What I had once considered a perk of my profession – the sometimes long spans in between jobs, giving me the freedom to do as I wished when I didn’t have a mission – I now hated.
With a passion.
Because there were only so many vampire and defaulted payments among them were few and far in between. The majority of my work stemmed from idiots making idiot children in secret, but even those seemed to go the way of the dinosaurs lately.
Seven long weeks had passed without me having to inflict so much as a scratch on anyone that would necessitate me calling for the Cleaner no longer named Gus.
Now known as Lola.
Even knowing it wasn’t her real name, I still clung to it, like a newborn kitten to a wet teat.
If I didn’t crave her so much, I would be disgusted with myself.
But now that seven weeks had passed since I’d last tasted her – talked to her – laid eyes or anything else of mine on her – I changed my mind.
I was mad at her for not just making me recall all things good, but for taking them all away again.
Because of her all other blood had tasted nearly unpalatable.
Since her sex with any other was as thrilling as being ten miles overdue for an oil change.
If I could find her, I would kill her.
By fucking her to death.
She was likely kinky enough to get off on it.
But even though she’d had my blood, I hadn’t been able to feel her once she’d left me in the hotel bed, with my mouth gaping open and the cool breeze of her departure sending chills across my still wet dick.
And I’d thought I wasn’t one for cuddling afterward.
I should have known by her scent and taste what she was.
Sex and candy.
For my kind, it was the equivalent of a stake and silver chains.
They were one and the same.
However she couldn’t have been a full-blooded fae. I would have drained her body and fucked half of the hotel’s guests if she had been. But even a hybrid was too tempting.
And for once in my long life, my skills as a tracker were moot.
Not only was she afforded the full protection of The Council – hunting her would be signing my own death warrant – I didn’t have a real name to go on. I didn’t know where she lived.
State. Country. Continent.
I didn’t even know which realm in which she resided.
It wasn’t until after she’d left me and my instincts to track her down surfaced that it occurred to me she was the only Cleaner I knew of to fulfill that particular role for The Council. Prior to her contract, the nearest vampire cleaning crew would be utilized. But with sunlight being a factor to our kind, using their services were always iffy at best.
So, if it had been a factor, we’d used Weres at worst.
There were others like me who worked for The Council as Enforcers of our laws.
Repossessors of our blood.
But we were scattered across the globe. There was only one of us for every continent, save Antarctica, so it wasn’t as though I had the opportunity to gather any gossip about her around the water cooler.
And the thought of her being claimed by any of them – in any way – was enough to make me see red.
Apparently kittens were just as territorial as their genetic ancestors.
Especially smitten ones.
But I’d called her for jobs as far north as Ellesmere Island all the way to south of Managua. So she could literally be anywhere on the planet.
It was no wonder I couldn’t feel her in my blood.
I supposed I could have called her contact number. It was a New York area code, but they could have transferred my call to Aschenputtel anywhere in the world.
However, despite evidence to the contrary – wet teat or no – I refused to admit I had been that whipped by her pussy.
No matter how perfect her pussy was.
Instead I’d been leaning towards going on my own mini killing spree to have a reason to call her.
Odin knows I wasn’t lacking the motivation.
And I needed the release the mayhem would afford me to have the second kind of release I would need once the cleaning lady got there.
But picturing her in a French maid’s outfit, with a feather duster in one hand and a cat o’ nine tails in the other, wasn’t doing me any favors.
However, despite my own unwillingness to not break first by calling her, she knew how to reach me. She’d had my cell number for five long years.
Five long years in which she’d claimed to have been waiting – for whatever reason – to fuck me.
And me her.
So I couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps it had just been about the chase for either one of us. The fact we’d been mutually satisfied by the time she’d left wasn’t in question. But the fact she’d both come to – on; around; and because of – me and then left on her own terms could have been why I still felt the need to hunt her down. I didn’t feel as though I was done with her yet.
And I liked to pretend there would come a time when I would feel done with her because being a slave to my earworm obsession wasn’t something I looked forward to.
But I was a Type-A personality and being in control was my thing. So the fact she’d been in control of everything in our personal dealings – to include my other thing – left me with mixed feelings.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but I was decidedly delighted hearing rumors of a new child being made in New Orleans. I didn’t normally care for the swampy south, but if it got me one finally dead vampire closer to her, I was okay with that.
So I took it as a sign the gods were smiling down on me when I received word my presence would be required at the upcoming summit before I could gain any ground in sussing out any fuckery in the French Quarter.
Politics had always bored me. Politicians even more so and I wore the autonomy my position with The Council afforded me, with all of the smugness of Donald Trump in a D-list celebrity filled boardroom.
But my usual disdain for the monarchs of the New World was set aside for once, with me now relishing the thought of them gathering.
Because history had shown at least one of them would be fired before the summit was through.
And then the Cleaner would be summoned.
Be it at the summit or on Bourbon Street, I knew I would be seeing her soon enough.
Arriving at the compound at first dark, I automatically took a moment to take in my new surroundings. The compound was one of several scattered across the globe owned by The Council, but this particular one was located on a small island in the middle of Lake Michigan.
None of us were keen on letting our resting places be known – even to others of our kind – but with a trial, a wedding, and the formal reception to follow all on the schedule there would be little choice but to stay in one of the available rooms, unless you were willing to go to ground.
An option I – or anyone else of stature – wouldn’t be keen to use.
But I would, if my hand was forced.
Hired Weres would keep watch during the day and the humans would be removed from the island before dawn, only to be brought back for breakfast at sundown. Locked doors and magically warded rooms were provided to keep us appeased.
There had never been an attack at any official assembly, so I wasn’t too concerned.
Making the assembly invitation only, made it so there were adequate accommodations for all of the visiting vampires and ferries were available to shuttle the guests to and from the mainland.
With my gift of flight, I had no need for their ferry.
I had another kind I was looking to board.
And thinking of her, I called out for my blood in the body of another – no doubt cuddled up in the pillows she’d been blessed with – hoping she would already be near enough for me to have a sense of her presence, only to find nothing.
So I forced my expression to remain passive, showing none of the disappointment I felt not feeling her at all, and instead tried to reason it away with the fact she’d only had minute traces of my blood. Millennium old blood or not, weeks had gone by and her probable ancestry was an unknown variable as to how much hold the magic of my blood would have in someone whose entire being was based in magic.
No matter how diluted her supernatural blood had been by her human ancestors.
However I did let my contempt show on my face when I was confronted by the genie, who had obviously been let out of his bottle to organize the affair.
Or – at the very least – let out on work release from De Castro’s hold on him.
“Northman,” he glared, not bothering to hide his own condescension.
“Pussy,” I greeted in return.
Bengal tiger or not, a cat was a cat.
Ignoring the insult – because really, he had no choice but to ignore it – he squared his shoulders and said, “I was told you’ve been registered to officiate marriage ceremonies.”
The chuckle fell from my lips before I could stop it, along with my affirmation of, “I have…”
But only because I’d thought it would be funny to make others address me as Reverend.
My mother would have been proud.
My father would have split his side from laughing so hard.
Sharply jutting his chin downward, like he was in the process of granting me one of three wishes, I waited for the accompanying blink that would pop my heart’s desire – the hybrid fairy blanket I was wishing for – onto my body.
Instead he explained, “The officiate who was supposed to perform the ceremony for Mississippi and Indiana’s wedding cancelled at the last minute. She has given her approval and said you would perform the ceremony.”
I’d known without any explanation who the she was he was alluding to.
Not my she – Ell-Oh-Ell-Ay Lola.
But her name was too long for me to want to spell it out in song.
She was not only the most revered of our kind, but she was the head of The Council, so there was no way I could refuse.
But I could toy with the cat, so I settled for that for now and began with, “I will require a ceremonial dagger, chalice, and formal robes.”
Then eying him with all of the contempt I felt, I tauntingly added, “And a lint brush, in case you’re shedding.”
Official gatherings of this magnitude were kept to a minimum. With our need to remain in the shadows, we couldn’t afford to congregate in large numbers often, but it was still astounding how much humans tended to overlook where the supernatural world was concerned.
And what they did notice was glamoured from their memories.
But with our secluded location, the threat of discovery wasn’t as high, so the mood of the crowd was less tense.
Or rather, it was as tense as any gathering would normally be when a trial was due to be held.
It was first up on the night’s agenda and was the one I was most concerned with. Not because the Queen of Louisiana was charged with the unlawful death of her newly wedded husband, the King of Arkansas, but because the animosity between the two states would surely culminate with a bloody ending.
As an Enforcer for The Council, whenever official gatherings were held, my duty was to protect them. The Ancient Pythoness traveled with her own guards, but it was a position I was familiar with, having protected her for nearly two centuries, before I’d felt the need to move on.
She had always been fond of me, so she had kindly offered me my current position, which appeased my wanderlust and fulfilled my occasional need to exact justice.
So when The Council filed into the room, I took my post behind and to the left of the Ancient Pythoness, with her current guard detail making room for me without complaint, knowing neither she nor I would have tolerated any posturing from them.
I would win a dick measuring contest of any kind.
It was yet another gift of mine.
But as the trial got underway, I found myself distracted. Instead of keeping my eyes peeled for any trouble, as the queen bleated about the nefarious motives of her now dead groom, I was feeling kinky.
In the form of The Kinks’ song.
And by that point, I wouldn’t have even cared if she turned out to be a guy in drag.
But that could be because I had firsthand knowledge that she was in fact a woman.
But even distracted by kinky thoughts of all kinds, my instincts at least hadn’t failed me, with my body moving autonomously of my mind to protect the Ancient Pythoness when Threadgill’s second in command and Louisiana’s main accuser – Jennifer Cater – made her move.
Had I been paying attention, perhaps I would have known the trial wasn’t going Arkansas’s way.
But I would have had to give a fuck first.
The stake Cater had come at the queen with fell from her hand before she’d ever reached the dais.
As did her head, falling from her shoulders, when one of the ancient Saxon brothers relieved her of it with his sword.
I wasn’t sure which one had swung their sword.
Like a cat was a cat – a Bert was a Bert.
But I would have applauded if I could.
Because now the Cleaner would need to be summoned as soon as the verdict was handed down – which it then was – only moments later.
Louisiana was cleared of all charges.
I still didn’t have any fucks to give about her acquittal, but I had a huge fuck to give a certain cleaning lady when she showed up to take care of the bloody room.
I might even help her, if it would mean we could get out of there faster.
While the crowd dispersed from the room, my eyes darted around, looking for both a blond she-devil and a mop, when I heard a recognizable voice softly call out, “Northman.”
I didn’t need to see their face to know who had spoken.
Nor did she need to see mine – or any others’ – to know who was there with her.
“Your grace,” I returned and turned to face her, with all of the respect she was due.
The corners of her lips turned up slightly, with her amusement evident in her voice when she said, “You seem distracted.”
Only then did it occur to me she may have seen the cause for my recent distraction – all of it, from me touching The Council’s decreed Untouchable to my pining over a kinky pseudonymed Ell-Oh-Ell-Ay Lola – no matter how blind her milky white eyes were.
I had no idea how her gift as a Seer worked, but I knew it was strong for her to have had it when she’d still been human.
Bowing my head, I spoke with all of the reverence she was due, when I said, “I apologize, your grace.”
I wasn’t sure if she would think I was apologizing for being distracted or for touching their Untouchable, but at least I’d sounded sincere.
Even if I was only sorry for the former and in no way sorry for the latter.
Because I would be touching her again, if given the opportunity.
“You are not the only one,” she replied cryptically.
I couldn’t even begin to guess what she was referring to.
I wasn’t the only one who had been distracted?
Was she referring to Gus-Ell-Oh-Ell-Ay-Ola?
Or did she mean I wasn’t the only one who was sorry?
And instead she was referring to Jennifer Cater?
After all, her actions had given way to a whole new meaning to, ‘Losing your head.’
But it made no difference because I couldn’t even begin to try and narrow down the possibilities by questioning the Ancient Pythoness.
And that fact brought about a now familiar sensation.
One where my mouth gaped slightly open, with a shiver of a different kind tingling its way down the length of my cock.
So I said nothing when she offered no further explanation and tried to be less distracted, as she began speaking to the other Council members about the trial.
Once the Ancient Pythoness had been safely escorted to her quarters, I returned to the main ballroom in the hopes of spotting the blond who held my balls in her silver chain.
Instead I spotted several Weres cleaning the remnants of Arkansas’s second from the floor and was confronted by a pussy I wanted no part of.
Thrusting at me all of the items I would need to perform the marriage ceremony I’d forgotten all about, I gave voice to my only plausible argument in the form of a snarled out, “You forgot the lint brush.”
With each of their ‘I do’s’ freely given, I used the ceremonial dagger to cut the wrists of their joined hands, with their blood flowing into the chalice underneath, being held by the pussy.
And I was still pissed the pussy I was craving was nowhere around.
But I kept my features unaffected, while each monarch took a drink of their combined blood from the cup before they kissed.
Get a fucking room already…
The thought of not fucking the one I wanted in the room I already had made me call an end to their mouth-fucking. Pocketing the knife, so I could thrust the contracts at them to sign, as soon as it was done, I announced, “The marriage is sacred for one hundred years.”
It would probably take me that long to get over my craving.
A full century at the very least.
But that thought only brought back to mind her probable heritage.
Would she live longer than the average human?
Perhaps not age at all, considering she was fae enough to be able to teleport.
Were my balls forever lost to me, held in the delicate hands of a fairy hybrid, with an earworm for a pseudonym?
I barely noticed when the reception started up in full swing.
There were sure-to-be glamoured donors on hand – glamoured either now or they certainly would be later – both male and female, wearing thin chains around their necks, with charms depicting their blood type.
There were also goblets of donor blood on offer from any one of several waiters moving through the room, with the large trays balanced in their hands. I knew from the aroma wafting from them, the glasses contained a relatively pure AB neg.
I was just as sure it would taste like raw sewage.
With my official duties for the evening already taken care of, I was debating on leaving when the band began to play a new song, just as I felt a quickening in my blood.
A flash of something…
Something like sex and candy.
It was gone just as quickly, but my eyes sought her out anyway and finding her just making her way into the ballroom, I found I only had more questions.
How could she control our supposed one-sided blood tie?
Why was she here now, when her anonymity was a key concern of The Council?
And how in the hell had she managed to get into that dress, much less glamour the band into playing her new theme song?
A blond she-devil, with the blue dress on.
If it could be called a dress.
I had pocket squares that were comprised of more fabric.
A scant few threads of silvery blue silk clung to her perfect curves, while she gracefully moved through the crowd, as though she were merely a dream.
A dream all of us were having en masse, given the way fangs were snapping down, like puberty driven peckers snapped up at a Victoria’s Secret fashion show.
Given the normal secrecy surrounding her identity, I was surprised she would show herself to so many of my kind.
But spotting the tiny mouse still residing in the spot my tongue longed to revisit, I forgot to pretend I wasn’t whipped by her pussy and didn’t give any other the chance to wonder if she was an available donor.
Available or a donor.
And even if she was, I wouldn’t allow her to be.
After all, it had already been decided a cat was a cat.
So of course this pussy-whipped kitten would want the mouse’s blood.
She needed no other adornment in my opinion – besides the body of a thousand year old Viking vampire to blanket her body – and deciding to rectify her fashion faux pas, I appeared at her side a second later. Wasting no time in taking her hand in mine, I led her onto the dance floor and then pulled her body flush against mine.
She smelled so much better than Chanel Number 5.
I didn’t care what the lyrics were.
Looking down into her eyes for the first time, I saw both the question and amusement in them, but knowing a room filled with supernatural hearing wasn’t the place to get any of the other answers I really wanted, instead I playfully asked, “What’s wrong, Lo…ver?”
Pseudonym or not, I didn’t want to say her name in a room filled with supernatural hearing.
But those same ears hearing me calling her ‘Lover’ was fine by me.
And thoughts of how well we tangoed in between the sheets made practically purr out, “Cat got your tongue?”
Her pussy could have mine.
All. Night. Long.
Having her so close again, my mouth was literally watering. I was hungry for everything I knew she could offer, but even with my body pressed against hers, I had no sense of her presence in my blood.
She was full of surprises.
And if I had my way, she would soon be full of me too.
Watching her eyes flick over to where the Were Genie stood watching us, I began making plans for a tiger skin rug, not liking the look of disgust on his face, when she looked back at me and said, “I’m allergic to cats.”
Then it was a good thing I was only a smitten kitten.
Just this once, a cat wasn’t necessarily a cat.
Leaning forward, she seemed cognizant of the fact we were the night’s E.F. Hutton – when we talked, everyone and their fucking brother listened – so she gave away nothing and everything about our connection to one another by saying, “Both of your heads are hard. You weren’t coming to me, so if I wanted the chance to cum hard enough I might actually black out this time, I figured I would have to come to you. Now, if I’m going to have any hope of getting your tongue in me or giving you a bath with mine, we need to get out of here.”
Then acting as though my engine wasn’t already redlined, much less revving, she purposely rubbed her body against my front and smiled with her taunting whispered words of, “On your mark…”
I had her halfway across the compound, with her back against the wall, as I stole the first of a thousand kisses I would be taking from her that night, before pulling away to heatedly smile back at her with my reply of, “Get set…”
The next thing I knew I was on my back, on top of the bed in my assigned quarters, without having moved a muscle.
Without moving a muscle that wouldn’t have involved me jackhammering the two of us the rest of the way there.
But I forgot all about my virgin voyage via fairy ferry when she ground her hips against mine and smirked against my lips, “Go.”
I took that as my go ahead to rip the clothes from her body.
Head to toe riot gear wouldn’t have slowed me down, so her threadbare threads were no match for me. Latching onto every inch of skin I could reach with my mouth, it would have been impossible to keep my fangs at bay. So I made no effort to retract them and instead used them to lightly scrape across her body, with my tongue greedily lapping up the tiny rivulets of blood my actions produced.
It was the equivalent of finding an oasis in the middle of a desert.
While my nutritional needs had been met, with what I would likely always think of as a piss poor substitute for her blood, even for her I wouldn’t have allowed myself to waste away. But for the first time since I’d last fed on her, I felt truly satisfied.
And yet not satisfied at all.
I doubted I would ever get my fill of her, so I appeased myself with the knowledge she seemed willing to let me fill her.
And I would fill every part of her as soon as I could find the wherewithal to remove my mouth from her skin.
Killing me one hip gyration at a time, she leaned back to put her hands on my thighs for leverage and my favorite twins on display, while she softly laughed out, “Is that a ceremonial dagger in your pocket or are you happy to see me?”
Starting at her ankles, my hands slowly slid up her legs and I felt the barest of imprints on different areas of each of her calves – scars so faint I hadn’t noticed them before – so I made a mental note to explore them further later on.
For now I continued on my upward trajectory to her thighs, with my thumbs gliding over her clit for just a fraction of a second to give her a taste of her own cockteasing medicine before I wrapped each hand around her hips.
Thrusting my still covered cock against her center, I used every shred of willpower I had to sound completely unaffected as I casually asked, “So what have you been up to?”
Digging her nails into my thighs, she returned my thrust with her own, saying, “This…”
And before I could formulate any thoughts on the thought of her doing this with anyone besides me – hypocritical, I know, but my few attempts at fucking her out of my head had epically failed, so they didn’t count in my just as hypocritical book – she swiveled her hips and flung her body forward, catching herself with her hands on my chest and began undoing the buttons of my shirt, ending with, “And that.”
And so it began.
Our game of ‘This and That.’
“This…this is good,” she’d chanted when I’d sat back on my calves and held her above me, pulling her body down as I thrust up into her over and over.
“That!” she’d yelled into the mattress, when I had her face down and ass up, with me slamming into her from behind as I left a pink handprint on her left cheek.
Her demands of, “Do that again!” were met with a matching one on her right.
But she gave as good as she got.
My eyes rolled into the back of my head feeling her teeth scrape across my chest and settling over my nipple, she bit down, with her smile coming through in her tone when she said, “You like that.”
Riding me, like a Wild West posse was hot on her trail, she pulled my head to her neck and pressed her carotid against my fangs, asking, “Is this what you want?”
The answer had been, yes.
We kept going until I felt dawn’s approach, but fucking the night away hadn’t been enough for me.
But by fucking the night away, there wasn’t enough time for me to get any of the answers I wanted from her. And hoping I would get to see her sooner than later, I hoped to use the fact she was on top of me – and cum drunk – to get her to take more of my blood in the hopes a second dose would allow me equal footing in the blood tie she could somehow open and close at will.
It was only one of the thousand questions I’d amassed for her.
Taking the ceremonial dagger from where it had ended up on the nightstand, I cut a deep gash into the side of my neck and then sat up, which forced her upright with me.
Still being inside of her, I used it to my advantage by gently rolling her hips over mine and saying, “Take more of my blood.”
The challenging look she gave me in response told me she wasn’t as cum drunk as I’d thought, but burying her face against my neck in the next moment, I figured she wasn’t opposed to deepening our connection.
One that blew the doors off of the tiny tie we’d shared before.
It felt like I was literally underneath her skin, so I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have a permanent bond with her.
Not that it would come to that.
Unless our next game of This and That got out of hand when we came.
But knowing a gift horse when it was pulsing around my cock, I took advantage of our deeper connection by rolling her onto her back. Lifting her leg so it was perpendicular to my chest, I managed to get so deep inside of her, my next batch of cum would likely have glow in the dark sperm, like the fish in the deepest depths of the ocean, and brought to mind a quote I hadn’t thought of in quite a while.
The sea, once it casts its spell, holds on in its nets forever. – Jacques Cousteau
So used to being…well, me…I felt oddly at peace with the thought of being caught up in her for a while.
A good long while.
I had barely sensed I was rising for the night when her now familiar touch warmed the tips of my fingers, with her voice softly floating into my regaining consciousness.
Still coming to, I hadn’t thought to question how she had known I was rising for the night when I hadn’t moved a muscle.
But sensing the change of atmosphere – everything from the scent of the room to the barometric pressure of the air was different from when I’d died for the day – I forced my eyes open sooner than I normally would have.
And recognized nothing of my surroundings.
While she had left the room before I’d succumbed to daybreak – it was likely a photo finish tie between her departure and my death for the day – it hadn’t occurred to me she would have the means to enter my room while I was dead for the day.
No matter how she’d gotten us there the night before.
The compound was owned by The Council, so – in theory – only the best wards would do.
So – in practice – it was a good thing she didn’t seem to wish me any harm.
But I couldn’t help the accusatory stare I could feel on my face, when my eyes snapped her way. However, it – like my rising anger at being moved without my permission while I’d been dead for the day – disappeared hearing her unapologetically explain, “There was a bomb. I made a command decision. You’re welcome.”
“What?” I asked, not truly understanding. “What bomb?”
“The kind that goes boom,” she replied with a small smile. “As far as I know, it didn’t go boom, but I didn’t want to take any chances with the guy that can fuck me stupid.”
And once again making me wonder if she could read my thoughts, she was quick to put my mind at ease by adding, “The Council never resides at any of the compounds. They’re all safe. But I have no confidence in kitty or his crew to find anything that doesn’t have a blinking neon arrow pointing at it saying, ‘Here’s the bomb!’, so I popped you here.”
“And where is here?” I asked, having no idea where we were.
But the fact we were in a bedroom was giving me other ideas.
“One of my…safe houses,” she replied, staring down at our hands where she was still toying with my fingers with hers.
And hating myself for even caring – much less asking – I still questioned, “Do you normally take vampires home with you?”
It tasted like pure shit coming out of my mouth, so I gargled the bright side I found when I realized I could still feel her in my blood.
But maybe she was just allowing me to?
“Normally?” she questioned in return, lifting her eyes and gracing me with a small knowing smile.
And a just as enlightening shrug of her shoulders.
Luckily for her, she had really sexy shoulders.
Before her, I never even considered such a thing.
But then I had plenty of before her items piling up around my feet at every turn, so one more made no difference.
And lucky for me, I could tell she was toying with me.
Even so, I let the issue drop because really…throwing stones and glass houses, but I couldn’t help but point out something else that had been bothering me.
Something that I actually wasn’t just as guilty of.
And seeing the little mouse charm still sitting in its rightful place gave way to yet another earworm I had stored in the infinite playlist of my mind.
The Farmer in the Dell.
And it made me smile because, like the cheese in the song, in this she too would stand alone.
“Our footing isn’t equal,” I began. “You know who I am. You know how to contact me directly. For all I know, you could find me anywhere thanks to the blood we’ve shared and yet I can’t do the same. I don’t even know your real name.”
A name was a good place to start, I thought.
She trusted me to fuck her nearly into a coma, so trusting me with her name shouldn’t be that big of an issue.
Or so I thought.
So my eyes narrowed when she didn’t appear to be willing and said as much, seemingly trying to joke her way out of revealing anything by saying, “I’ve given you enough clues.”
My lips parted, but the argument behind them died before it could ever fully form. So I assumed her motive had been to distract me or that she was using her actions as a way to keep from having to explain anything, when she took the hand still in hers and pressed a soft kiss into my palm.
Feeling just as intimate as the kiss on the tip of my nose she’d given as a parting gift at our last encounter, it wasn’t any surprise when she gave me one last small smile before she disappeared into thin air.
But feeling just as cheated as I had the last time, I used that same hand to reach down to tear the covers away, so I could try to figure out where in the hell I was when I noticed something else.
Something written on the palm of my hand.
Something that looked like a phone number, lying just underneath the glossy imprint of her kiss, along with a single word.