Page 58 of Twisted Mates

I clear my throat and stand up straight, rubbing at my chest dramatically. “No, no, sorry, sorry, I’m done. I’m always up for cheese.”

He grins. “Good, let’s go.”

Two hours later, I’ve eaten so much cheese and pasta that I feel like I might burst at the seams. Not to mention all the wine I've had, but I’m also having so much fun I can barely stand it. This side of Xander is so muchlighterthan the side I see at Clayton’s house. It’s like the clouds have lifted from over his head and he can breathe without the smog of his stepfather’s judgment.

“Wait, hold on,” he’s saying, holding up his fork, a piece of cheesecake hanging onto the tines. “You’re telling me you want me to give you a large tattoo? One you won’t be able to hide?”

I lean over, stealing the bite from his fork and sit back in my chair. “Yes! Why is that so shocking?”

He looks at his fork and back at me with narrowed eyes before saying, “Like I told you, tattoos were a type of rebellion for me. A lot of the elders look at them as a way of marring what the goddess gave us. You just always seemed like the kind to stay in line. I thought the little butterfly and...” He clears his throat and gestures between my legs with his fork. “...your choice to not always wear panties were as rebellious as you get.”

I widen my eyes as my lips part and I clench my thighs, crossing one leg over the other. “Oh my god, Xander!” I hiss, looking around to make sure no one heard that.

“This isn’t one of your parents’ dinner parties.” He raises his voice and says, “No one gives a damn that I want to take you home and bury my face between your thighs.”

A few people look up from their plates but for the most part no one pays us any attention. I can see why he likes it here away from the curious eyes of the shifters. When he’s here, he fades into the crowd. Human, shifter, other—nobody knows. He is just another person going about his life just like the rest of them.

I snatch my wine glass and chug down what’s left before setting it down a little roughly, making him laugh. “But you don’t know who is around in a city this size. Anyone could get word back to Clayton and then?—”

He reaches across the table and places his hand over mine. I didn’t even realize my fingers were nervously drumming against the linen tablecloth. “You have nothing to worry about while we’re here. This is my safe place, where I ran to when I needed distance between Clayton and me.”

I hear the conviction in his voice, but I can’t help all the new fears that were unlocked during his argument with his stepfather. Xander may have never had an issue with him while living here but this is different. Now it involves Kai and his chance to take the throne. And if I know one thing about Clayton, it’s that he prides himself on being successful and powerful. His children are an extension of that. The slightest threat to any of them will have him pushing for a death sentence.

My silence must have Xander panicking because he squeezes my hand, bringing my attention to his worried stare. “Give me tonight, Alexia. Don’t let him take this moment from us.”

“You want me to stay the night here?” I ask, disbelieving he could be so reckless.

“Yes.”

“Clayton will shit his pants.”

“That sounds like a messy personal problem,” he retorts with a shrug.

He looks so hopeful that I don’t have it in me to say no. Not to mention... I don’t want to.

“Okay, okay, no need to beg. Let’s go, before I change my mind,” I tease. I want to get back to the lighthearted mood we were enjoying before I got in my head again. Pushing the boundaries with my brattiness is bound to do it.

He grunts as he motions our server over and asks for the check. When he looks back at me, pure lust radiates from his gaze. “You know I'd do it, right?”

"Do what?”

“Beg. Drop to my knees. Crawl to you. Anything you want, I’d do it,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine.

I swallow hard, biting my bottom lip. “Hell, Xander,” I whisper. “You’re a menace.”

“Guilty as charged,” he says as the check arrives. He signs it with a wide grin before holding his hand out to me. I can see hispride etched into his face. He is taking complete satisfaction in the effect he has on me. If I’m not mistaken, there is even a cocky spring to his step. He has no shame, wearing the truth about what he does to me like a badge of honor as we walk down the sidewalk back to the parking garage.

Our next stop isn’t his apartment, though. We pull up to a row of shops that line a side street off the main road. The front windows are decorated with bright art and a neon sign hangs above the doorway.

“A tattoo shop?” I ask.

“Mytattoo shop. I bought it two years ago,” he says, opening the door.

I look up at him in wonder. I truly do learn something new about him every day. “Wait. Youowna tattoo shop? You said you were an artist, but you didn’t say anything aboutowninga shop!”

He chuckles. “I have to have some secrets, don’t I? Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gotten to see this extremely adorable, shocked expression on your face.”

“Wow.” I peer into the darkened windows. “Where is everyone? I know it’s a weeknight, but shouldn’t it be a little busy?”

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