Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 127527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 638(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 638(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
“Two-way street, Black Beauty.” She gave him a prim look and dismissively slid her gaze to her window.
He let out a chuckle. “So, basically, I’m gonna have to up my game if I’m to win this wager?”
Her head whipped around to look at him. “What? No. No, you should just stop playing games.”
A slow grin shaped his mouth. “Why? It’s fun.”
“In your book, maybe. In mine, it’s simply juvenile.”
“Liar. You like tormenting me just as much as I like tormenting you. That’s why you’re not as worked up now as you were earlier.”
That was when it hit Larkin. Hit her like a slap to the face, making her lips part. “You instigated it to distract me because you knew something was on my mind.”
“And to give you an outlet. You needed one.”
She had. She really had. It was only at this moment that she realized just how much tension had drained out of her system during the evening as she’d mentally sparred with the male beside her. He might have weird ways of dealing with stuff, but they were effective all the same.
“I’m not going to thank you for it,” she told him. “As we’ve covered, I’m hot and bothered. That part I’m not pleased about at all.”
His mouth winged up, and she thought he might offer to do something about it; to take care of the itch—particularly since it would, in turn, take care of his own. But he didn’t make the offer. He didn’t even give her a suggestive look.
The oaths, she thought. He’d given Khloë his word, and he wasn’t going to break it.
Understandable.
Also frustrating.
But no doubt for the best, given his penchant for casual hook-ups.
Larkin had nothing against them, she simply didn’t find them satisfying anymore. Not emotionally, anyway.
When he finally pulled up outside her building, she took a good, long look out of the front window, sweeping her gaze over her surroundings. It didn’t seem likely that Holt would have stuck around, but she wanted to be sure.
“Okay, what’s wrong?” asked Teague, angling his body toward hers.
She blinked at him. “What?”
“As soon as I drove into the parking lot, you went tense as a bow. Now you’re in full-on hypervigilant mode.” His eyes darkened. “Are you expecting trouble of some kind?”
“No. Just . . . unwelcome company.” That was as much as she was willing to say on the matter.
He let out a long hum. Then he cut the engine and got out of the truck.
Her brows snapping together, Larkin slipped out of the vehicle. “What are you doing?”
“Walking you to the door.”
“I don’t need—”
“I’m a chivalrous boyfriend, remember.” He splayed his hand on her back and gently ushered her toward the building.
With a sigh, she let him, feeling pretty confident that Holt was gone. She’d have sensed if she was being watched.
When they reached the main door, Teague pinned her with a serious look. “You know you can reach out to me if you need anything, don’t you? I won’t ask questions. I won’t share what you tell me. I’ll just assist you in whatever way you need.”
Larkin swallowed, her chest feeling tight. “Khloë’s lucky to have you as her anchor.” And if he ever did claim a woman, she’d be lucky to have him as her mate.
“I know,” he said, all arrogance.
A smile pulled at her lips. “Of course you do.”
He dipped his head and brushed his mouth over her forehead. “Night, baby.”
Her stomach took an excited dive. Baby?
He shrugged. Thought I’d try it out. I like it.
Smiling, she shook her head. “Goodnight, Teague. Get home safe. And try not to piss anyone off on your way there just for something to do.”
“I promise nothing.”
Larkin was late arriving at Knox’s office the next morning. She’d taken a longer, more complicated route to the Underground, determined to be certain that she wasn’t being followed. It was unlikely that Holt would tail her like a damn stalker, but she’d needed to be sure.
Keenan sat at his desk, typing while frowning at his computer screen. Levi stood in front of the row of monitors that provided CCTV footage of the Underground, talking into his cell phone. Knox was lounging in his desk chair discussing something with Tanner, who sat in the chair opposite him.
They all gave her brief greetings as she entered before refocusing on whatever they’d been doing. Well, no one actually cared if any of them were late by a few minutes or so.
She intended to tell them about Holt’s appearance straight off, wanting to get it over with. Her demon snarled at the mere thought of him. It had calmed somewhat—mainly thanks to their friendly, neighborhood hellhorse—but it still longed to tear their joke of a psi-mate into shreds.
While she waited for Levi to finish his call, she shrugged off her jacket and then hung it on the back of her chair. She was about to make herself a coffee using the machine at the corner of the office near the water dispenser, but then Levi pocketed his phone.