“Could be drugs,” Celine suggests. “I didn’t talk to him much, but he struck me as kind of off. Why do you care, anyway?”
Ciprian considers that, nursing his drink like we aren’t talking about a possible murder. “He’s a dick, but he’s useful for business.”
“And what is that business?” Luca demands. The question itself, combined with his tone, shocks me. It’s way too direct. Not at all how things are handled on the Fringes. Celine’s wings twitch, grazing my back.
“My boss wouldn’t want me to share that,” Ciprian says, his black eyes sharp as he studies Luca over the bar. “But if you stumble over a dead demon, let me know.”
Celine hums, the sound noncommittal. Tilting my head to the side, I face Ciprian and smile. “Of course. While we aren’t known for our transparency here on the Fringes, murder would be the exception.”
Luca grunts, and my senses tingle.
His stubborn antagonism. Her tense avoidance. There’s more to this than Celine told me when we struck our deal. Normally, this would infuriate me... but for some reason, the only thing I can think about is fixing this for both of them.
Gently, I tow Celine away from the bar, concerned her wings will give her away if I let this interrogation continue. “I’m on my break,” she whispers.
Nodding, I go to the storage room, pulling her inside and closing the door behind us. “You approached me for an alibi.” I face Celine, and she shuffles under my scrutiny.
“Alistair, I can explain . . .”
“You mistake me, angel. If you killed him?—”
“It wasn’t like that, I swear,” she sputters, taking a step toward me. I watch with fascination as the feathers of her wings take on the most fascinating shape, hundreds of blades shooting out from her back. “Roscoe followed me after work and wouldn’t take no for an answer. He pulled a knife on me. There was no other option.”
“Celine, let me speak, please,” I say firmly.
She backs away from me, glancing at the door. I frown. One step turns into eight. Her spine hits the wall, and her wings make a sound like wind chimes clinking in the wind. I freeze. My reputation demands fear from everyone else, but I don’t want it from her. It’s fundamentally wrong.
I clear my throat. “I don’t care who you killed or why. I pulled you in here to discuss how we fix it, not to berate you.” I approach her slowly. “Our relationship may be fake, but for now I’m your boyfriend, and that means I have your back. Do I need to dispose of a body, angel?”
The silence is loud. The sounds from the noisy club filter through the closed door, but we’re alone in here. Celine stares at me blankly. Then something changes. She pushes off the wall, and we collide, her lips fusing to mine.
I’ve imagined this moment a million times, and my body takes over, locking us into the hottest kiss of my life. Celine buries her hands in my hair, pulling my head where she wants it. I groan into her mouth, our tongues tangling. Her lips are impossibly soft, but her touch is rough. Just as I hoped.
“Dammit, Alistair,” she groans.
I trail kisses up and down her neck, feeling immense satisfaction as her pulse races beneath my lips. “Don’t worry, angel. Let me please you.”
Celine pulls back, her face serious. “I don’t want to lead you on.”
“You could lead me to the monster realm with a bell around my neck and a slab of raw meat tied to my back and I would still follow wherever you lead,” I say blandly, kissing her perfect lips again.
“See, that’s what I’m talking about: I don’t want to hurt you.” She sighs, then yanks my head back to hers. Grunting, I lift her off the ground to erase our height difference, shivering at how tightly she wraps her legs around my waist.
“You’ve warned me,” I say, surging into the wall with my vampire speed. “Now fucking hurt me, angel. I’m at your disposal.”
“That sounds toxic.” She bites my bottom lip, and her rightnipple slips free from her lingerie. We both glance at it. “Play with me, Alistair,” she demands.
Her order goes straight to my cock. I drop my head to tongue her nipple, licking softly, then rolling the tip between my teeth, determined to get an idea of what she prefers. Celine arches into me, her sweet gasp of pleasure music to my ears.
“Might I suggest a new deal, angel?” I graze my fangs carefully over the swell of her breast, soaking up the hungry little grunt she makes in response. “Friends with benefits.”
“We aren’t friends,” she argues, yanking my mouth back to her nipple. “Don’t be gentle, I won’t break.” Taking her for her word, I nibble the tip, then pinch the other one with no warning. Celine squeals and bites the side of my neck.
“I think we are friends, angel,” I say, grinding my cock into her pussy until I find an angle that makes her breath catch. “Gods, your tits are bloody amazing.”
She chuckles. The sound morphs into a moan as I increase my rocking motion, using the wall as leverage. “I don’t want more friends, Alistair. I want regular, leg-shaking orgasms. What I want is a reliable dildo.”
I pause, processing that, then roll my hips. Even if her terms aren’t the most favorable I’ve ever negotiated, I’m too invested to walk away from this deal. “One reliable dildo coming right up,” I whisper. “I’ll even clean myself off after so you don’t have to make the difficult choice between tossing me in the dishwasher or lathering me up by hand.”
