“What if I told you I was Cupid,” I asked.
“Eros?” she said, brows raised.
“Whichever you prefer,” I answered.
“Then I would say you’re worse than a serial killer,” she replied. “You make people fall in love.”
“Love is death?”
“Love is unrealistic and tragic,” she answered. “No matter how much you love someone or something, death will eventually take it away.”
“Everyone loves something,” I countered. “Shouldn’t love be part of life’s enjoyment? Otherwise, what’s the point?”
She seemed to consider it, her short black nails tapping on the martini glass. “If you are Cupid, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be flying around, shooting arrows in people’s asses?”
I chuckled and resisted telling her I was fully capable of doing that with my phone now. “Taking the night off,” I answered.
“Oh? Isn’t this a popular night?”
“It’s a bit cliche to fall in love on Valentine’s Day, don’t you think?” I said. “Besides, I’ve found something much more intriguing to spend my night with.”
“What’s that?” And the way her eyes dilated made a smile twitch at the corner of my mouth.
“You.”
She stared at me a moment, her lips twisting in amusement, a soft glisten rising in her eyes like she was holding in laughter.
“Did you steal that from a romance novel?” she asked.
“Heard one of the other idiots at the end of the bar say it,” I replied. “Thought I would see if it worked.”
“Did it work for him?”
“It did not.”
“Why would you think it would work on me, then?”
“You look like you read romance novels,” I bantered. “I thought the line might spark your curiosity. Make you feel like you were in one—the filthy kind, of course.”
“Sorry, you’re not really my type in that genre,” she said as she sat down her glass.
“What’s your type?”
Her chin lifted, mockery dancing in her eyes. “Minotaurs,” she answered.
Gods, she was fucking cute.
I settled my elbow against the wood and eyed the smug look on her face. She probably thought that word would send me running for the hills, but the joke was on her. I’d known a few minotaurs centuries back, ones that would have gladly taken her for a ride and given her exactly what those books promised.
Shame they’d since hidden themselves.
Chloe hadn’t stopped smiling since I’d come over. Her confidence radiated with every rise and fall of her breasts, every twist of her finger in her hair, or lips wrapping around the straw in her drink. It had me wild for her, completely ignorant of the rest of the room, of the schemes I’d planned on playing with the guests here and the app, or of even what my next move would be. And the way her eyes glittered up at me?
Fucking Styx, I didn’t know how long I could wait to have her.
“Here I thought you looked more like the faerie erotica type,” I teased her.
She paused, evidently trying to keep herself from grinning outright as she twisted her red-stained lips, pulling her cheeks in and biting them. I stifled a groan as I imagined how those lips would pucker and plump around my cock, how that scarlet color would smear so beautifully around her mouth…
