A smile quirked a corner of her mouth. “No bullshit?”
“No bullshit.” He gave the center of her plush bottom lip a reverent kiss. “Ever.”
Epilogue II
The Broken Toothwas exactly what Atria expected: dark, smoky, loud, and sticky in places it shouldn’t have been. It was comfortable in its familiar grime, reminding her of every bar, diner, and hole-in-the-wall coffee shop she’d spent her early twenties in. Sure, the clientele were a little rough and the vinyl seat of their booth was tacky under her bare thighs, but she’d take those minor discomforts over the oppressive atmosphere of a high-end establishment any day.
Besides, it was her mate’s favorite bar. She’d put up with just about anything if it made him happy. At least The Broken Tooth had good beer.
The music isn’t bad, either.
“I still can’t believe you drink that stuff,” Kaz muttered, his callused fingers slung around the neck of a much lighter brew.
Atria took a long, noisy sip of her stout and smacked her lips. It was smooth and intense and delicious. It reminded her of happier times in the Sanctuary, when she’d helped the brewers roast hops in great vats, preparing specialty beer to be sold to tourists and pilgrims. “Maybe I just have better taste than you?”
His left arm, which was looped around her waist, drew her in tight against his side. His eyes never left the smoky interior of the bar, ever watchful, even as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You want to criticize my taste when my favorite flavor is a pretty doctor’s cunt?”
Lust, always a low-burning heat in their bond, crackled to life in an instant.
“You’re playing with fire, big guy.” Atria snuck her right hand beneath the table to run her palm over the thick muscle of his thigh. His body heat radiated through the worn fabric of his jeans as she traced a path up and up. “Don’t we have a meeting you need to stay sharp for? Wouldn’t want you being too distracted thinking about how good I taste.”
Kaz sucked in a sharp breath when her fingers skated over the rapidly hardening ridge of his cock. His already rich baritone dropped an octave when he murmured, “Keep that up, princess, and you’ll learn I am perfectly capable of having a meeting and making you come in a crowded bar at the same time.”
She didn’t doubt it. Even after weeks of being in each other’s constant company — and having sex on every available surface of their apartment — Kaz’s touch still set her on fire. Part of it was due to the intimacy of the bond, which amplified their lust in a sensual feedback loop — and part of it was just him. Every time he kissed her, touched her, whispered in her ear, he did it with the raw need of a man who lived and breathed for his mate.
And really, was there anything sexier than that?
“Well, don’t you two look cozy.”
Atria jumped, her gaze skittering away from the delectable sight of Kaz’s fingers curled around his beer bottle to find a man standing on the other side of their table.
He was tall, thickly built, and unmistakably dangerous. There was a wild glint in his half-lidded, mismatched eyes and a lattice of fine silver scars ran across his face, which disappeared into a scruffy beard. His dark hair was tousled and just beginning to gray around his ears, though she doubted it was a good indicator of his age. For all the wear and tear he clearly bore, he could have been fifty or two hundred years old.
“Rasmus.” Kaz seemed casual enough to an outside observer, but she could feel his tension as he eyed the were standing across from them. Tucking her even more securely against his side, he tipped his beer in greeting. “This is Doctor Atria Le Roy. Atria, this is Rasmus Adams. He’s a criminal.”
A dangerous smile curved Rasmus’s scarred mouth. His fangs were a flash of white against his sun-darkened skin. “Pleasure to meet you, Doctor, though an introduction feels a little superfluous. You’re almost as famous as our big blue sovereign these days, aren’t you?” He winked, showing off thick, curling eyelashes.
Atria eyed him speculatively.Bet he has no trouble getting what he wants, whenever he wants it.
Even she might have fallen prey to that roguish, bad boy charm if she wasn’t aware of the barely leashed aggression that lurked just below the razor-thin veneer of his surface emotions. To her keen senses, Rasmus was a bomb ready to go off at any moment. Whether that was simply his personality or a symptom of the virus that made him a were, she couldn’t say. He reminded her a bit of Sloane — if by some miracle the elf managed to find some hitherto unknown well of charm.
Giving him a look that said she knew exactly what he was, Atria said, “Nice to meet you, Rasmus. My mate told me you helped him find me. Thanks for that.”
He waved her thanks away with one tattooed hand. “Don’t worry about it. Just didn’t want the orc ripping my head off later. And for the record, I’m not a criminal anymore. I happen to own several legitimate businesses these days — including this bar.”
Kaz grunted. “Bought it, huh?”
“Rachel wanted to retire.” He shrugged and slid into the booth. It was big enough that he could sit nearly opposite them, giving her mate plenty of breathing space, and, she noticed, keep his eye on the door at the same time. “Speaking of business, I heard through the grapevine that the offer of a certain exceedingly large amount of money has mysteriously disappeared from the Underground bounty network. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“Seems someone got cold feet,” Kaz answered, perfectly bland.
Rasmus leaned his forearms on the tabletop, his mismatched eyes glittering with interest. “Seems like. Maybe they realized that kind of money brings the wrong sort of attention.” He paused long enough to give Atria an appreciative look. “And maybe they also realized trying to kidnap a celebrity is a stupid-ass idea.”
Heat crawled up her neck. “I’m not a celebrity.”
“Mm, really? I wonder why I keep seeing your interviews in my newsfeeds, then.”
Atria took a nervous swig of her beer. Shehaddone a mind-numbing amount of interviews lately — public and private. It seemed like every news outlet in the world wanted a sensational soundbite from her about “the future of energy,” and suddenly the leaders of nations not only wanted to read the reports they’d skimmed for years but also speak to her personally.
