Page 7 of The Desert Prince's Jewel
I’m peeling off my apron and heading out the door with a trash bag, calling over my shoulder, “I’m clocking out after I take this out!” because I want to crash on that couch before I crash out.
Things just haven’t been good lately—worse than usual—so I need some TLC from a romance reading app, my favorite dating sim, and mushy romantic TV. I finish my task, and I’m ready to find the most comfortable coach to surf on tonight, but a strong hand tugs me from the entrance into the alleyway next to the cafe, too fast for me to scream.
“What—” a hand slams against my mouth before I can speak. I breathe in relief when a familiar face, and not an unfamiliar killer, comes into view.
Though that doesn’t rule him out as a familiar killer, Mateo. Focus like your life depends on it, because it does! Who is he?
I blink rapidly, and then my chest seizes when I realize it’shim,the not-so-human-hot-as-sin customer who’s been trying to kill me with his gaze. Maybe he will really kill me now, and a jolt of adrenaline shoots through me as I tremble in fear.
Of course, my body doesn’t go into fight or flight. Instead, I go unnaturally still, caught between my haywire instincts, just like his body traps me against the bricks.
When he makes sure we’re alone, his neck tilting at an unnaturally sharp angle to check, the stranger leans forward, his skin smelling of summer, as he whispers, “Caught you, my little thief.”
CHAPTER FOUR
RANBIR
“What happened to hello?” comes Torres’s muffled response behind my hand, and I frown.
The Goddess is undoubtedly pleased with me, for nothing else can explain my good fortune and Torres’s misfortune. Still, despite my elation at capturing him so easily, Torres isn’t nearly afraid enough for my liking at being caught, our bodies plastered together against the brick wall. The vile thief should be trembling harder in fear, and it makes me wonder how ridiculous I must look in this damn security uniform. But I push that thought away and refocus my efforts on him.
I will make him spill his guts, one way or another, tonight.
“I said caught… You…” I grit out through clenched teeth, my embarrassment enraging me more than Torres’s nonchalant attitude.
If the thief in question hears me, he doesn’t make a move to acknowledge the truth, simply staring up at me in open-mouth shock and awe as I tower above him, removing my hand from his mouth. Torres’s lips were so warm and slightly wet. I clench my fist, not liking how that sends a jolt of pleasure through me.
How long has it been since I found release? Apparently, it has been far too long since the only feeling I should be feeling is righteous rage. It fueled me from India to the ends of the Earth. I won’t let a pesky little thing like blood rushing to my cocks deter me from smashing this little shit’s face in if he doesn’t talk.
“Um…” he murmurs. Then the dumbfounded barista shakes his head once, twice, thrice, and snaps out of a trance. He cocks his head to the side in confusion like a lost little pup as I sneer at him.
And, of course, I don’t think it’s cute at all.
“E-Excuse me? What did you just say?” he asks in a voice too sensual to belong to such a lowborn bastard like him. “What’s your name? Let’s start with that and get to the rest, okay? And please don’t kill me. We’re way too close to my job, and I’ll be damned if I die on the clock.”
I stifle a surprised laugh, wondering if he has gone mad.
“I didn’t offer my name,” I respond, feeling a heavy sense of deja vu as I say it.
“Well, I’ll offer mine if you tell me yours,” he says, and I groan. Is he Layla’s nephew? They have the same infuriating way of talking.
“Ranbir,” I say, knowing he knows who I am, not understanding his game.
“Ranbir,” the human barista murmurs, his full lips puckering, thick, suckable bottom lip shoved tantalizingly closer to my lips, sending a shiver down my spine. “That’s a nice name. Nice to meet ya’. Since you haven’t robbed me or killed me yet, I guessyou have another motive for dragging me into a dark alley. I can only pray it’s good.”
“What!?” I almost shout, forgetting why I dragged him behind the building in the first place, seeking a discreet location.
His large brown eyes widen, and remind me of a doe. I suck in a sharp breath, feeling my eyes dilate despite my best efforts to maintain my human form. The barista visibly tenses, eyes shifting left and right, before his gentle smile turns forced.
I’m finally scaring him.Good.At least, I should feel that way. But I don’t, I want to stop, and yet… I can’t. I can’t take my eyes off him, can’t stop the shudder of lust coiling through me, or the flicking of my tongue as I catch his scent. The coffee beans are overwhelming, laced with chocolate and whipped cream. I assume Torres just finished drinking or serving a mocha latte. But underneath that, I smell his natural musk: sandalwood and ink. A perplexing trio of scents, but almost as intoxicating as the way Torres nibbles his lips.
He smells so earthy, like some fae, and not a normal mortal man working an ordinary job in an admittedly extraordinary city. But I don’t sense any magic radiating from him.
I reach up and dig my nails into his cheek before I allow my fingers to scrape the side of his neck, finally resting against his sternum as I weave my way to his chest. Torres is only a shade off from me, but different enough that the skin peeking from the barista’s shirt stands out underneath my hand.
Mmh, maybe I should stuff his irritating mouth with something other than my fist… Huh? What? What in the twenty-eight hells is wrong with me?
I fight the urge to recoil so I can keep him pinned against the wall.Damn.My reaction is visceral, unsettling, and wholly unexpected, like some horny teenager. I’ve had my fair share of magical and mundane flesh. Men and women. Whoever struckmy fancy whenever I wanted to, especially those who trigger my predator instincts like Torres does.
