His Temporary Assistant

What was I saying? It was not tempting. The idea was abhorrent. Even if certain parts of me didn’t seem to get the correct message.

That part of me was a horny cow.

“I don’t want to suck up all that prissy stuck-up suit energy though,” I added.

“Then don’t blow him.”

“Luna.”

“What? Just sayin’.”

“Stop being obtuse.” I stood up and crossed to my desk where that blasted cat was staring up from my tablet. I flipped it over. “You know how energy exchange works. You’re the one who practically takes on the personality of the person you’re sleeping with.”

“I can’t help if my empath abilities get heightened with sex.”

I wasn’t that bad, but it definitely could adjust my mood post sex sometimes. The way my system pinged and zinged around Preston, I wouldn’t be surprised if our aftermath was pure insanity.

I really didn’t need any more insanity.

It didn’t stop me from going back to my phone when his text chime rang.

PMS: I shouldn’t have brought you into personal business in any case, and for that, I apologize. It was a rare moment of weakness.

After a moment, another text came through.

PMS: I hadn’t had anything to eat yet, and my coffee was detained.

Unbelievable. This dude was blaming being hangry and missing his coffee as the explanation for a genuine moment of vulnerability.

I chucked my phone onto the couch and went back to Lu.

“Draw me some new cards. How is my week going to go?”

Luna scooped up the cards she’d been throwing. “Podcast?”

“I might be a little drunk for that.”

Luna popped up and ran for my bedroom area. “Best time then.”

I leaned forward and rested my forehead on the table. “I say stupid shit when I’m drunk.”

She came back and set the microphone in the middle of the table. “Yes, but those are our best podcasts. Now where’s your laptop?”

I refilled my cup and pointed to the end table.

“Excellent.”

She set up everything along with my little recording board. And because she was Luna, she circled the mic with her crystals and lit candles.

Guess we were going all in.

“Heyyyyy. Welcome to Tarot Tramps, we are your cardslinging hosts, Luna and…”

I dragged my chair to the other side of the microphone so I would sound semi-professional. “And Ryan.”

“Don’t mind Ry. She’s a little down in the dumps. We’re going to do a reading for her to cheer her up. And maybe pour some water into her to combat the bottle—or two—of wine.”