Cody caresses his hand, so gently one would never suspect those blunt fingertips could sharpen. His dark eyes still fix on Simon. For a moment, Simon is certain Cody is going to kiss him.
And Simon will permit that, too.
Cody steps back, avoiding Simon’s eyes. “I should report and clean up. Call if you need anything.”
Simon sits silent, motionless on the counter, as Cody flees.
Then he slumps back, shoulders and head thumping the wall next to the empty mirror. Fucking hell. This is absurd. Simon should be focused on tonight’s attack, but all he can think about is the handsy werewolf whose scent still fills his lungs.
Cody is attractive, obviously. If he wasn’t a werewolf… If he wasn’t Simon’s bodyguard… If he wasn’t merely twenty-eight years old… If he wasn’t clearly wary of Simon’s bloodlust…
If Simon wasn’t a twisted mess of—in the modern parlance—abandonment issues…
If Simon had met Cody during his youth, maybe in a tavern, or backstage after a show, they would have already fucked.
Simon doesn’t trust Cody, but some cold lonely part of him desperately wants to. Which is bad, because the people Simon’s close to get hurt. Or they leave. Immortality lasts too long to carry that grief and loneliness.
Simon inhales Cody’s lingering scent again, though he doesn’t need to speak now. Then he pulls out his phone and types a message.
Sorry tobother you,
He erases that. Pathetic.
Any updates?
Better. He sends the text message to Dima. Simon getting hurt is one thing, but he refuses to let Cody take another bullet. The man is only twenty-eight. He has no idea what he’s doing.
Disregard the fact that Simon has no idea what he’s doing either.
Chapter 16
Cody
Thoughts as fluid and fleeting as the running water, Cody scrubs his arm. Blood clings to the white porcelain of the guest room sink, before sliding down the drain.
He should have kissed Simon. He should have danced with him at the Broken Cross. Even though every rational analysis says he was right to pull away. Cody’s protective instincts twist and snarl, unsatisfied. Like he’s meant to guard Simon’s emotions, not just his physical well-being.
Atwood Security forbids fraternizing with principals. A distracted guard is a liability. On any other job, Cody would call Tobias and request to be replaced.
But there’s no replacement for this assignment, because Simon is a vampire. Which is the other reason kissing him is a bad idea. Simon’s eyes were red with thirst for Cody’s blood.
Feeding off of people is bad. Cody learned that from the cradle—all werewolves do, otherwise they get locked up or put down. Vampires are trapped by their nature, feeding on human blood to survive, but that doesn’t make it a good thing.
Even if those humans at the Broken Cross looked plenty enthusiastic. Even if Cody was tempted to indulge Simon’s bloodlust, just moments ago.
Shutting off the faucet, Cody stares at his gleaming bare arm. The bullet wound is healing fast, and all the blood is gone. Cody didn’t need to resist or indulge in Simon’s bloodlust at all.
Because Simon was in control the entire time. Beneath that lonely fragility, Simon is strong. Far stronger than Cody, who can barely leash his wolf.
The other type of lust is the problem. Did Simon actually want to kiss him, or was that just the scent of blood clouding his desires?
After drying his hands, Cody reviews the full-property security system one more time. Then he takes a deep breath and grabs his phone. Time to… not lie to his boss and best friend. Just conceal some unprofessional truths.
It’s four in the morning now. Tobias picks up on the second ring.
“What’s the damage?” he asks, voice muffled. Then even more muffled, “Everything’s fine, honey, just work stuff.” His voice rises to a higher pitch. “Good girl, stay with your mom, Princess.” Footsteps, and a door closes.
Cody feels bad. His friend was actually sleeping at home at a normal hour, for once. “We’re secure right now,” Cody starts, because leading with the gunshot isn’t smart. Then he relays the rest of the night’s events.
