She nodded too, but didn’t say anything.
“Why?” he asked.
She considered just letting the topic go, but then decided if anyone was going to believe her story or give an explanation for it, Killian was the person. After all, he made his living dealing with the supernatural.
“I—I just had a weird experience in the bathroom at that restaurant last night.” She told him about what had happened and what she thought she’d seen.
Killian didn’t say anything for a moment, and she wondered if maybe she’d made a mistake sharing the story.
Then he said, “If anything like that ever happens again, tell me right away.”
His tone was serious, very serious.
She lifted her head to look at him. “Do you think it will happen again?”
He studied her for a moment, his expression intense, even a little worried. Then he shrugged, all intensity gone, and she almost wondered if she’d imagined the other reaction.
“Not likely, but I like to know about these things.”
She nodded, confused. Was he worried or not? Or was he just interested because of his work?
“You know, I think I am hungry,” he said suddenly as he cupped his large hand around the back of her head and pulled her down to him, kissing her. “And I need to keep my energy up.”
She laughed. “Having trouble keeping up with me, huh?”
“Well, you are an imp. And they are notoriously energetic. And insatiable.”
She rubbed a hand over his chest, appreciating all his hard muscles and hot smooth skin. Her roaming hand headed lower. And lower.
He cocked an eyebrow, then glanced down at where her hand was going. “See, insatiable.”
She grinned, but stopped just below his belly button. “Pancakes? Or a ham and cheese omelet?”
He blinked, then grinned. “Insatiable tease.”
She smirked back, but continued to swirl a fingertip around his flat little navel, the coarse hair tickling her.
He caught her tormenting hand, bringing it up to his lips. He pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles, then each finger, and just like that the teasing tables were turned.
He nipped the pad of the finger that had been circling his belly button, then said, “Definitely an omelet.”
She frowned, too lost in the erotic sensations of his mouth on her hand to follow.
“I’ll have a ham and cheese omelet,” he clarified with a smug glint in his eyes. “I need some protein to keep me going.”
She made a face at him, but said, “Omelets it is.”
She crawled off the bed, swathed in her version of a sage-colored, ill-fitting toga, and trundled toward the kitchen.
“Want help?” he called.
“Nah, just rest,” she said, poking her head back in the doorway. “You’ll need that too.”
She giggled as she headed to the kitchen.
Killian listened to Poppy shuffling through the apartment, her sheet trailing after her. But once she was in the kitchen and the noises turned to the clatter of pots and pans, his smile disappeared. He stared at the ceiling.
What was he doing? She had encountered Vepar last night. There was no doubt. And to top it off, he was more upset about tonight’s plans. That shouldn’t be. He wanted her to finally see Adam and deal with her loss of her former boyfriend. Wasn’t that the point of all this? Didn’t he accept that eventually she would be with another man? That she deserved to move on?
But nothing was going as he’d expected. He’d really believed sex with Poppy would be great—which it was. Beyond great. The best of his existence, if he was being honest.
But he’d expected it to just be sex.
Not with Vepar out there, being a lunatic. Not with Killian himself being a demon.
He had to find her a human man. Someone to really love her. Not just have sex with her. He had to.
But even as he told himself that, a small portion of himself held back, unwilling to let go just yet.
He listened to Poppy again, the sounds of domesticity somehow as appealing as everything else about her. Slightly off-key singing filtered through the apartment too, and he imagined how she looked in her sea of sheet, well satisfied, her hair tousled, singing—the Rolling Stones. At least he thought it was the Rolling Stones.
She was truly, amazingly adorable.
And he was feeling that he was in too deep.
But as if her out-of-tune song was the melodic call of a siren, he found himself being drawn out of bed. Called to her.
He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. But as long as he remembered this was just for a brief amount of time, then he would manage to complete the mission he was here to do.
Poppy smiled as she stepped into the shower, the hot water like Heaven on her aching muscles. Today had probably been one of the best days of her life.
She and Killian had spent the entire day together—mainly in bed. Well, and on the kitchen table and on the rug in front of the TV. He’d called her insatiable, but in truth, their desire for each other was unquenchable.
She’d never experienced that kind of need for someone. It was exhilarating and a little frightening all at once.
She closed her eyes and let her head rest on the tile wall, water beat on her back, lulling her. Bed beckoned her, but this time for sleep. Maybe they should just stay home and finally rest. After all, did it really matter if she made some point to Adam? A point he probably wouldn’t even get?
She was pretty sure he hadn’t been as torn up about their breakup as she’d been. Strike that, she was positive he hadn’t been. But, she realized with a smile, after a day of being satisfied again and again by Killian, her heartbreak over Adam seemed years away. And pretty darn insignificant.
She opened her eyes as she heard the doorknob to the bathroom rattle and twist. She opened the shower curtain to see Killian standing there, naked. Amazingly, beautifully naked.
“Can I join you?”
She smiled, knowing the gesture was lazy. “Sure.”
He stepped into the water, closing the curtain, shutting out everything but them and the wonderfully hot water.
“I’m so tired,” she murmured, moving right into his arms and resting her head on his chest as if it were the most natural thing to do.
Even now, after all they’d shared today, her comfort level with him still startled her. He was physical perfection. The kind of man who had always made her feel, well, plain. But she didn’t feel that way with him.
His muscular arms came around her, a cocoon of Killian and water. She moaned.
“This feels like Heaven.” She sighed.
He was silent for a moment, then she felt his head nod against the top of hers. “I think you might be right.”
She stood, half-dozing in his embrace. How long she didn’t know, but eventually he released her and reached for the bar of soap. He lathered a washcloth, then began to rub the slick material over her, soft and soothing.
She sagged against him, her back to his chest as he continued to wash her, his touch so gentle and wonderful, she whimpered. The terry cloth stimulated her nipples as he moved over them, around them, then down her belly.
Unbelievably, her body reacted, and when he brought the cloth between her thighs, she spread for him, telling him silently she wanted him again.
She felt him smile against the curve of her neck and shoulder.
“Not this time, baby,” he murmured. “You’re too sleepy and sore. And we’ll never make it out tonight if we do.”
She wanted to argue and say that was fine with her, but instead she just nodded. Then she turned in his arms and again, rested her head on his chest.
