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Compelling the mortals to forget they’d seen him entering the office came as second nature, but stealing from his commander, and owner of the gentlemen’s club, went against everything Nicholai believed in—not to mention it could get him killed.
“Christ, what am I doing?” Despite his shortcomings, he had a moral code that didn’t include grand larceny. “It’s a loan. I’ll put it back. Desperate times...”
Nicholai took ten stacks of bills with mustard yellow bands, the one-hundred grand he’d lost at the poker table. The cash weighed about two pounds, stood less than six inches tall, and had the capacity to change three lives.
The door opened behind him, and a female gasped.
Nicholai set the money inside and turned from the open safe, expecting to find one of the employees. A rush of adrenaline stuttered his heart when he met Serena’s eyes.
The woman took stock of the situation. Without a word, she locked the door and pulled her T-shirt over her head.
Nicholai opened his mouth to speak, but she slammed against him, tugging his zipper with one hand and closing the safe with the other.
Serena ripped his shirt open and pressed her lips to his almost violently.
He grabbed her shoulders to push her away, convinced she’d lost her mind. “What are you—”
The look on her face tightened his throat. Fear? ""What the hell, Serena?”
Without a word of explanation, she dropped to her knees and got down to business.
Nicholai’s brain went blank for several heartbeats. He wrapped his fingers in her hair and urged her head back. Angry woman. Fangs. His favorite appendage. As good as it felt, it wasn't wise.
She continued to work him as if her life depended on it.
“Stop, this is—”
The door opened. Lochlain went slack-jawed, his hand still on the knob.
Serena tensed, but kept at it, at him.
“Company.” Nicholai pulled her off him, but kept a hold on her shoulders to prevent her from turning and exposing herself to their commander.
She glanced back and covered her chest. “Oh, my God.”
Lochlain lingered at the entrance as if searching for the appropriate words.
Nicholai knew the feeling. Hurricane Serena had flattened them both.
“I’ll be in the bar when you’re finished.” Lochlain closed the door.
Serena sprang to her feet and gathered her clothing.
“What the hell was that about?”
She put her finger to her lips and shook her head.
Realization hit him much later than it would have had she not dropped to her knees. He turned his head, unable to make eye-contact. She’d prevented him from getting caught with his hand in the safe...by getting caught with her mouth full.
Thank heavens she’d closed the door or I’d be a dead man. “You saved my life.”
Smirking, she whispered, “Now get out here.”
“Christ, what am I doing?” Despite his shortcomings, he had a moral code that didn’t include grand larceny. “It’s a loan. I’ll put it back. Desperate times...”
Nicholai took ten stacks of bills with mustard yellow bands, the one-hundred grand he’d lost at the poker table. The cash weighed about two pounds, stood less than six inches tall, and had the capacity to change three lives.
The door opened behind him, and a female gasped.
Nicholai set the money inside and turned from the open safe, expecting to find one of the employees. A rush of adrenaline stuttered his heart when he met Serena’s eyes.
The woman took stock of the situation. Without a word, she locked the door and pulled her T-shirt over her head.
Nicholai opened his mouth to speak, but she slammed against him, tugging his zipper with one hand and closing the safe with the other.
Serena ripped his shirt open and pressed her lips to his almost violently.
He grabbed her shoulders to push her away, convinced she’d lost her mind. “What are you—”
The look on her face tightened his throat. Fear? ""What the hell, Serena?”
Without a word of explanation, she dropped to her knees and got down to business.
Nicholai’s brain went blank for several heartbeats. He wrapped his fingers in her hair and urged her head back. Angry woman. Fangs. His favorite appendage. As good as it felt, it wasn't wise.
She continued to work him as if her life depended on it.
“Stop, this is—”
The door opened. Lochlain went slack-jawed, his hand still on the knob.
Serena tensed, but kept at it, at him.
“Company.” Nicholai pulled her off him, but kept a hold on her shoulders to prevent her from turning and exposing herself to their commander.
She glanced back and covered her chest. “Oh, my God.”
Lochlain lingered at the entrance as if searching for the appropriate words.
Nicholai knew the feeling. Hurricane Serena had flattened them both.
“I’ll be in the bar when you’re finished.” Lochlain closed the door.
Serena sprang to her feet and gathered her clothing.
“What the hell was that about?”
She put her finger to her lips and shook her head.
Realization hit him much later than it would have had she not dropped to her knees. He turned his head, unable to make eye-contact. She’d prevented him from getting caught with his hand in the safe...by getting caught with her mouth full.
Thank heavens she’d closed the door or I’d be a dead man. “You saved my life.”
Smirking, she whispered, “Now get out here.”
