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)
Her lips kicked up. “You say that so grudgingly.”
Luka only grunted.
“It’s pretty normal for demons to react weirdly to their anchors taking mates.”
“It is, yes. In my case, it wasn’t jealousy. That isn’t an emotion I’m prone to feeling.” Though, admittedly, Luka didn’t like that another male had a deep, strong connection to Naomi. “You said that Tobe isn’t jealous of your involvement with me. You two never slept together?” he asked, since it wasn’t uncommon with anchors.
Naomi hesitated. “Did you and Ella ever cross platonic lines?”
Luka felt himself squint at her evasiveness. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I will if you’ll answer mine.”
“We did it only once. It was a long time ago. Your turn.”
Naomi’s hand flexed slightly around her glass. “Tobe and I slept together a couple of times, but that was years ago.”
As something very dark swirled low in Luka’s belly, Dagon rushed to the surface and complained, “The imp should not have touched you.”
Her eyes widened. “Why not?”
“Because I do not like it.”
“Luka slept with his psi-mate.”
“Irrelevant.”
Naomi felt a tired sigh ease out of her. Entities could sometimes operate on a whole other kind of logic. One that was often childlike in its entitlement.
“Did your demon touch him?” Dagon asked.
“No.”
It studied her closely for a few moments. “You are telling the truth. Good. Never lie to me. I will always know.”
She smirked. “No you won’t. And that bothers you.”
It grunted and then subsided, its black gaze quickly returning to Luka’s own dark eyes.
“Dagon is a pure grump, huh,” she muttered, amused.
Luka drank from his glass. “It feels chronically inconvenienced by life itself, so it’s often in an unpleasant mood.”
“Right now, it isn’t the only one,” she said as her peripheral vision was snagged by something. “That woman over there is giving you the stink eye. Like you betrayed her.” It was making Naomi’s demon want to throw something at her.
Luka’s brow furrowed. “What woman?”
“The waitress at the bar. Ella said her name’s Draya.”
He looked close to sighing. “There was no betrayal. But in her view, some light flirtation was a firm promise that I’d be making a play at some point. She considers herself an injured party even though she admits that I did nothing to lead her on.”
Naomi felt annoyance skitter through her. “It pisses me off when people do that. So many act like they’re entitled to more from you just because you let them buy you a drink or joked around with them or whatever.”
“You’ve had to deal with that?” he asked, a stiffness to his voice.
“Yup. Then I was often called a bitch or cock-tease for turning down what they offered. Everyone has the basic right to say no. I don’t know why some people struggle to grasp that.”
Anger glittered in his gaze. “Tell me who did that to you. Give me names. I’ll deal with them.”
“Kill them, you mean?”
“Same thing.”
“No, it isn’t. And it’s a reminder that I should be careful when agreeing for you to ‘deal’ with things.” She cast Draya a quick glance, finding the waitress now focused on the bartender. Good. “I would’ve thought she’d quit her job if she’s so deeply unhappy with you.”
“The tips here are good, especially in the VIP area,” he said distractedly, his eyes tracking the movement of his fingers weaving into Naomi’s hair. “Just ignore her.”
“That’s what Ella said.”
“You should listen to her.” Luka leaned into her. “Draya is my employee—nothing more. I don’t want her. Why would I want other women when I have my pretty little plaything?”
“Why indeed.” Naomi hummed into the light kiss he planted on her mouth. “Is she part of your lair? I only ask so I know what Prime might get upset with me if I end up scalping the bitch.”
Luka’s lips twitched. Oh, he thought she was joking? Yeah, no.
“She belongs to Maddox Quentin’s lair,” he clarified, referring to Raini’s mate. “Have you always been part of Jolene’s?”
“Yup. For which I’m glad. Imps aren’t the most ethical of beings, but they’re funny as fuck. My childhood was a happy one.”
He angled his head slightly. “How long have your mother and stepfather been a couple?”
“Since I was a toddler.”
“And your biological father?”
Don’t tense, don’t tense. “He pops in and out of the picture every few months,” she said with a blasé shrug.
“I suspected he was around.”
She stiffened a little at that. Forcing her muscles to relax, she asked, “Why?”
“A lot of people whose stepfather played a huge part in their lives would call him Dad, especially if they loved him. I can tell by your tone of voice when you speak of Alfie that you care for him deeply and consider him a father figure. But you refer to him by his name.”
Naomi narrowed her eyes. “Have I mentioned before that I don’t like how observant you are?”