The Demonslayer (Seven Sins MC 4)

It struck me then that I’d never actually seen her eat or drink anything before.

I knew the feeling of every inch of her body. I knew what she sounded like when she was begging, when she was coming.

But I didn’t know what she liked to eat or drink.

I’d never gotten to see her just… existing.

In my mind, I could feel her getting impatient, reaching out toward me again.

I felt it when she realized I was close.

And I watched as she turned to look out the window.

I would never get used to the impact of her gaze when it first landed on me. And, somehow, it was even stronger right then.

For one short moment, she didn’t do anything. She just looked back. And in my mind, I could feel something coming from her, something I was almost a little afraid to call affection.

But it was gone before I could be sure.

Dale’s arm raised, waving toward the door.

With a nod, I walked in.

But I went ahead and made her wait for a minute longer as I got myself a coffee. I couldn’t help but smirk at the impatience thrumming inside my head as the line inched forward for five minutes before I finally placed my order.

“Seriously?” she asked when I moved in at the table across from her.

“You’re the one who wanted to meet at a coffee shop,” I reminded her. “What was the plan here, baby?” I asked, leaning forward a bit so no one would overhear. “Want to fuck in the bathroom?”

I watched as a flash of desire moved across her eyes before she banked it right back down.

“It’s not like that.”

“What is it like then?” I asked.

“I need your help.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Dale

It was wrong for something made of evil to be so damned gorgeous.

That was how they got you.

It was true for all the underworld, demonic creatures.

I mean, yes, there were some truly gnarly types of demons. I’d even slain an ugly vampire or two. But as a whole, they were all annoyingly good-looking.

I rarely got to see Minos during the day.

That was by design.

It was easier to compartmentalize the whole situation if I only saw him in shadow, if I never felt the full impact of his beauty.

Or the way he seemed to look at me like I was the only woman in the entire world.

Because that was the last damned thing I needed.

But I had to have the meeting in public.

No more shadowy meet-ups in hotel rooms or abandoned buildings.

This had to stay strictly professional.

“My help,” Minos repeated, brows raising. “What’s wrong?”

Maybe I just hadn’t gotten enough sleep, or the stress was getting to me, but that sounded a lot like concern in his voice.

Only, that made no sense.

Demons didn’t give a shit about humans, let alone demonslayers.

“I’m in trouble with… work,” I said, aware of so many people around us.

“Over what?”

“A dem—a client I haven’t been able to track down and… handle.”

“Okay…”

“And if I don’t track him down and handle the situation, they are going to give the case to the last person in the world I want it given to.”

“Why? What’d he do?”

“Make my life a living hell since I was a teenager,” I told him. “He can’t win,” I added, looking off out the window as I tried to school my face into less hurt and angry lines.

“Okay,” Minos said, voice unexpectedly soft. “So, you want my help tracking down a client. You do realize you’re asking me, another client, for help, yes?”

“Believe me, I am very aware of what you are,” I said, back straightening.

“I bet you are,” he agreed, a sexy-as-sin smirk toying with his lips before his tongue slipped out to tease the edge.

The forked tip made desire dropkick me in the core. And suddenly it didn’t matter that I’d just gotten my fill of him mere hours before, my body was aching for more.

It wasn’t going to get more, though.

That couldn’t happen again.

Ever.

“Listen,” I said, tone a little sharper than I meant for it to come out, making the girls at the table next to ours shoot worried eyes in our direction. Exhaling hard, I tried again. “Let’s talk outside,” I suggested, but then went ahead and started to move without waiting for him to agree.

He must have left his coffee at the table because when I got to the door, one hand extended in front of me to open it, while the other pressed gently at my hip, steering me to the side so I could move through the opening.

My skin did not warm at the soft, yet oddly possessive feel of his fingers. And my stomach didn’t wobble either. I was not a wobbling-stomach kind of woman, damnit.

“After you, baby,” he murmured, his warm breath teasing over my ear, making me acutely aware that my entire body had frozen the second he touched me.