Savage Hearts (Queens & Monsters #3)(15)

Every time I glance in Spider’s direction, he’s gazing at me with stern, unwavering focus, like he’s judging my life choices.

That makes two of us.

“So, Riley. Tell me about yourself.”

Lounging against the booth with one arm slung over Sloane’s shoulders, king-of-the-jungle Declan smiles at me. How the man manages to ooze dominance and sexual prowess simply sitting there is one of life’s great mysteries.

Meanwhile, Sloane gazes dreamily up at his chiseled profile with little red hearts in her eyes.

I swear, I never would’ve believed this shit if I wasn’t seeing it for myself.

“Gee, where to start?” I muse, nibbling on a dinner roll.

Okay, nibbling is a lie. I’m gnawing on it like a farm animal. I’m so hungry, I could chew my own arm off. If the waitress doesn’t arrive with our entrées soon, I’m going to barge straight into the kitchen and start threatening people with a meat cleaver.

“I work as a freelance editor, which I adore. Mainly because of how much I love books, but also because I get to work in my pajamas.”

“And avoid all human contact,” Sloane adds, smiling.

“Yes. That’s a major benefit.”

Declan quirks a brow. “Not much of a people person, are you?”

“It’s not that I hate people, I just feel better when they’re not around.”

Sloane laughs. “Barfly.”

“I love that movie. Mickey Rourke was so dope when he was young.”

Sloane makes a face at me. “Don’t say ‘dope.’ It makes you sound so Generation Z.”

“I am Gen Z.”

“Ugh. That explains why you’re so antisocial.”

“At least I’m not a Millennial. You guys are all narcissists.”

“We are not!” she says, indignant.

When I only stare at her with my lips quirked, she laughs again. “Okay. You got me.”

Declan looks interested in the turn in the conversation. “What generation am I?”

Without thinking, I chuckle and say, “Generation Big D.”

He cocks his head, Sloane lifts her brows, and I backpedal as fast as I can. “The D doesn’t stand for dick!”

Sloane drawls, “What does it stand for then, Smalls?”

Cringing, face flaming, I lift my shoulders up to my ears and lie meekly, “Dude?”

“Uh-huh.” She throws back her head and laughs. “Oh, god. If you only knew how right you are!”

Declan looks back and forth between us. “I’m lost.”

Sloane reaches over and squeezes his thigh. “The D stands for daddy, honey.”

He glances at her hand on his thigh then looks at her mouth. His blue eyes grow hot. His smile comes on slow and heated.

And I am so out of here.

I stand abruptly, almost knocking over my water glass. Yanking at the hem of my dress, I say, “Be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“Ladies room.”

“Spider.” Declan snaps his fingers. Spider shoots to his feet.

“I think I can pee by myself, thanks.”

Ignoring me, Declan makes a motion with his hand to indicate Spider is to follow wherever I go.

Knowing I don’t have a say in the matter, I sigh and head toward the back of the restaurant, tugging self-consciously at my hem and hoping Spider isn’t following too closely. He’ll probably get an eyeful of one of my pasty butt cheeks.

Gah! Why did I agree to wear this stupid dress?

I burst through the bathroom door and lock myself into a stall. I sit on the toilet with my elbows propped on my thighs and my chin propped in my hands until it seems enough time has passed for Sloane to jerk off Declan under the table. Or whatever it was they were about to do.

Then I go to the sink to wash my hands. Even though I didn’t pee, clean hands are always a good idea.

When I turn the water off and reach for a paper towel, I happen to glance into the mirror above the sinks. I freeze in horror.

A man is directly behind me.

He’s huge.

Frighteningly tall and broad, he stands with his legs spread open and his massive hands hanging by his sides. He’s all in black, including a heavy wool overcoat with the collar turned up against his tattooed neck.

His hair and beard are thick and dark. A small silver hoop earring glints in one earlobe. Beneath lowered brows, his eyes are a startling shade of pale green.

A powerful energy of violence and darkness emanates from him.

It’s like being in a room with a supermassive black hole. I’m about to be devoured and disappear for all eternity.

He’s the most beautiful and the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen.

His intense gaze locked on mine in the mirror, he murmurs, “You don’t need to sell yourself, malyutka.”

His voice is deep, rich, and hypnotic.

So is his scent. He smells like something that lives and hunts in the woods.

“You’re better than that, no matter what he tells you.”

He’s speaking English, but I have no idea what he’s saying. I can’t think. I can’t focus. All I can do is stare at him, seized with terror and fascination, my heart beating like mad. The rest of me is frozen solid.

“Take this.”