She crossed her right foot behind her left and bowed, her ponytail flopping over her shoulder. The movement made her look young and light like she was made of air rather than skin and bone. “We have a joke among acolytes.”
He slouched. “Let’s hear it.”
“A werewolf, a vampire, and an acolyte walk into a bar. The bartender asks, ‘What’ll it be?’ The werewolf orders a beer. The vampire orders a pint of blood. What does the acolyte order?”
“I don’t know, what?”
“A candle to light for the souls of the vampire and the werewolf.”
“That’s the worst joke I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, if we were comedians, we would have chosen a different vocation.” She strode into the kitchen and started loading a plate.
“What is that in the eggs?”
“Onions, peppers, tomato, spinach. It helps with hormonal balance.”
As she swayed in front of the counter, she added pancakes to the heaping pile forming on the plate in her hands. He shifted in his chair, his cock kicking. His inner wolf stretched and lowered his head, stalking her every movement. Breathing deeply, he sorted her mango and vanilla scent from the many others.
Selene didn’t seem to notice his lascivious stare. She plopped the full plate in front of him and handed him a fork. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve noticed you’ve lost weight,” she said. “Do you eat regularly?” Her voice was full of caring and concern, but all Jason’s cock heard was a sultry murmur.
“Hmm?” He stared at the round curve of her hip.
She wandered back toward the food and started loading another plate. “Eating? Have you been… regularly?”
“Uh. I’ve been busy. Work and things. Plus I don’t cook.” His lids drooped as he followed the line of her body from thigh to shoulder to that long caramel-colored ponytail that swung behind her. He’d like to roll his hand in the length of it, tug her head back, and explore her mouth with his.
She cleared her throat. “Is something wrong?”
“Not at all.”
“You are… um… staring at me.” She plated her own food and walked to the table, taking the seat across from him.
“How could I not stare?” Jason flashed his practiced smile. “You’re exquisite.”
For a moment, she blinked at him, her body leaning closer as she studied his face and inhaled deeply through her nose. Then all at once she broke from his gaze and shook herself. “I’m also celibate, Jason. Your condition is going to make you see things that aren’t there for a while. You might even see me as a potential target of your vice. But that’s not who I am.”
He swallowed a bite of breakfast, fixating on her full lips.
“Who are you then?” he asked.
“I’m the one who decides when you get to leave this apartment.” There wasn’t a hint of humor in her voice. Her back was ramrod straight and her jaw unflinching.
Under her unwavering gaze, Jason continued to eat, surprised how hungry he actually was. “What’s in this? There’s an aftertaste.”
“It’s an herb designed to support the healing process. The bitterness you taste is valerian root. It has a calming effect on your sympathetic nervous system.”
“You’re trying to drug me?”
“I’m trying to make it so you can sleep.” She lowered her voice and turned her attention toward her food. “I heard you last night.”
He swallowed the food in his mouth, mortified at the possibility she’d heard him pleasure himself. “What exactly did you hear?”
“You were showering in the middle of the night,” she said matter-of-factly. “I presume the physical withdrawal symptoms were to blame. Racing pulse, sweating, crawling skin.”
“I thought you said you’d never done this before?” In fact, he’d had all those symptoms at one point or another last night.
“Not with a vice like yours. I have never treated a sexual vice, but I have studied alcohol addiction in werewolves. There are similarities.”
