Page 70 of Bad Girl
But no one would be able to satisfy her the way we could.
No one.
Claire and Andrew approached just as Nika tore her eyes away from mine.
The man began to talk about Dáire Financial Services.
I didn’t give a shit.
Because Nika’s scent deepened another fraction.
For me.
For us.
I walked past them both.
I snagged a spare chair as I approached her desk, rolling it into the gap beside her and settling into it with a quiet exhale—letting the scent that surrounded her wash over me like something I hadn’t known I’d been starving for.
The woman beside her shifted without a word and made room.
“Good morning,” I rasped.
Her eyes became hooded. Her breathing laboured beneath the cream knit sweater, slow and slightly uneven, her body already answering something her mind hadn’t named yet.
She nodded.
We inhaled.
Kael as hooked as I was.
I stifled the groan.
So this was it. This was what my father couldn’t explain and my mother laughed about when we asked. This was why they reached for each other across every room they’d ever shared without thinking about it.
I finally understood.
She cleared her throat and began to show me what she was working on. I nodded politely, but focused on memorising that sweet, delicious musk until it was hammered into my brain. Until I could feel the blood rushing to my head. Until I felt Kael’s pull toward the ancient dance between wolves.
This wasn’t the time or the place and I knew we needed to pull ourselves together—but I indulged a little longer.
We noticed her posture. The gloss on her lips that matched her nails. Polished and perfect in a dusky pink.
Oh, by the Gods.
My eyes closed as I thought of the other shades of pink she would have.
This was torture.
“Are you well, Mr Gallagher?” she sniggered.
Fuck.
I opened one eye.
How had she managed to regain her composure so quickly?
She is the devil, Kael shot at me. Then—I think I love her.
