I sat there, dick out and breathing hard, while I recovered from the brief high.
“It’s not enough, and you know that,”my demon said.“The mating bond will drive us all up a fucking wall if you don’t do anything with her.”
I ground my teeth together. “I’m not forcing her.” Not yet, anyway. “Until then, I’ll wait.”
My demon’s lips curled into a feral smile.
I narrowed my eyes. “Whatever you’re thinking...”
All I got from him was a cackle that sounded like a dying cat.
Fuck.
Ihummed along with the song playing in my headphones while I made breakfast. It was 4 a.m., and I’d woken up long before my alarm. I had my good nights, and then there were the bad, where I couldn’t fall asleep or I woke up three hours after falling asleep. Last night was a terrible night for me. I took medicine for my nightmares so I couldn’t remember them, but I could still recall my dream last night, which wasn’t good.
In the dream, I was on the phone with my friend Tyler—whom I hadn’t seen since starting my job as an assistant, and he hadn’t returned my texts. I heard him talking to someone, then he screamed bloody murder, along with the sounds of rapid, loud thumps, like someone was banging a bowling ball on the floor. My cries drowned them out, and I shrieked for Tyler to answer. Then Mr. Volkov spoke to me, saying he kept his promises. That was when I woke up, tears running down my cheeks and my heart thundering in my ears.
Shivering, I pushed the feelings away and bobbed my head to the song’s beat. I mouthed the words and flipped the omelet over, releasing a squeal of excitement because I’d done it perfectly this time.
“Third time’s a charm,” I said with a giggle.
I let it cook for another minute before I scooped it up and put it on a plate. Off to the side was a second plate, with the two ruined omelets. Those were for me. But this one? This perfect omelet was for Mr. Volkov. He was due to arrive any minute since I’d heard him rustling around in his bedroom when I got up.
Turning around, I jumped and squeaked when I saw him standing by the marble-topped island, a hip leaned against it, and his arms crossed over his chest. He had donned a black three-piece suit paired with Armani shoes. His shiny white hair, which looked like silk, hung past his shoulders, with a few waves here and there. Not a strand was out of place. I bit my bottom lip to hide my smile. Mr. Volkov liked having control. I wished he would ease up on it a little. That was why I tried so hard to make him smile—even if it was a small one.
I held up the plate. “This one is for you.”
He stared at me before he dropped his gaze to the plate. Mr. Volkov didn’t show his emotions. He kept up a wall, not allowing me to see what he was thinking, but I glimpsed a flicker of mirth in his gaze before it disappeared.
I set the plate beside his hip, pulled out the earbuds, and placed them back in their pod. “Eat up. If you want more, there are two over here.”
I waited for him to say something or even grab his plate and eat. Instead, he returned his gaze to me and raised an eyebrow. My cheeks warmed, and I picked up the plates of omelets and sat them at the kitchen table. Mr. Volkov watched as I grabbed our silverware and set them beside our food.
“I’m also making coffee. I looked into how to make the perfect, umm...” I wracked my mind for the name of the coffee he liked. “The umm... Oh! Au lait. I found that you have a whole, a whole espresso machine with a steamer. So I figured I could, I could make you that coffee.” I twisted my fingers together, never looking him in the eye.
Mr. Volkov stared at me with a stony expression, his gaze never leaving my face.
I smiled through my nervousness. “Come eat, sir.”
His shoulders tensed and his eyes darkened. That look sent more heat through my veins, which felt like they were full of champagne bubbles because of all the pops and tingles. It must have been adrenaline—I wasn’t new to feeling it all the time.
I brought out a chair and held it back for him.
“I’ll seat myself, Ms. Hayes,” he reprimanded.
“Okay.” I smiled and sat beside the offered chair and waited for him.
He crossed the space and sat beside me. He side-eyed me, grabbed my plate of ruined eggs, and pushed his perfect one in front of me.
“Wait!” I gasped and reached out to take it from him, but he blocked my hand before it could touch the plate. I looked at his side profile, pouting. “The perfect one was for you, sir.”
He grabbed a fork and neatly cut the egg, revealing steamy ham, bacon, peppers, and cheese. I held my breath, waiting for his approval as he placed the small bite into his mouth. Feeling my gaze on him, he peeked at me from the corner of his eye and narrowed it. I didn’t care this time because I wanted to watch him eat the breakfast I’d made. Warmth filled my chest as he quietly chewed on the food. He turned his gaze to his plate, cut off another piece, and ate it. I turned to my food and ate silently with him. When only half was left, I went to the espresso machine to make his coffee. I nibbled on my bottom lip, squinting my eyes as I figured out how it worked.
“What in the world are you doing, Ms. Hayes?”
I popped my head up and shot him a corny smile. “Making you an au lait.”
After I added the steamed milk to the coffee, I brought the cup to the table and held it toward him. He stared up at me from beneath his lashes. The light above us sparkled in his eyes, making them look like molten gold. I sucked in a breath as he grabbed the mug from my hand, and our fingers brushed. A shudder ran up my spine. If I looked down right now, I was sure I would find my nipples straining the material of my cream-colored cotton shirt. Mr. Volkov must have known my worry because his gaze dropped to my chest, and I looked with him. Yep. My nipples were poking against the shirt, begging him to free them from their restraints.
