by M. J. Scott
He yawned, showing gleaming white teeth, then frowned down at the sheet between us. "Yes. I called her when you left the hospital. Said you needed some time to yourself."
"And she accepted that?"
"No, but I don't think she wanted to yell at her new boss just yet." He propped himself up on one arm and studied me, a long, lazy grin spreading across his face.
I ignored my automatic instinct to move closer to the smile. "That won't last."
"I had a feeling." His hand drifted down my side, warming the cotton and my skin.
I shimmied backward. "Oh no, you don't."
"What?" He tried to look innocent.
"You know very well what."
"I do?" He rolled onto his back and stretched. Pure beautifully muscled temptation. The only part of the sheet I'd left him lay across his stomach and upper thighs, spoiling my view.
No. That wasn't right. I didn't care about the view. I needed to leave. After all, we had work to do. Work he was paying me for. And beyond that, I had stuff to think about. Stuff that needed serious alone time.
"You know exactly what I mean," I said, trying to convince myself to sit up and get out of the bed before I forgot all those good reasons to leave.
His head turned toward me, followed by the rest of him. The sheet slipped and my pulse hitched.
"I'm a little slow," he said. "Sleep deprived for some reason. You'll have to spell it out for me."
"No beguiling me with sex," I snapped.
"You're beguiled?" His expression turned smug. "Already? Hell, girl, you ain't seen nothing yet." He hitched forward and the sheet gave up the fight, revealing he was more than ready for round five. Or was it six?
I'd lost count? Triple hell.
This man was definitely dangerous. I didn't do beguiled. Too complicated. Especially when the one doing the beguiling was someone like Damon.
I wriggled backward until I was balanced precariously on the edge of the huge bed. "Down, boy."
"I just want to make the most of this opportunity. In case it's a onetime offer." The pleasure on his face vanished. "Is it?"
I froze. Was he asking if we could do this again? Or giving me an out? Did I want an out? I should have wanted an out, because this was still a terrible idea, no matter how good the sex was.
I looked at him, temptation wrapped in nothing at all, thought about never having his hands on me again, then sighed. I just couldn't do it. Not yet. "Somehow I doubt it."
His delighted smile nearly stole my resolve. And haunted me all through the steaming-hot shower that failed completely to wash the feel of him off my skin.
"She's not even home," Damon said from behind me when we finally walked into my very silent apartment.
"Maybe she's asleep. She probably went gaming last night." Hopefully I was right about that. The silence was unusual. Nat normally hung around Saturday afternoon, either cooking up a storm or relaxing in preparation for a big night of competition.
His arms came around my waist. "Maybe she's out, and we're wasting a perfectly good opportunity."
I wriggled free. "Is that all you can think about?" I stuck my head through the door to the hall and saw Nat's bedroom door standing open. That would be a no to her taking a nap, then.
Damon came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me again. "Don't tell me you're not thinking about it too," he growled.
I tried to ignore the instant rush of heat. "I have other things on my mind." Like demons. And looking for the bug in the static.
"C'mon, Maggie," he coaxed. "There's a bed just down that hall, right? I showed you mine, you show me yours."
It was nearly irresistible. Damon's hands and mouth and body against mine. A place where I didn't have to think. Didn't have to deal with witches and demons or any of it.
Trouble was I'd been avoiding dealing for nearly a day. At some point, denial wasn't going to work anymore.
Damon's lips skimmed the edge of my ear and I melted. I wondered if I could justify giving in to him on the grounds of, um, grounding. But after the last twelve hours or so, I figured I was as grounded as I could stand. Bits of me that I hadn't felt in a while were aching—in a good way, but still aching.
Self-preservation won out.
I slipped out of his grip, shaking my head. "Nat could come home any moment."
"And she might not. Even if she does, what's the big deal? Surely you two have guys over now and then?"
I ducked my head. Right now wasn't the time to explain the rules of my sex life to him. Not when I'd already broken them as far as he was concerned. "You're not just a guy. You're my boss. And hers."
"I'm not just your boss."
I sat down on the nearest chair with a bump. What did that mean? And how did I feel about it? "You're not?"
"You have to ask that after last night?"
I nodded. "Because it was only one night. What are we supposed to be now?"
He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "I hope, at least, that I'm now more than just the guy signing your paycheck."
Hopefully my cheeks weren't as hot as they felt. "We still need to find that out. And the fact that you are the guy signing my paycheck complicates matters."
"Are you saying you want this to be done? Or to quit?" His voice had turned a little chilly. It made me want to do something to get the sexy Damon back. That impulse was enough to make me even more confused about what was going on.
"No." I sighed, my thoughts spiraling around and getting me nowhere. Too much to think about. Too many changes. "But this is why we need to take things slowly."
"Isn't it a bit late for that?" he said, lifting one dark eyebrow.
I refused the bait. "I mean, we both need to think about this. Work out how we feel."
"What's to think about? We were fantastic."
I pushed to my feet. "Great sex isn't a relationship. And great sex with your boss tends to be career suicide."
"Who has to know?"
"Are you kidding me? You're the exact opposite of low-profile. We start doing this on a regular basis and it's going to get out, even if we try to be sneaky."
"Would it be so terrible if people knew?" He was sounding chilly again. Chilly and slightly confused.
"That depends. I have a professional reputation to protect. I need the people I work with to respect what I do, not think they can sleep with me or get to the guy I'm sleeping with. So in this case, no, just great sex isn't enough."
He rubbed a hand over the stubble lining his chin. "You want more?"
No. Yes. Who the hell knows? My neck muscles ached. Much more of this and I'd be back in serious headache territory. "What I want is time to think. I don't know more than that. I've only known you just over a week. And it hasn't exactly been a normal week." I stopped myself before I could add, “And you don't even know everything about what happened.”
This was definitely not the moment to confess all. I needed time to get my head straight.
"Maybe you do this all the time, but I don't," I finished, hating the defensive tone in my voice.
"This? You mean sleep with people who work for me? No. I don't." He moved closer. "But you can't deny there's something between us." His finger traced my jaw and my breath caught. "Can you?"
"No," I said honestly, stepping back. "No. There's definitely something, but—"
His mouth twisted. "We fit. The way I see it, we can fight it or run with it. I think you know what I'm voting for."
I stared up at him in frustration. Easy for him to say. He ruled his world. There wasn't going to be any fallout for him if this went wrong. "Maybe this is why you're the big-shot billionaire and I'm not, but I just don't make up my mind that fast."
"You want a list of my pros and cons?" he teased. "Playing safe doesn't always get you what you need, Maggie."
Maybe not, but I'd fought hard for the safety and order in my life. I couldn't just be careless about this. "I don't need a list." Big lie. I was so going to drive myself nuts w
riting mental pluses and minuses in the next few days. It was a little scary that he saw that in me. "I just need some time. Alone."
The teasing light in his eyes faded as he held up his hands. "Okay. I get it. You need girl time. Call me when you're done thinking."
I blew out a breath as my stomach twisted. "Now you're mad. See, this is what I was talking about. You shouldn't be mad that I need some time after one night."
"I'm not mad. Just confused."
"Me too. And one thing last night proved is that neither of us is going to have an easy time thinking straight while we're together."
That earned me a small smile and my stomach eased.
"Maybe you're right." He looked down at his watch. "I should go downtown and check in with work anyway."
"I—"
"No," he said before I could finish. "You rest up. Your job will be easier if the other guys have had time to look at the filter first and see if anything looks weird. I'll see you Monday."
Monday? Why did that make my stomach sink? I'd gotten what I wanted, hadn't I?
Hearing the door close behind Damon, feeling my lips buzz where he'd dropped one last fierce kiss on me, I wasn't so sure.
"What stinks?" Nat said as she wandered into my bedroom around six.
I propped myself up on my elbows, glad she was finally home. I'd been driving myself crazy lying on my bed, bouncing between trying to figure out how I felt about Damon by myself and having mini freak-outs about demons. I'd tried doing some research, but the first few netfeeds on demon lore had made me feel even more freaked. I needed a distraction. Nat was always good for that.
"You're back," I said, a little too chirpily.
She looked at me for a moment, then wrinkled her nose. "Yes. And like I said, what stinks?"
"New bath oil. It's supposed to be relaxing." Now wasn't the time to go into demons and magical possession.
"Only if you've got no sense of smell," she grumbled, scrubbing at her eyes with one hand.
I sympathized. I'd had time to get used to the scent. Mostly. It was woody and green, but there were other stronger, less pleasant smells beneath those. I'd spent my prescribed hour in the bath seeing what I could identify in the mix. To my chagrin, I’d I only managed four ingredients. Sara hadn’t taught me much but she’d made sure I could identify common herbs and spices and oils. Mostly so she could put me to work mixing stuff up for her clients.
I almost hadn't gotten in when the smell first steamed up from the water. Sara used to make me oils to soak in when I was little. When we were having a good time. She told me they were to help me grow up strong and beautiful. God knows what was actually in them, but they'd made me feel special at the time.
Unlike Cassandra's scrub-the-demon-off-me mix. The heated rush of fragrance seemed to flow straight through me, leaving a choking mix of nostalgia and sheer dread at the thought of a demon riding me all these years in its wake. It had been the latter that had driven me to the bath.
Knowing why I was about to soak in this stuff finally brought it all home, and I'd spent a good five minutes crying and shaking before the feeling that I might never get clean again made me climb in.
I'd stayed in the bath until I'd turned pruney and the water was cold. Half an hour after I'd climbed out, I'd wanted to take another one.
Nat flopped down in the gel chair by my desk. "What happened to you last night? Damon was very mysterious. Are you okay?"
Argh. I put my head back down. What the hell should I tell Nat? “I slept with our boss”? Or “Hey, it's possible I've been under a spell as long as you've known me”?
"Damon took me out to dinner. Turns out scotch after surgery isn't a good idea. He let me crash at his place."
Her gaze flicked down to my wrist. “He said they removed your chip.”
“Yes. But I’m okay, really.” She looked unconvinced. “It’s not a big deal, Nat. One good night’s sleep and I’m good to go.” I hoped she’d take the bait and focus on the fact I’d stayed at Damon’s rather than ask me why they’d had to remove the chip. “Damon has excellent guest rooms.”
Just the fact I’d stayed would hopefully distract her. I didn’t want to get into the sex part.
Sure enough, Nat’s expression turned curious. "Really? What's his house like? What's he like?"
Time to change the subject. "Standard mansion. You know. Nothing to tell, really." Nat couldn't argue with that. Her family had its share of mansions. "What about you? Where've you been? You look wiped."
"After you got taken away, I didn't want to go home. So I went gaming with some of the Righteous guys."
"All night?" It wasn't unusual for Nat to play into the wee hours, but it had been a long time since she'd crawled home the following afternoon.
She yawned and then nodded. "Yes." She waved a hand in front of her nose, frowning again. "That stuff really reeks."
"It's not that bad. Where did you play?"
"They took me to this new club down by the piers."
"Branching out, are we?" Nat usually stuck to the upmarket clubs in the Haight.
Her eyes narrowed. "What if I am?"
Her tone was a fraction too defensive. Which made me wonder exactly how sleazy this new club might be. Between quake damage and the water level changes, the area around the piers was no longer a tourist attraction. Well, at least, not for tourists looking for wholesome family entertainment. The businesses that had reestablished themselves there were...well, those that were legal were the minority. But I was too tired for another argument. "Just asking. I didn't mean anything by it."
Her shoulders relaxed. "Good. You should come with me. You'd like it."
Not likely. "I think I'll lay off the games for a while. Yesterday was enough for me."
She looked at my arm, frown deepening. "Are you getting another chip once that heals?"
I hesitated. Dr. Barnard had seemed pretty adamant, but I wasn't entirely reconciled to being locked out of the interface for good. After Archangel, I wasn't that keen to keep gaming, but searching code was a lot easier with a chip. An advantage I wasn’t ready to entirely write off. But no way was I going to touch a chip until Cassandra could assure me there would be no demons involved—not that I could explain that to Nat. "I'm not sure."
Nat's eyes widened in horror. "You can still game with a headset though?"
"Maybe when I'm feeling better." Right now, the idea of any game was a scary proposition. Better to wait a while, see if my “plug in and let the weirdness begin” karma would disappear now that the bond to the demon was broken. If Cassandra was right about that. "I just need a day or so to rest. And you look like you should be in bed too."
"Yeah," she agreed. "Need to catch some sleep before tonight."
"You're going out again?" I was used to Nat pulling all-nighters, but I'd kind of expected her to stay with me like she’d done after my chip implantation. Or at least want to tone it down a little to be in top form for Righteous.
"You want me to stay here with you?"
Her expression was oddly intent. I didn't know whether it was me, or the aftermath of the surgery, or maybe that Nat was just tired, but there was definitely a weird vibe. Besides, if I was just going to crash all night, there was no point depriving Nat of her fun. "No, you go. I'm just going to sleep."
"Chill." She rose with another yawn. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
My stomach’s protestations about the lack of dinner woke me at midnight. Staggering out of bed still half-asleep, I found Nat in the kitchen, downing syncaf soda, something she only drank when she was expecting a long night in the clubs.
"Feeling confident, are we?" I asked, rummaging in the fridge for sandwich makings.
Nat frowned. "Huh?"
I tapped her can of soda. "The caffeine? You expecting a big night?"
"I'm just tired." She drained the can and tossed it at the recycler. "Anyway, I'm not the one with the caffeine habit."
Her tone was tense. I paused in my sandwich cons
truction. "Just asking. Chill."
She hitched a shoulder at me but didn't reply as she left the kitchen. A few minutes later, I heard the front door close.
"Goodbye to you too," I yelled at the door, annoyed at her attitude.
Sandwich assembled, I headed to the living room. Thanks to the nap, I didn't hold out any great hope of getting back to sleep any time soon. Channel surfing it would have to be.
Nothing grabbed my attention. Instead, my thoughts turned to Damon and how I could be wrapped around him right now rather than here by myself with only Oreos and chicken salad for company.
My hand crept toward my datapad several times, but I resisted temptation. I was the one who'd sent him away. It would be dumb to send mixed messages before I knew what I wanted. Much as my body protested, I needed time to sort out what happened last night.
And what I wanted to happen in the future.
Besides the obvious.
I killed another few minutes flicking through a couple of cycles of the available channels. Nothing.
Annoyed, I switched off the screen and curled up on the sofa, cocooning myself in my favorite throw.
The sudden silence wrapped around me, making the apartment feel too big somehow. As though the shadows had stretched the room so there were dark places lurking at the edges of my vision.
Perfect for something to hide and watch.
A shiver ran down my spine. "Don't be an idiot," I said firmly.
There was nothing in the apartment with me. There couldn't be. Still, I reached over to flick on another lamp and jumped out of my skin when the globe popped and died with a spark of light.
My heart sped into overdrive, banging in my chest like a bird startled into flight.
"Stupid," I muttered when I managed to remember how to breathe. Next time I saw Cassandra, I was going to have to ask her if there was such a thing as the electricity fairy and how one pissed her off. Because I was definitely having a banner week when it came to things blowing up in my face.
