His decency is killing me. “Thank you, Ferryman. Seriously.”
When Flask passes by, I ask him for a beer because if there’s ever a reason to drown oneself in the bottom of a bottle, I think seeing Rissa kneeling between Wraith’s legs qualifies.
Flask pops open a Corona, and I take a drink. It’s not awful, like I expected a beer to taste. Then I spin and press my back against the bar to survey the room for the meanest, nastiest, most intimidating Unholy I can find, because if Wraith can have his cake, so can I. Because seriously, I’m twenty-four, this is Mayhem, and I’m a married virgin who’s on the verge of widowhood.
If anyone needs to get laid, it’s me.
Ferryman is my first choice, but I dismiss him instantly because I second-guess the whole meanest, nastiest, most intimidating thing. Maybe that’s too deep end of the pool for my first rodeo. Let’s put a toe in the shallow end and see if the water’s warm.
Everyone is already…busy…with someone (or people). I’d just be an intruder.
There’s Havoc, who watching me. True, I’m a bit scared of him, but he’s gorgeous. Reminds me of a modern-day Viking, complete with a long, messy blonde mohawk and tattoos. He’s a bit too fierce for my tastes, but it’s not like I’m looking for a relationship. I need a one-night stand, and the man certainly looks like he knows his way around a woman’s body. I take another sip of beer, and it flows down smooth. Sure, I’ll feel like dirt afterward, but I’m going to feel like garbage no matter who I’m with, so it doesn’t matter much.
Then I spot Jester strutting out from the hallway. He takes a long, lazy pull of beer, his hair all tousled-perfect, and his eyes hooded as he scans the main room.
If Wraith wants to be a motherfucker, I can be one, too.
I march over to Jester, determination putting a fire in my step. “Please tell me you didn’t have sex.”
I take a sip of the beer to wash away the imaginary taste of imaginary sloppy seconds.
“Nah, my girl got sick.”
“Thank God.” I realize I said that out loud when he frowns down at me.
He eyes the beer, a bemused grin playing his lips. “Are you drunk?”
I have the audacity to take exception at his question. “No, I am not.”
Oh yes, I absolutely am.
He looks over my head to survey the room. “You see Wraith?”
“Unfortunately,” I mutter.
My goodness, my head is fuzzy, and my body is warm and cozy. Like my skin is hugging me.
“The hell? Did you say your skin is hugging you? Jamie, how much did you drink?”
I hold up the Corona. I’ve barely made it past the neck. “This much and two shots of something delicious.”
He grabs the beer and examines it. “That’s it?”
I shrug sheepishly. “Never drank before. Can I please have my beer back, thank you very much?”
I hold out my hand. He downs the beer in one long swallow. “No,” he says once he’s done.
“You’re rude.”
“Never claimed to have manners.” He threads his hand in mine and again searches the room. “Where’d you say Wraith went?”
I roll my eyes. “Up your ass and to the right.”
Jester gapes at me like he’s deciding if he wants to laugh or strangle me. Probably both.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I need to get laid is what’s wrong.”
