Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Yeah, this imp definitely didn’t like the thought of Luka near his anchor—his protectiveness came across loud and clear. While Luka didn’t particularly give a fuck what anyone thought of him or his intentions toward Naomi, it would do him no favors to make an enemy of her psi-mate. So rather than convey that he owed the imp no explanations, he said, “One of my demons has been harassing Naomi. The least I can do is assure her in person that the matter has been handled.”
Tobe grunted, not seeming particularly appeased. He also planted his feet, making it clear that he wouldn’t be leaving. Disappointing. Luka had hoped to have more time alone with her. To be specific, he’d hoped to take her upstairs and explore every inch of her. Which Tobe had likely sensed for himself, hence his insistence on staying.
Luka would normally have taken a seat to indicate that he wouldn’t be leaving either. But he didn’t quite have a claim to Naomi yet. She hadn’t rebuffed his advances or disagreed over exclusivity, but that was the most he had right now. He needed verbal consent from her.
Plus, her loyalty was to her anchor. If he and Tobe ended up arguing, it would be Luka she’d ask to leave. He didn’t want that.
Refocusing on her, Luka said, “Remember to call out to me if Iain pulls anything.” I’ll be back very soon, he added telepathically, letting sexual intent color his tone.
Heat bled into her eyes, and she swallowed hard.
Satisfied that she wasn’t telling him to stay away, Luka swanned out of the house.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next day, Naomi parked her car in the lot outside a very popular nightclub. A club that hid the entrance to the Underground. And what was the Underground? More or less a subterranean version of the Las Vegas strip that was mostly exclusive to demons.
There were places to eat, shop, dance, drink, gamble, compete, and . . . well, pretty much anything. Demons naturally sought thrills and dopamine rushes, so this was a good place to not only enjoy downtime but open up a business of your own.
The Underground’s founder, Knox Thorne, was both the mate and anchor of Jolene’s granddaughter Harper. She happened to co-run Urban Ink and would be very soon giving Naomi her newest tattoo.
Naomi slid out of the car and let her eyes skim her surroundings. Several cars were parked nearby, but no people stood around. The club wasn’t yet open for business, so there wasn’t a queue of clubgoers waiting for entrance either.
Making a beeline for the building, she felt the spot between her shoulder blades begin to burn. Halting abruptly, she glanced over her shoulder. No one. There was no one. But . . . she could swear she was being watched.
After giving her surroundings one last visual sweep, she again headed for the club. Maybe Iain was following her from a distance so as to avoid being noticed. Dammit, she’d hoped that Luka’s warning would do the trick.
Luka.
Snippets of their conversation last night still ran riot around her brain. She couldn’t lie: being pursued by such a scorching-hot motherfucker who embodied a massively amplified bad-boy vibe . . . well, it was something of a turn-on. Call her weird, but she liked that he’d thrown out a declaration of intent. He hadn’t put out feelers to check if she’d be receptive first; he’d quite explicitly and confidently told her that he wanted her.
Her demon liked his boldness; liked that he wouldn’t be prepared to share her—the entity wasn’t a fan of flings that didn’t entail exclusivity. Not because it was possessive but because it felt that Naomi deserved to be the sole focus of whatever male sought her out.
While her demon wouldn’t fight her on allowing Luka into her bed, Tobe sure would. After the legion had left her home last night, her anchor had whirled on her and said, “He wants to nail you. You know that, right?”
“So aptly put,” she’d quipped.
“You don’t want to get involved with him, Nome. You’ve heard the rumors. It ain’t a secret that he’s an ice-cold motherfucker. He won’t be good for you.”
But she didn’t need Luka to be good for her—she wasn’t looking for anything serious or permanent. Better still, neither was he. She’d met plenty of people who held themselves apart from others, but most did it subconsciously. With Luka, it was deliberate. They could enjoy a brief fling—and she had the feeling that she truly would enjoy it—and then each go their own way. It was a far too appealing thought.
Well, a girl had to eat.
Inside the club, Naomi headed to the basement. The demons manning the elevator let her pass, at which point she began a long-ass downward ride. The contraption slowed to a stop, and the doors opened.