Page 74 of Blood Taken (Blood Mafia 2)
"There's only one pussy that'll have my tongue, but I'm afraid you're not ready for that quite yet."
I smirk when she flushes, a slow blooming red crawling up her neck and pinking her cheeks.
As much as I like provoking her, I have a reason for interrupting her.
"I have a meeting tonight.”
She presses her eyebrows together and slips on her bra, covering her perfect tits.
Such a shame.
"Good for you?" she asks in her snarky tone.
I grind my teeth together. Why do I let her get under my skin like this? I'm a terrifying vampire, hundreds of years old, and a twenty-five-year-old Hunter gets to me?
Nix would cackle like the demented bitch she is and tell me to stop thinking with my prick.
Good thing she's not here.
"I want you to come with me."
Shaking her head, she grabs the shorts from her bed where she laid them and slides them on. "That's interesting. I feel like you're trying to ask me but failing miserably."
I sigh. "Demetria, will you come with me?"
She grins. "How many times?"
Surprising myself, I toss my head back and let out a loud bark of laughter. Demi snickers along with me and I feel her thawing, if only slightly.
"For now, once to this meeting. We'll discuss the rest when you decide you're done being angry."
Yanking on the shirt with more force than necessary, Demi glares at where she thinks the camera is. She's staring in the wrong spot.
"No, we'll discuss the rest when you can stop being a controlling douche canoe for like three seconds."
I find myself scowling at her words. I'm not a douche canoe. An asshole, sure. A douche canoe? That's literally impossible.
Demi lets out a harsh breath. "Relax, Demi. Don't let him kill your vibe." She breathes in again, visibly relaxing. Her shoulders unhunch and the line above her eyebrows smooths.
I'm at a loss as to what to say. I thought everything was going well, but like water over a fire, the spark of heat between us is extinguished. I resist letting out a disappointed huff.
"I'll come get you in twenty minutes?" I make it a question, trying to ease back into her good graces.
She finger brushes her hair. "Fine, whatever," she says before slamming the bathroom door closed. I glance at the screen with that camera and see her yanking out a hair dryer and slamming it onto the counter.
Baby steps, Mateo.
Baby steps.
Rome wasn't destroyed in a day.
I'm pretty sure that took at least three days. I'm certain I can beat that record.
* * *
Demi
Mateo arrives at my door twenty-two minutes later.
