Ignoring Mac’s question, Blake buried those dark thoughts in the recesses of his mind, plastered on a smile, turned back around and slid the glass across the mahogany bar.
“One whiskey, neat.” So what if the glass contained only soda pop and Mac was too drunk to notice? Blake’s deceptions were between him and his own god. Hell, even monsters were entitled to gods.
A quick glance at the clock told him he had less than a half hour to go before his evening meeting with Trevor. He fisted his hands and worked hard to calm himself. Hopefully what Trevor had to show him would answer his questions, and with any luck, those answers would lead him to his sister. Right now she needed him as much as he needed her. Of that he was certain.
A movement at the door caught his attention. He angled his head and watched a group of ski instructors pour in from the lobby. Laughing and jostling one another, they signaled the waitress to bring them drinks and then sat at the corner booth.
Blake watched them for a moment, taking extra interest in the new instructor, noting with all his pleasure-seeking demon senses how there was something about her that separated her from the others. Snug jeans showed off the lush curve of her ass as she shimmied into the deepest corner and shed her ski jacket. Bare pink lips turned up to reveal perfect white teeth. It was all he could do not to run his tongue over his own as he thought about tasting her. Momentarily giving in to his wayward thoughts he let his glance race over her. The tight T-shirt she wore showed off firm breasts and hard nipples that he’d like to explore with his hands, his mouth, his tongue and had him conjuring up erotic images of their salacious bodies banging together. He put her somewhere in her mid twenties even though her fresh, girl-next-door looks made her appear years younger.
As his cock throbbed, common sense overrode his demon ones. He watched her body language. She sat with her back to the wall, cataloging her surroundings, taking careful stock of all its patrons. As she scanned the room her gorgeous green eyes latched on his. When her pupils dilated—an involuntary reaction undetectable by any human from this distance—and she quickly pulled her gaze from his, he stopped sucking air.
Surely to God she couldn’t…
He clenched his jaw and forced himself to inflate his lungs—slow, calming, relaxing breaths to help center himself.
Damn it, this was not what he needed. Not now. Not with him so close to answers. He took a moment to study her, committing her features, her body language and her every nuance to memory in case he had to draw on them later. Young, attractive, flirty, she tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder and laughed too loud, playing the part of a brainless ski bunny. But he knew the ski-bunny persona was all an act. His gut tightened and the demon blood raced through his system, bringing on a shudder. Much to his dismay, he knew that shudder had nothing at all to do with anger. Damn it…
He cursed himself for feeling aroused, interested and far more intrigued by her physical appearance than he would have liked, because the little bunny was nothing other than a cop. And if there was one thing he hated more than swallowing his pride…
Detective Michelle Simms, alias Sunny while undercover at the resort, forced herself not to show any outward hint of emotion when her gaze locked on the bartender’s.
Nevertheless, she knew by the way he looked away too fast, that the jump in her heart rate, the sudden sweat on her palms and the quick flash of heat between her legs hadn’t gone unnoticed by him.
Michelle was good at her job. Damn good. No mere man could distract her from her work this easily. She knew, because plenty had tried in the past.
Yet this guy hadn’t even tried and here she suddenly—incomprehensibly—found herself thinking about sex. Hot, sweaty—bang-you-up-against-the-wall—kind of sex. As warmth ambushed her pussy, her nipples tightened. Delicious images played out in her mind like an erotic slideshow—those firm lips of his pulling her hard buds between his mouth, licking and sucking, biting and nibbling, before he buried his face between the juncture of her legs, indulged in her pussy and brought her to orgasmic bliss.
Damn…
Michelle wasn’t just a cop, she was a “seer” who secretly hunted things that went bump in the night—things that most humans had no idea existed—and if she didn’t know better, based on her primal reactions to him, she’d think the bartender was a creature of the night. A vile, soulless demon. At that sobering thought her temperature spiked and caught her off guard. So did the shiver prowling through her—warning her.
Jesus, was it possible?
Trying to ignore her body’s inconvenient reaction to him, she writhed uncomfortably and worked to dispel the desire parading through her veins. Plastering on a vapid smile, she returned to ski-bunny mode and joked with the other instructors seated around the table.
But still, she couldn’t seem to get her mind off that bartender, or the possibility that he was a demon. Hell, she’d never seen a demon in the light of day before, let alone one holding down a job at an exclusive resort. She had to be mistaken. She just had to be. Then again, after some of the inexplicable things she’d witnessed over the years she was open to the possibility. Not to mention her body’s knee-jerk reaction to him. She knew from experience that only a
