Page 44 of Sweet Venom

With a sigh, I stepped back out into the cold and headed toward my apartment, the wind immediately gnawing at my exposed skin. My fleece pajama pants were doing absolutely nothing to shield me from the cold, and my ghost-print shirt might as well have been a paper napkin. I was about two blocksfrom home when a sleek blue Maserati screeched to a stop beside me.

The window rolled down, revealing Azariel’s stormy glare.

Oh, great.

What was he doing here in the middle of the night? Was he looking for me? Or was this just the world’s most inconvenient coincidence? I mean, there was no way this could have been a coincidence, right? No. Not when it came to Azariel Solonik. He looked at me without saying anything and for a second I fell under the spell of those stormy gray eyes of his, like every time he looked at me. They were always furious or annoyed, sure, but there was something mesmerizing about them, like they could have swallowed me whole if I had allowed it. My stomach fluttered, a swarm of angry bats having a party in my chest.

But then, of course, he opened his mouth.

“Get in the car,” he growled.

And just like that, the spell broke. Bats gone. My heart rate slowed back to normal. I glared at him instead, wondering how one man could have been so good-looking and so damn infuriating at the same time. I took a deep breath and did what I did best when I was around this man that made my stomach turn in both ways I loved and hated.

“What a charming invitation. Ever considered saying please? Or had you forgotten your manners?”

His jaw flexed, and he completely ignored my sarcastic remarks, his eyes narrowing in that way that made it clear he wasn’t there for my sense of humor. “What were you doing out here alone at this hour? Dressed like that? Were you trying to get hypothermia or fucking mugged?”

Now he cared?

I raised an eyebrow and folded my arms, though the cold made me shiver. Still, I wasn’t about to give him the satisfactionof admitting he had a point. “Don’t be dramatic. I was perfectly safe.” At least, I hoped I was.

His gray eyes darkened like a storm was brewing, and with an exaggerated sigh, he yanked a black hoodie over his head and shoved it at me. “Put this on before you freeze to death.”

I hesitated, but the wind had zero sympathy for my pride, and my teeth were chattering so hard I was in danger of biting my own tongue. Reluctantly, I pulled the hoodie on. It was warm, smelled like cedar, smoke, and practically swallowed me whole.

I sniffed the hoodie, crinkling my nose at the faint smell of smoke. “You smoked?” I frowned, pulling the hoodie closer to my face. And that was when I saw the blood smeared across his forehead, streaking up to his hairline.

What?

My stomach twisted in sudden worry. “Azariel, what?—”

“Get in the car,” he interrupted, his voice flat, giving nothing away.

I stared at the blood, a knot of unease tightening in my chest. “Not until you tell me whose blood that is. Is it yours? Are you hurt?”

Worry quickly takes over me as I scan him up and down, searching for any sign that he’s hurt. My eyes move over his body, looking for any mark, bruise, or indication that he's been in some kind of fight. The blood on his forehead only deepens my concern. Yeah, sure, I’ve wished him bodily harm once or twice—purely as afunway to daydream, you know, like imagining a piano falling off the sky and falling on his big head or getting his dick stuck in his zipper. But I wasn’t actually serious. It would probably kill me if something bad ever happened to him.

“Azariel,” I started again, my voice softer, but still filled with worry. “Seriously, are you hurt?”

He sighed, flexing his tattooed fingers like he was testing their mobility, his face a mask of indifference.

“Just get in the car, Poe.”

Poe. Oh, how I hate my name on his lips.

It feels…wrong.

I scoffed, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “You know… it’s not normal to find my boss-editor-slash-nemesis lurking around at midnight with blood on his skin and clothes that smell like a morgue.” Okay, maybe it is normal. At least for us.

His jaw tightened, and his gaze darkened. “Get. In. The. Car.”

“No.” I bit back, crossing my arms over my chest.

His jaw twitched, and before I could react, he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing.

Oh, no, he didn’t.

“Put me down! What the hell was wrong with you? This was kidnapping, you know!” I growled in frustration, trying to ignore the rapid beat of my heart and the way my skin seemed to spark with electricity when he looked or touched me. He said nothing as I tried to free myself from his tight hold. Damn, this man was as strong as he looked. Then, without warning, he slapped my ass, a quick, sharp motion that made heat rushed between my legs. My breath caught, and I stiffened in his arms, blinking like an idiot. “What the hell was that for?”

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