Piles upon piles of paperwork littered my desk.
How the fuck that still happened in the digital age was beyond my fucking comprehension.
But at least my desk wasn’t bogged down by ink wells, quills, and cumbersome parchment scrolls.
Those fuckers never laid flat.
And then a smile pulled at the corners of my mouth thinking of the similarities they had to my bonded.
She never laid flat either.
Sookie was an Olympian in the sport of fucking.
In fact, she’d earned yet another gold medal only a short while earlier.
But my mental trip down my lover’s lane located in between her thighs was interrupted by the two sharp raps on my office door before I could cross the finish line. Refocusing, my blood told me who was behind it and not needing to wait for any acknowledgement from me, the door opened and closed, with Sookie’s entrance into my office.
Just the sight of her made me hard, but she didn’t need x-ray vision to know what I was feeling. And she proved it when she wryly chuckled, “Given your mood, I thought I should knock. But unless you’re thinking about turning the dance club into a strip club, you’re not really concentrating on your work. So quit slacking off.”
Then tilting her head down and to the side, with her eyes looking under my desk, she added, “Or jacking off – and get to it. You still need to go and do your Batman before Bruce Wayne can come and save me from drunk tourists in the bar.”
“If I’m Batman, does that then make you Catwoman?” I asked with a small smile.
She’d taken to teasing me about my methods of keeping those like me in line.
But I would take Batman any day of the week over her other nickname for me.
Despite the authoritative title, I had no wish to be Inspector Gadget.
Taking a step closer, she let her hands fall to her sides and slowly inched her already short dress up her thighs, purring out, “Are you saying you can’t tell if my cat is all woman?”
Vaulting over the desk, I cutoff her giggles by putting my mouth over hers and backed her up against the nearest wall, denying, “Not. Even. Close.”
Having seen nothing that warranted my interference during my nightly patrol, I landed on the roof of the casino without a sound. As I made my way back inside the building, itching to get back to my bonded’s side, I could tell by distance she was likely on the ground floor. From her mood, I knew that she was focused.
And feeling equal amounts of disgust and amusement.
So she was in one of the bars or nightclub.
Our bond was barely six months old, but it was so much a part of me now, I could hardly remember a time when I couldn’t feel her.
But it wasn’t like I tried to very often.
I enjoyed our connection.
More possessive than pussified, I told my whipped self.
After our reunion of sorts, with the return of my memories, she’d returned to New Orleans with me. Now back on the payroll, billed as my personal assistant, it was merely a sham to hide her true purpose.
Being mine, while running the occasional telepathic interference.
It was the only way I could get the stubborn girl to agree to not seek out another job.
Apparently being a kept woman was akin to being an infected whore. At least that was how she made it out to be, but I already had a plan in the works to rectify that situation.
Surely she wouldn’t argue over being kept as my wife.
But then I never could tell with my fiery lover. She always managed to surprise me.
That fact was only solidified when I found her in one of the bars. Not the fact she was there. It was a Saturday night.
She wouldn’t be anywhere but.
But it was what she was wearing that surprised me. She’d changed her outfit since I’d last seen her.
Having ripped her previous outfit from her body, I’d left her with little choice not to.
But her pitiful excuse for a dress had garnered the attention of every male in the room.
I had seen eye patches that used more fabric.
Even those in my employ – who knew she was mine and how literal I took that interpretation – couldn’t keep their eyes off of her.
If they kept it up, I would remedy that problem.
They wouldn’t be able to gawk with their eyeballs in my pocket.
But I would allow them to ask Sookie where she’d gotten her dress, so they could buy an identical one to use as an eye patch.
I was a fair leader like that.
They at least had enough survival instincts to look away as soon as I entered the room and putting myself across from her at the table where she sat, I leered at her in a way that begged for a sexual harassment lawsuit and used the lamest of pickup lines be asking, “Come here often?”
It was a game we played. I would pick her up. Or she would pick me up. It made no difference.
There was never any loser in our little games.
“Nope,” she replied, popping the ‘P’ and acting unimpressed. And finally gracing me with her gaze, she leaned back and smirked, “I cum in the penthouse. Here, I work.”
“Work is boring,” I smiled, leaning towards her. “Tell me more about the penthouse.”
“It’s nice,” she offered offhandedly. “But I guess you could say it’s more like a university. I’m attending on a scholarship.”
“And what are you studying at this university?”
“Oh,” she coyly shrugged and said, “A little of this. A little of that.”
“Little?” I challenged, falling out of character for a moment.
“Of this,” she nodded and grinned. “And that.”
“Really,” I drawled out, wondering if anyone would notice if I fucked her right there in the bar. “And what is your favorite subject?”
Mine was sitting directly across from me.
Leaning forward and giving me an ample view of her ample cleavage, she licked her lips and said, “Clit 101. My Professor of Cliterature can be a real hard ass, but I can’t complain. The oral exams are to die for.”
“I hear you’re doing very well in class,” I smiled. “From what I understand, you’re quite the prodigy. The Mozart of Oral where others are only awkward elevator music.”
She snorted at my crass praise, but just thinking about her sucking me off had me growling, “So shouldn’t you be studying?”
“Can’t,” she smiled and leaned back in her seat, twirling her finger in the air. “Working.”
So I thought to provoke her by saying, “You are the sluttiest school girl I’ve ever met.”
“Thanks!” she smiled, knowing exactly what I was doing. “It was an honor just to be nominated.”
Fucking with Eric about fucking had quickly become my favorite pastime. I’d done it enough by then that I’d get the gold medal every time, but hearing something else coming from across the room, I did my best to ignore my Clit Professor and whispered into my hidden mic, “Redhead sitting at the end of the bar. The asshole to her right just slipped X into her drink.”
Clancy nodded at me and replaced her drink with a new one before either of them had even registered his presence, while Chow appeared behind the asshole and gave him a hand in leaving the bar.
And I knew he’d be getting a supernatural attitude adjustment on his way out of the casino.
They knew what I could do. Just like they knew I knew what they could do.
Gettin’ fangy with it.
But in the months since my return to New Orleans, with Eric and his memories restored, his supernatural staff had slowly come to accept me as one of them. Not that any of them would have dared to contradict him.
Anyone other than me, that is.
We were old pros at makeup sex now.
And it didn’t hurt that I could point them in the direction of willing dinner companions.
Even if their dates didn’t know they would be dinner.
A telepathic wingman was a good thing to have.
I casually sipped my drink and continued to scan the customers in the bar and casino, smirking at the amount of frustration Eric was feeling at the moment. If he had his way we would never leave his penthouse, but I was adamant about earning my keep.
Just because he’d been around for a millennium didn’t mean he shouldn’t join the present one.
I was still getting used to that whole blood bond thing. I could only assume it had something to do with the amount of vampire blood flowing through me, but my telepathic range was crazy now. I could track anyone in the building as long as I had an idea of where they were and I could block out anyone else I didn’t want to listen to.
And thanks to our bond, I could track Eric anywhere, so it was easy to keep tabs on anyone around him.
A fortunate byproduct that made it was easier to keep his business associates alive, if I wasn’t in the room to distract their thoughts.
One whiff of ‘Ew’ in our bond from their pornographic fantasies would be enough to send him on a rampage.
Both the mayor and I learned that the hard way.
But because I was ignoring Professor Licks-A-Lot, he was teaching me another lesson in Bonds 101 by filling ours with his lust. To look at him you would never suspect that he was moments away from shredding everything in his path to get to me. Instead he merely looked interested in our conversation.
With me, he could never quite pull off looking bored.
He was such a flatterer.
I would admit to being worried about how he would act when his memories returned, but as it turned out, I’d been worried for nothing. Now I had the best of both worlds.
Sweet Eric and Sex-On-A-Stick Eric were my nightly companions.
But knowing how much he hated my little nicknames for him, I tried to distract him from distracting me with his libido, by asking, “So how’d it go? Did you have to Go-Go-Gadget anyone?”
“Must you?” he asked, with a teasing exasperated sigh.
My own teasing smile answered him with an unequivocal ‘Yes. I must.’
“No,” he replied, sounding put-off by the fact he didn’t have to lop off anyone’s head lately.
I didn’t know whether or not I should feel bad for him about that.
But they played by their own set of rules, so it wasn’t for me to judge them.
And if they didn’t abide by their own set of rules, I knew it was the lone juror sitting across from me who would also be the one to execute them.
They knew it too, so – in a way – it was his own fault.
With his Bruce Wayne firmly in place, his eyes took in the room, while he said, “Things have been usually quiet.”
“You just jinxed yourself there,” I smirked.
I’d tell him to knock on wood, but vampires weren’t particularly fond of that natural resource.
After seeing what it could do to bitey vampires in dark alleys, I couldn’t say that I blamed them.
Lifting my drink from the table – a club soda because I was working – a sly smile came onto his face. One that had the ability to slide my panties down – if I’d been wearing any, that is – as he toasted, “Here’s hoping.”
Had our bond made him telepathic too?
Because from the look in his eyes, I would swear he was hoping my nonexistent panties had slid down, over vampire fuckery giving him and his other sword something to do.
‘Tell him we’re not wearing any!’
Shut up Betty!
Nobody asked you.
“Here boy! Where are you boy? Come to momma!”
If only my set of lips could whistle.
I’d done all that I could to keep her on edge all day long.
Thought nothing but inappropriate thoughts.
Filled her head with images of his head hitting the back of her throat.
Who said I couldn’t share?
And it seemed to have worked because I was salivating just as much as she did above me. For once – it seemed – we were on the same wavelength.
Which was why we were dressed in barely a scrap of fabric, and heels high enough to make me dizzy, while she casually stalked through the room and pretended she wasn’t searching the crowded nightclub for him.
But even if she’d been wearing pants, they couldn’t have burst into flames.
Too moist down here.
Why she continued to play these games with him, I’ll never know.
We wanted him.
He wanted us.
Why beat around my bush and act like they had better things to do?
She’d all but shoved him out of the bar, telling him he still had to make an appearance in the nightclub, so she could go back to work.
I showed her.
Two could play that game.
And work it, I did.
I recalled every image in her memory of him.
Painted vivid pictures of everything he’d done both to and with us.
Seeped every emotion those things caused into her veins.
Enough so that something other than emotions seeped into the seat beneath us.
Clean up at Table 9.
Bring a mop.
But what got her onto her feet and carried us into the nightclub wasn’t anything I had projected into her thoughts.
It was the thoughts from another tramp who had him in her sights.
That was the ONLY thing she would be getting him in.
But we weren’t worried. He was ours just as much as we were his.
We knew that.
But we were territorial bitches and he wasn’t the only one who could bare their teeth.
It wasn’t hard to find him. Nor was it surprising to find him already hard.
That bond thing was GREAT!
“Miss me?” he purred, heating up our kitty even more.
“Mmhmm,” she acquiesced, marking his body by rubbing hers all over him.
“Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s gooo!!!”
If I had a foot, I would’ve stomped it.
I wanted to go-go all over his gadget.
But the most I could do was sock her in her clit.
It was nearly as effective.
But instead of rushing us off into the wild blue yonder of their silk sheets, he pulled us out onto the dance floor.
Now wasn’t the time to be cutting a rug!
Now was the time for him to be cleaning our carpet!
“I take it you’re done working for the evening?” he asked.
She may have made some sort of noise in agreement, but I couldn’t tell.
I was too busy working it because my job was nowhere near done.
Maybe I could get her to give him a blow job to get things started?
Moving his gadget against our Gidget had me planting flags to warn of the high tide coming in, but both of them acted like they couldn’t feel the storm I was brewing, when he casually asked, “Anything noteworthy to report?”
“Not really,” she sighed.
Making me sigh with relief.
Because we’d never get any relief, if they decided actual work needed to be done.
But my swollen lips had spoken too soon.
I knew it when he froze against us, hearing her say, “Unless there’s a reason we should be worried about something called ‘V’?”
If only I’d been able to knock against his wood, then this never would have happened.
Because that was when it all fell apart. No longer feeling in the mood, they were just in a mood.
A bad one.
I stopped paying attention, knowing I wouldn’t be getting any attention any time soon. I didn’t know what this ‘V’ was, but I did know one thing.
It sure as hell didn’t stand for Victory.