reverse ripple effect that drew spectators in.
Griff leaned in so close his nose brushed Seth’s. “Man, you’ve got to stop using that as a taunt. Shit has to mean something to me before it’ll piss me off.”
The other man’s eyes narrowed, smile fading. “Then you ought to be one happy motherfucker, because I haven’t found anything yet that you give a shit about.”
A hard shove sent them stumbling away from each other. Dominic, head of security and fallen angel, or Nephilim, stepped between them, planted one plate-sized hand on each of their chests and stiffened his arms. “Unless you want to make this a threesome, and you guys know how much I love threesomes, you need to take this outside.”
Griff swept Dominic’s arm away. “I’m good.” He glanced at Seth. “And we’re done.”
In typical fashion, the unflappable fallen angel arched a brow and grinned. “Glad to hear it. I’d hate to have to kick your ass then ask for my paycheck. Aaaawkward,” he singsonged.
Seth stepped back but never took his eyes off Griff.
“We’ll settle this later,” Griff said through gritted teeth.
The current song abruptly cut off, and the DJ’s sultry voice came over the sound system. “Looks like you guys are in for a treat tonight.” Sharp whistles and a round of cheers went through the crowd. “Got a song request, sweetheart?”
Griff followed the other men’s stares. He couldn’t see over the sea of people from his doubled-over position, so he slowly rose to his full height. All his earlier efforts proved for naught as he found himself facing the bar.
Customers were stacked three and four deep from one end to the other. Most of them were men, and almost all were waving money. Another cheer went up, louder than before.
Like a phoenix rising from the ashes of the mundane, she unfolded. Fresh and beautiful and brutally sensual. Long legs appeared even longer in the tiny uniform shorts. Her company T-shirt had been knotted so high that the edge of her bra peeked out when she moved. That thick tangle of hair had been pinned up with...stir sticks? He snorted. Then she pulled the impromptu pins free.
He wanted to blame the breathlessness on his argument with Seth. He wanted to blame the ache in his chest on heartburn. He wanted to blame the choking emptiness in him on...on... Shit. He’d settle for any explanation, no matter how absurd. But Griff knew better. “Bailey.”
He hadn’t realized he’d spoken until Seth moved to stand beside him. “Hurt to look at her?”
The denial hung in his throat. He ran his hands behind his head and pulled until his arms shook and his neck strained. “Yeah.”
The djinn crossed his arms over his chest, eyes on the crowd at the bar. “Good.”
Dominic moved in beside them before Griff could think of an intelligent comeback. “Any reason I should pull her down?”
Griff said, “Hell, yes,” at the same time Seth answered, “No need.”
Bailey chose that moment to turn her back to the crowd and swivel her hips.
Griff’s jaw hung slack. Lust punched through him leaving massive holes in odd places. Someone grabbed the back of his shirt. That’s when he realized he’d started toward the bar. Toward Bailey.
“Hey. You passed on her, remember? Seemed like it was a pretty clear thanks-but-no-thanks kind of pass, too.”
Griff shot Seth a hard look. “You talked to her?”
“Tried. She wasn’t interested.” His eyes narrowed dangerously, and his next words were so harsh and low Griff had to lean in to hear him. “Kind of impossible to miss the fallout, though. Grief has a truly awful sound.” He shook his head and looked across the crowd, eyes unfocused. “You had a chance, a real chance, and you pissed it away.”
The same thought had haunted every second of every minute of every hour that had passed since Griff had sent her away. “Maybe.” At Seth’s bland stare, he dragged a hand down his mouth. “Probably, okay? I put my Google-fu to work this afternoon after...well, after. Her prana left me feeling better than I’ve ever felt. Found out an incubus and succubus can sustain each other exclusively, but finding a pair that can be true to each other is less likely than finding an honest politician. No records of long-term anything, though. Only legend.”
Seth gaped, and he never gaped. “What did you just say?”
“I screwed up. Should have done my homework earlier. It only proves I don’t deserve her.”
Seth grabbed him by the front of the shirt and hauled him around. “You stupid son of a bitch. Don’t you get it? Love isn’t about deserving or not deserving. It’s about taking a risk and betting against the house and seizing the moment. It’s roll-up-your-sleeves dirty. It’s emotionally boggy ground. And it’s the only thing that stands even a remote chance of making this life less lonely.”
Griff stared at Seth, dumbfounded. He frowned when Seth’s face went blank. “You just had a stroke, didn’t you?”
The man released him and stepped back. “Looks like you don’t need to worry about it.”
“Huh?”
“Love.” Seth tipped his head toward the bar. “She’s headed to the dance floor.”
If Griff wondered how the look on his face translated, the way the people nearest him scrambled away provided a pretty universal interpretation. It took only a second to find Bailey because she’d taken the bar show straight to the floor. He watched her move against the stranger. Hands above her head, she rubbed her ass against the guy’s zipper.
“Girl can sure as hell move.” Seth unabashedly adjusted his cock.
“I can’t do this.” Griff turned away.
“Can’t do what, exactly?”
“This.” He gestured blindly over his shoulder. “I have to do...something.”
“Looks like it’s now or never.”
“Huh?”
“She’s with another guy on the dance floor.”
There was only one reason she’d be with the guy.
She was going to feed.
* * *
Bailey moved against the stranger’s body, trying desperately to lose herself in the music. No thinking, just experiencing. She didn’t know how else to survive what had to happen.
The guy slid his arms around her waist and ground his erection against her. She hadn’t done more than glance at him, but she found herself hoping for his sake that he was good looking. Otherwise? His sweaty, groping, rhythm-challenged self didn’t stand a chance with a normal woman. Which she wasn’t. Not anymore.
No thinking. She blindly grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the exit.
“What’s the rush?” he shouted.
“Dying to get in your pants.” How miserably true.
He yanked his hand from her grasp.
A hard shove sent her sprawling.
“Better be hella good-looking or his genealogy chart just flatlined,” she grumbled, pushing hair out of her face as she stood. It didn’t really matter what he looked like, though. She couldn’t go through with this. “Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t—”
The music shut off. She paused. The crowd had closed ranks and gone still. Seth’s leviathan form knocked people aside as he headed toward her. And where Seth was, so was... She turned with a sense of horror and heartache.
Her jaw dropped. Griff, typically cool and aloof, had the guy by the throat, their faces inches apart. “Touch her again and I’ll make sure you’re shitting in a bag before sunrise. We clear?”
“Don’t.” What should have been a command came out flat. Only the residue of pride she managed to scrape together helped her meet Griff’s gaze when he looked at her.
He tossed the guy away before taking a step toward her.
She stumbled away, hands held out. “You have no rig
ht.”
“I’m seizing the moment.”
“What moment?”
Another step toward her. “This one.”
Seth’s voice whispered past her ear. “Roll with it.”
She glanced at the djinn, an irrefutable friend. He nodded. Turning, she sucked in a breath. Griff stood mere inches away. The smell of his arousal saturated the air. So that’s all this is. “I danced this dance, Griff. Never again.”
He flinched. It was a small reaction, but undeniable all the same.
Seth cleared his throat.
“I’ve got this,” Griff ground out. “You can stop mothering me.”
Seth shook his head, one corner of his mouth curling up. “I’ll stop mothering you when you grow up. Until then? You’re stuck with me.”
Griff rolled his eyes before refocusing on Bailey. “Don’t leave with him.”
The crippling hurt, the one that had been there since he walked away, intensified. Could a broken heart make someone bleed out? “I have to go,” she croaked.
“Choose me instead.”
Traitorous tears slipped down her cheeks. “Don’t do this to me.”
He held out a hand. “Please.”
She took a steadier step back, shaking her head. “No.”
Griff closed the distance between them and took her face in his hands. “I’m begging.”
“Not good enough.” She met his unguarded gaze, left her own pain undisguised.
“I’m...I’m so damn sorry, Bailey.” He rested his forehead against hers.
Looking at him proved too hard. An overwhelming need arose, a need to believe in him. Trust him. She wanted the kind of security that chased phantoms from dark corners. The kind of blind faith that never withered, only strengthened. He could give her all of it. Probably. Thoughts and feelings bombarded her. In the end, finding hope proved too hard. “‘Sorry’ isn’t enough.”
Lips brushed her cheek, feather-light. Tentative. Seeking.
“Don’t do this to me,” she repeated. Her voice shook almost as hard as her heart.
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