Page 58 of Grotesque
We ordered nearly everything on the menu. I hadn’t questioned how we were going to pay for it all – I certainly didn’t have room in my budget, but Corban seemed unfazed. I went to the bathroom and by the time I returned he was shutting the black leather booklet that held our check.
I sipped my wine, fighting the urge to open it up to see if he had actually left any money. Did fae have credit cards?
Corban leaned back in his seat, his eyes on my mouth as I took a drink. When I swallowed his gaze trailed down, following the liquid in the movement of my throat, and gradually halted at my chest over the locket.
“People are staring,” I hissed.
Corban cocked his head. “As if they haven’t been the entire time we’ve been here.”
“I think they were curious about you before, but now it looks like you want to fuck me on this table, and people are taking notice. Cut it out.”
A flash of red entered Corban’s eyes. “But I do want to fuck you on this table.” He leaned forward. “What do you say we give them a show?”
I choked on my wine. Sputtering turned to coughing and our server who had been reaching to collect the check placed his hand on my shoulder instead. “Are you alright?” he asked.
A bolt of nauseating energy zinged across the table. Corban looked absolutely murderous as he stretched his arm toward me, blatantly flashing his claws.
Fuck’s sake, he’s going to rip the guy’s arm off.
I waved him off. “I’m fine.” I pointed to my throat. “I just swallowed the wrong way.”
Our server jerked his hand away and stared dumbly at Corban. His eyes went wide at the sight of his taloned hand.
“You had no trouble swallowing me,” Corban said playfully, a stark contrast to the venom of his gaze.
I lurched up from the table when the red glow pooled in Corban’s eyes again. “We were just leaving.” I risked a glance at the bewildered server. “Thank you.” I shot Corban a warning glare, but he wasn’t looking at me.
He rose smoothly, towering over the young man, who took a couple of steps back instinctively. The tension was so thick I swear I could hear it crackle through the air. He leaned forward, pressing his lips close to the poor guy’s ear. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but by the color draining from the waiter’s face, I could guess.
The server nodded, his eyes blinking rapidly.
Corban eased back and gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. “Have a good evening,” he said coolly. He turned to me, slid his arm through mine, and led us quietly out of the restaurant, completely unperturbed that the entire place had gone silent, and that every eye remained on us as we made our departure.
“You’re a menace,” I said the moment we were outside. “What did you say to that poor kid?”
Corban’s possessive hold slid around my waist. “I told him he was lucky I didn’t cut off his hand to enjoy for a midnight snack. That he was fortunate I’d already eaten.”
I came to an abrupt halt. “You did not.”
“I did,” he said matter-of-factly. “I also told him that if I caught him so much as looking at you again, I would take his eyes.”
“You can’t just threaten people like that. They’ll think you’re serious.”
He stepped in front of me, his touch moving like oil over the fabric of my dress. The chill of his skin cut right through the barrier and made me flinch. “But I am serious. You belong to me. Just as I,” he hesitated, only a moment but still he hesitated, “belong to you.” His thumb stroked my collarbone, soothing the tension that had wound its way through my body. “That’s what we are to one another now.”
Corban let his eyes roam over my body. I don’t think I would ever get over the appreciation I saw there. He was undeniable. I slid my hand over his, twisting it until our fingers were intertwined. Despite the cold of his skin, warm tingles raced up my arm and slowly, so very slowly, like the gradual spread of a drug through my veins, seeped everywhere else.
The sun was making its final show of the day, casting splashes of gold and pastel orange across the waterfront. The colors painted Corban in dreamy warmth.
“Who said I belong to you?” I said, as I fought for some semblance of control.
A feral glaze swept over his eyes, the grip on my hand took charge. “Why don’t I just remind you?” Corban swooped in and pressed his mouth to mine.
His taste was an elixir I would willingly drown in. I didn’t recoil when his forked tongue brushed against mine. I welcomed it, sucking him deeper into my mouth.
The trickling sound of laughter broke the spell between us. Corban drew back, his pupils completely blown out, eyes now devoid of all color. His cool breath pulled my gaze down to his parted lips. His fangs had lengthened. The predatory essence had returned to his being. Gone was the gentleman he had been playing the part of earlier.
He looked like he was fighting to say something. He opened his mouth once, twice, but nothing could have prepared me for the words that fell from his lips.
