There was always talk about the Night Sons falling for their Fawns. Becoming obsessed with them. While I knew a few who had, I’d never fallen victim to that particular curse.
I cared about very few, but not random women who meant nothing to me.
I shook my head and closed the video.
Four years at Saint Vale had made everything so predictable. Uneventful. My boredom was probably messing with my head, trying to convince me I liked this Fawn more than the others.
That she meant something to me.
To get my mind off Blair, I texted Brooks.
Me: Did you talk to the Elders yet?
He needed to tell them he had chosen Daphne so her Initiationcould start. And if he tried to go back on his word, we’d have problems.
I closed out of his message thread and texted Nico next.
Me: Get your pussy ass up. I still need that information from you.
I closed out of that thread and texted the friend who’d loaned me the jet. He always owed me favors because, like Brooks, he didn’t like to get his hands dirty. Fortunately, he had plenty of money to pay me to get mine a little bloody.
Me: On the jet now. Thanks, man.
I glanced up when someone cleared their throat. The flight attendant stood there, unbuttoning her blouse and hiking up her skirt in a silent invitation.
As she licked her lips, I glared at her.
I’d fucked this one a few times. She gave decent head, but her moans grated on my nerves. The last time I’d fucked her, I’d shoved a napkin in her mouth to get her to shut the fuck up.
They were nothing like Blair’s sweet whimpers.
They didn’t make me want to fuck her into oblivion for the next fucking century.
“Button up your shirt and fetch me a drink,” I said dismissively.
She stumbled back a step, confusion flashing across her face as she tilted her head.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “A drink. Bourbon. On the fucking rocks.”
She turned and sauntered toward the bar, deliberately swaying her hips as she poured. When she glanced back, she even gave a slow little roll of her hips to get a reaction out of me.
She didn’t, which only made her try harder.
When she returned with my drink, I muttered a simple, “Thanks,” and waved her away.
She stepped closer, and I turned away, not giving her the attention she was looking for. My teeth clenched when she stepped closer, a smug smile on her face, and straddled my lap.
I took a slow gulp of bourbon before tossing the rest in her face.
“Get the fuck out of my lap,” I ground out as she stared at me with wide eyes.
Liquor ran down her eyelashes and over her cheeks, but that didn’t stop her from pressing down and grinding against my cock.
I shoved her off my lap. “Try that again, and I’ll hit the emergency button and throw you out the window.”
She hauled herself up and flipped me off with both hands. “Make your own drinks then, asshole.”
She stormed off and slammed the door leading to the cockpit.
