My Shifter Showmance (Shifting Reality 1)
Thomas slid his arm around Margo’s shoulder, leaning back in his chair to meet Julie’s gaze. “There aren’t too many. Anyone who can last all seven days is a winner.”
His head tilted as he turned toward Joseph, Bryan and Kasey Lynn. “I was going to add a rule or two about fraternizing
with the crew.” He ignored Chi’s gasp and Liam’s growl, and his other hand reached for Margo’s wine-dampened fingers, lifting them to his lips. He sucked the wine from her fingers as everyone watched before speaking again, leaving Margo blushing and breathless. “But I can already see how pointless that would be. Not to mention hypocritical.”
Joseph’s brow furrowed. “What happens if we all stay?”
“Then you all win, much to the dismay of my pocketbook. However, I don’t foresee that being a problem.” Mac ran his finger along the rim of his crystal wineglass. “Thomas is trying to prove something by inviting you here. That our kind can cohabitate openly with yours. More to the point, that you won’t run screaming when you finally believe that all of this, that we, are real.”
“Something like that.” Thomas’s fingers began to play with Margo’s hair, and she shifted in her seat, her body reacting to his so strongly she had the urge to get up and leave the room. Or drape herself across his chest and beg him to touch her.
Thomas stiffened beside her, as though he’d heard her thoughts. His arm left her shoulder and he focused on his plate of food with renewed interest. Oookay. Margo put food on her plate, knowing it was just for show. There was no way she’d be able to swallow past the giant lump in her throat.
“We believe. Right before you came in we were talking to a ghost, weren’t we, hon?”
“Don’t remind me, Kasey Lynn,” Bryan grumbled, obviously still smarting from the spirit’s flirtation with his wife. “I’ve been waiting years to see a full manifestation and the first thing he does is flirt with my wife. And I didn’t even get a picture.” He looked over at Thomas. “Just to clarify. We won’t have to eat any bull or moose penis, right? Because I’m all for challenges and scares, and I have no problem believing in ghosts or vampires, but I won’t eat another creature’s Mr. Bill. That’s just not right.”
Beside her, Julie choked on a scallop at Bryan’s comment, but before Margo could pat her on the back, Liam was there. She hid a smile, turning her head as the big man cooed over her friend. Her gaze clashed with forest green eyes filled with laughter and desire. She lowered her voice. “Quite an interesting group you’ve put together, Mr. Lyons. So perfect you’d think it was scripted.”
“If I’d been able to script it, Ms. Sheffield,” he whispered in her ear, his hot breath making her shiver. “There wouldn’t be this many people in the room with us. Damn, you smell good.”
She leaned away from him before he could bury his nose in her neck and reached for a buttery sliver of crab, slipping it between her lips with a sigh. Maybe she could eat after all, this was delicious. Anything to keep from embarrassing herself in front of the others.
Through the rest of the meal Margo couldn’t help but notice that Naomi Blaze didn’t have the same modesty problem. The way she leaned forward when she spoke to Thomas, her dress so revealing Margo wouldn’t be surprised if a stray nipple popped out by accident. And Thomas, the scoundrel, was flirting back. If he had such a good sense of smell, surely he could sniff out the silicone in those too-perfect-to-be-real beauties.
She would have been jealous if she hadn’t been sure that it was his hand she was engaged in a slap fight with beneath the table. Between fending off the tantalizing slide of his palm along her thigh, and watching all the sexuality laden interactions between Joseph and Chi, sweet Julie and Liam, and Naomi and well, everyone, Margo was strung tight as a wire.
“We have a request for formal introductions from Bludlust200.” Saint, who hadn’t spoken through the entire meal, looked toward Thomas with a questioning glance.
Thomas nodded toward the diners. “Sorry. I’ve been remiss in my duties. We have your names and short bios about each of you on the site, but no specifics. Please, everyone, introduce yourselves.”
Kasey Lynn lifted her hand and smiled at the camera. “I’m Kasey Lynn Hollister and this is my husband Bryan. We met at a science fiction convention six months ago, and we were married two months later. Both of us work as IT support and in our spare time—” she shrugged adorably, “—we search for irrefutable proof of paranormal phenomena.”
Bryan leaned over to kiss Kasey Lynn, and Chi pointed at Joseph, who shrugged. “Joseph Lopez. I’m an architect, the only brother to seven older sisters, and a fan of the show.” He licked his lips. “I also have a thing for women who bite.”
Margo noticed Thomas glaring at Joseph, and had to wonder again if he and Chi had a history together. “Moving on,” their host growled.
Stan wiped his mouth carefully with his napkin, pushing back his chair to stand before them, bowing formally. “Stanley Lawrence Ayer. I deal in antiques, and it is no secret I am a skeptic of the paranormal world. Spectral illusions notwithstanding, I have yet to see anything to change my mind on that score. However, I look forward to your efforts.”
Margo shook her head. He’d seemed like a good guy on the plane. Since they’d arrived, his demeanor had sharpened in a way that made her uncomfortable. With half her attention, she listened to Naomi use her introduction to give out her personal website address and offer up the information that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Her friend Julie softly introduced herself, offering nothing more than her age and occupation—ebook author.
“What kind of books?”
Mac chuckled, the rich sound startling in that it was so out of character. “Liam, I thought you volunteered to be the cameraman. They don’t usually speak while filming.”
Saint leaned back in his chair, tilting it at an impossibly angle, though he didn’t fall. “This isn’t a usual show. Bludlust200 is one of us, and he’s saying he didn’t mean that kind of introduction. He wants our kind. I’ll do the honors.” He looked over the group. “Demons have certain gifts. I can see things you don’t want me to. Dark fantasies, doubts and fears. Whatever I would need to tempt you into sin.” He smirked. “Thanks, Dad. For example, I know that Kasey Lynn and Bryan have more in common than a desire to see spirits and a love of science fiction. Kasey has fantasies of kissing other women, and being a part of a ménage with two bisexual men.” Saint grinned evilly. “Bryan has that same desire. And I don’t mean watching two girls kiss.”
Bryan blustered, but Saint wasn’t finished. “Joseph has a thing for Thomas’s cousin Chi, and he wasn’t lying, a fetish about biting…though he also isn’t averse to a little bondage as well. Good man.” He pointed his Blackberry at Naomi. “By the way, I want the name of your plastic surgeon, Naomi. Or should I call you Nathan? That kind of work takes talent. And Liam, Julie is too shy to tell us that she writes paranormal erotica, and she has a particular fondness for werewolves, so you’re a shoe in.”
The table went wild. Naomi threw her glass on the floor and stomped out of the room with a shockingly deep voiced, “Fuck you, all!” Kasey Lynn looked at her husband oddly as he babbled incoherent denials beside her, and Joseph was definitely blushing.
Stan sent a challenging look down the table. “You haven’t said a word about either myself, or Ms. Sheffield.”
Margo held her breath as the two men stared silently at each other for long, tense minutes. Finally, Saint broke the silence. “Well, Slayer. You’re right, I haven’t. And I don’t think I’m going to just yet. Your secrets are different, but equally fascinating. I’m not ready to spill the beans. Not tonight.”
Stan nodded and excused himself, as did the Hollisters. Julie looked like she was about to cry, but shook her head when first Margo, then Liam, tried to follow her out of the room.
“Your social skills are really improving, Saint, old boy. You should be proud.” Mac patted the dark-haired demon on the shoulder and stood to leave himself.