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“Guests are our number one priority.” He went on. “You tell me that all the time. Do the rules go out the window because you wanna fuck Vampire Daddy? Just so I know . . . for future reference.”

“Rules are rules. But erm . . .” His timing was terrible. “Can’t you handle it?”

“I have handled it. I am now intimately acquainted with our guest’s balls. And I can’t get it out. It’s hard. It’s stuck. He really liked that ketchup bottle. You ever worn a cock ring? No, probably not . . . Ugh. Whatever. I’ll fix it. No thanks to you, Kitten. The things I do for this hotel. I need a raise, and drugs—and Tom back.”

Zee left and the door clanged shut behind him, leaving me alone with Reynard and Basic Tom the murderbot, now missing an arm. The volcanic surge of lust that had burned me up moments ago had fizzled to a tepid spurt.

Sensing my fading enthusiasm, Reynard eased off. “Perhaps we should continue this discussion elsewhere, at another time, in a location with more privacy and fewer potential interruptions.”

His sudden absence left my back cold. Could this day get any worse? I eyed Basic Tom and huffed.

Okay.

Right.

Priorities.

There were more important things happening than finally getting my hands on Reynard’s cock. Mercy, it had been hard. Obviously. And warm. Also, an inch from my face. I’d been so close . . .

I unpinned my bottom lip from between my teeth and sighed. Must focus on problem number one, not Daddy Vampire’s cock. Right. Okay. I could do this. “Did Tom just try to kill me?”

Reynard cleared his throat, his demeanor back to professional businessman, and he studied Tom up close. “Adam, where did you purchase this Tom Collins unit from?”

“A fae, downtown. He had several in the back of a van.” I shook off the dregs of the lust and faced Basic Tom.

“You just happened upon him?” Reynard asked. “Did you not wonder why the fae might be selling several Tom Collins bartender AIs from the back of a vehicle?”

“Obviously.” I definitely had not wondered that. “But he’d been really nice.” Having a bar in the hotel I’d been renovating with Zee had seemed like a great idea at the time. And a bar needed a bartender. The timing had been perfect. Unlike Zee’s timing. “It was super cheap, so I thought the AI might just be outdated.”

“I wonder if we might be able to locate the fae again and ascertain where this unit was made, and if there’s something more going on behind its programming? Shall we head downtown to the spot you bought it, and investigate?”

Yes, in a car with Reynard. But also, no. Because the hotel needed my attention, and apparently a guest had a personal emergency that needed to be dealt with.

“I’d like that, but I should help Zee.” And I really needed to keep my head down, and fix my curse, and maybe feel sorry for myself with a glass of whiskey for company.

“Very well, then. I’ll attempt to visit alone, but given my notoriety, it’s unlikely any fae will speak with me.” Reynard hesitated, glancing at armless Tom, then at me.

Would he invite me up to his room? Say it. He had to be thinking it, like I was? I could say it, but he’d just declared we should continue at another time, and I’d just clearly explained I was needed elsewhere.

Oh my stars, why was getting some action so difficult?

“We could . . .” he began, then swallowed, and glanced away.

“Yes?” Please say it, invite me up, order me, take me on my knees.

“Another night, perhaps, Adam? When you’re not so . . . in demand.”

“Okay. Yup. Sure. Great. It’s a date—not a date, a . . . thing? Super.”

Reynard left, and there I was, alone again, with a broken bot and its severed arm. “You’re no help.” I sighed. Although, Basic Tom’s attempted murder had resulted in Reynard getting all protective and aroused.

Maybe getting protective was his kink? Or maybe he was into violence? Tom would have known. He also would have fixed me a drink to go with our talk, then told me to get my shit in order and stop whining.

I did have a lot of problems to fix.

“I guess I’d better go help Zee, and then maybe fix my curse, huh?”

Basic Tom didn’t reply.