Page 52 of Fanged Desire
“Well,” I reached for my discarded coffee cup, bringing it to my lips as I looked her over, “I guess we both have our issues.”
Hunter snorted, lifting an empty mug to clink against mine. “To being a mess, then.”
I followed her toast, hiding a smile behind my hand. “To being a mess.”
Chapter 19
Hunter
“Addison, I’m beat. How much longer do you intend to overwork me?” I scooted my chair back on its wheels, slouching until my chin touched my chest. “If I stare at this screen any longer I’m going to go blind.”
Addison was perched on my desk, legs crossed, sipping on yet another cup of coffee like it was her only lifeline. She shot me an astonished pout like the mere notion of quitting was preposterous. “Might I remind you, this wasyouridea? And besides–”
She waved a stack of papers in front of my nose, damn near delirious herself considering the hour. “We’re only halfway through these files. We can’t quit yet.”
“You’re a bad boss and I deserve a bathroom break.” I lounged back in my chair, flicking through open tabs on my laptop, one eye on the screen and the other on her legs, poking out from what was as close to a miniskirt as you could get away with before it became panty-curtains.
Whether it was sleep deprivation or general boredom poisoning my thoughts, something about the scene had my mind wandering back to the night at Micere, when I’d kissed her on the sofa and my wandering hands had wanted more. Addison’s skimpy club attire was out of place in my office, but something about the contrast only added to the faint buzz of arousal deep in my belly.
“You know. I’ve been thinking...” she said, interrupting my ogling and eyeing me over the rim of her mug. “For someone who supposedly works in sales, you’ve got a suspicious amount of experience with late-night heists and general skullduggery.”
I sniffed, dropping my gaze to her sparkly stilettos. “It’s called versatility, Addison. You should give it a try.”
“Oh, believe me, I’m learning.” She chuckled, a hint of a smirk on her lips. “Though I’m not sure breaking and entering into a fairytale mansion was exactly on my agenda. Thanks for that.”
“Youdidn’t break in anywhere.” I turned my nose up, clicking through a few tabs, squinting at a couple of blurry photos. “And it’s not a fairytale mansion, it’s a goddamn Elven fortress.”
“Trivial semantics.” She took another long gulp and turned her attention back to her papers.
“You’re really downing that coffee, aren’t you?”
Addison paused, looking over her half-empty mug like she hadn’t even noticed. “What? It’s keeping me awake.”
I hiked up a brow, folding my arms as I looked her over. “At this rate, you’re going to vibrate right off my desk. Which –by the way– is not for sitting on in the first place.”
She rolled her eyes, setting the mug aside. “I’m fine.”
“You say that, but I’m pretty sure you’re already three cups in. And it’s, ” I glanced at the corner of my screen, “past midnight.”
Addison shrugged, leaning back on her palms. “Caffeine is what’s keeping me from face-planting into your files, so it’s best you stop policing my coffee intake and brew us a fresh pot.”
“Yes, your majesty.” I pushed myself upright, dragging my feet as I shuffled over to the coffee maker, muttering all the while. “I’ve unleashed a monster.”
It was strangely easy to fall into this rhythm with her – banter, little jabs, the occasional eye roll. And even though we were holed up in my office at an absurd hour trying to connect dots in a series of disturbing files – not to mention our futile pursuit of whatever the hell this A-gene was – I didn’t mind. I liked her company, just as much as I liked her legs in those stockings.
I pushed another round of coffee into the machine, the familiar hiss and gurgle filling the office as it brewed. Addison waited, her eyes already trained on the mug I held out for her.
“Here. Your fourth cup,” I said, handing it to her with mock solemnity. “May you survive.”
She accepted it graciously, grinning in her victory. “You act like it’s some kind of sin to drink a little caffeine.”
Before I could retort, a faint sound drifted from outside the office doors – footsteps, voices – and I froze. Addison noticed and tilted her head, about to question me, but I held up a finger, listening. Who the hell would be here this late?
My question was answered immediately when clear as day came a familiar voice, echoing down the hallway. “Oh, come on Jordan, she’s a hermit! I’m starting to worry she’s growing roots in that office chair.”
“Shit,” I muttered, grabbing Addison’s arm and yanking her to her feet.
Her coffee sloshed in the mug and she hurriedly set it down, rounding on me with her mouth open in protest. “Hey! What – who is that?”
