“What’s wrong with me? I’m turning into a bitch.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you,”he reassures me quickly. Then I feel him smile.“Maybe I like my women a little feisty.”
I roll my eyes.
“Stop.”
I leave the suit and shoes on the bed and exit the bedroom, going into the lab. I’m not sure why, but it feels like this is my space now, my little enclosed kingdom, and I need to check it before doing anything else.
There’s a paper bag on the table, and I rush to it, feeling famished. How nice of Garret to think about everything. My stomach growls painfully as I sit down and tear into the food, shoveling it in faster than I should.
“Slow down or you’ll make yourself sick,”Zeth says.
“I can’t help it. I’m starving.”
Oh my God, it’s such a relief that I don’t have to stop eating to talk to him.
“I’m sorry,”he says.“For feeding from you last night. I think I took too much. That’s why you’re so hungry and slept so long. You need to recover because of me.”
“That’s nonsense. Stop apologizing for needing to feed.”I take another bite, chew, swallow.“It’s my own fault. I forgot you needed it, and I basically starved you for a week. I’m the one who needs to apologize.”
“You didn’t–”
“I did.”
“Wren–”
“Zeth.”
We argue back and forth about whose fault it was until the lab door opens and Dale walks in with his characteristic hunched posture.
“Garrett says you should start getting ready.”
I swallow the last bite of food and look up at him.
“Tell Garrett to stop babysitting me.”
Dale’s rotted teeth show in a wide grin.
“I’ll let him know.”
He turns and leaves, the door slamming shut behind him. I wipe my mouth with a napkin, stand, and head to the bathroom.
I wash my face, brush my teeth, and fix my hair. Then I pull on the pantsuit. The pants first, then the red silk blouse that slides over my skin like water, and lastly the jacket. The fabric fits me perfectly, hugging my every curve without being tight. I step into the Louboutins and wobble slightly on the higher heels.
Damn it. I hope I don’t break my neck.
I walk to the mirror and take in my reflection. The pantsuit makes me look powerful and dangerous in a way my practical FBI suits never have. The heels make my legs look longer, my posture straighter. I’ve never worn something this nice in my life. Not that I will miss it after all this is over. I might look good in designer clothes and shoes, but they’re not my style. The Wren I see in the mirror is not exactly me.
I feel Zeth’s gasp.
“What’s wrong?”I ask.
“Nothing.”
But an image flashes through our connection.
Him tearing the pantsuit off my body, shoving me against the wall, his hands pinning my wrists above my head. His hard cock nudging at my entrance, ready to push inside.
