Thump. Thump. Thump.

Goddammit! She really needed to get control of that. Having such a noisy clit really was unacceptable.

She grabbed one of the earlier Lords of Acid CDs and popped it into what had to be the most amazing sound system she’d ever seen. She turned on one of her favorite tracks, “Rough Sex,” then went through a pile of magazines he had on his desk. He had a stack of news magazines like Time and Newsweek, but she had no interest in reading anything that depressing. But, thankfully, buried down at the bottom was a recent copy of Vogue. The name on the subscription label said Kisa Vorislav. Must be a sister, since Nik wouldn’t dare have a wife.

With a sigh, she sat down at his desk, put her feet up on the exquisitely carved wood with the magazine on her lap, and promptly fell asleep.

***

Nik could hear her moving around his house. He could imagine the way the skirt of her mini-dress swirled around her thighs. And those shoes. The black “strappy ones” she debated about getting. They really did look good on her. Twenty grand well spent as far as he was concerned.

His cell phone went off and Nik let out a sigh of relief. Anything to distract him from the thought of that woman in those shoes.

“This is Nik.”

“Hey, Nik, darlin’.”

“Sahara. Hey, baby.” A lioness. She belonged to the Lyon Pride from this afternoon. He and Sahara had gone a few rounds in the past. The woman did know how to have fun.

“My sisters said they saw you in town today. And I started thinking, I’m free tonight…”

Nik smiled, then groaned. “I can’t. I’m babysitting a dog-lovin’ human.”

“Get your brothers to do it. From what I heard about her fabulous taste in clothes, they won’t mind a bit.”

Nik’s good humor fled. He thought about his brothers lingering around his territory, watching Angelina walk around his house in those shoes. And he didn’t like that thought one goddamn bit. Then he realized he felt territorial about a woman he had no intention of breeding with. And that particular realization pissed him off even more.

No way. He was not his father’s son. He’d meet up with Sahara tonight. Meet her and fuck her into oblivion, completely blocking out Angelina Santiago and her strappy black shoes.

“Ya know, Sahara, as a matter of fact…” Tech music suddenly pulsated through his house. But not just any tech music. The Lords of Acid. Specifically “Rough Sex” by Lords of Acid.

That heifer.

Thoughts of the evil viper bent over his kitchen table, taking his dick, while screaming out his name almost had him coming in his jeans. Especially when he added in the handcuffs.

“Sahara…I can’t. Really. I made a…,” he sighed heavily, “…a commitment.”

“You?”

Nik’s frown returned. “Yes. Me.”

Sahara chuckled, “Uh…okay.”

***

Angie woke up when she felt her chair kicked.

“What?”

“Hungry?”

She nodded, yawned, and stretched. Arms over her head, legs stretched out with toes pointed. When she finished, she looked up to see Nik staring down at her with his hands clenched into fists. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he growled.

Strange man, she thought as she followed him from the room.

Angie expected him to go to the dining room, but he kept walking right back into the kitchen. She wondered how long she slept, because it had gone pitch black outside. She’d look at her new watch, but she’d left that on the dresser in her room.

She followed Nik into the kitchen and stopped in the doorway. He had the table laid out with food, wine, and lit candles.

Oh, but no. That wouldn’t do one damn bit.

She popped on the overhead light. He looked up at her with a frown. At first, she thought it was annoyance, but she realized the bright light bothered his eyes.

“It’s too dark,” she gave as way of explanation.

“I guess it would be.”

“Does it hurt your eyes?” She didn’t know why she suddenly cared. Honestly, she hated candle-light dinners. To quote Miki, “You never know what the hell they’re puttin’ in your food, dude.”

“Not really. Just not used to it. I don’t really need lights at night.” He placed a huge bowl of food on the table; the salad and bread already out. “Sit, Sugar.”

She realized she’d been standing like an idiot for the last two minutes. She grabbed a seat and plunked herself down.

“You talk to your friends again today?”

“No. I’ll call ‘em tomorrow. Give ‘em the night to cool the fuck off.”

“How long y’all been friends?” He sat down catty-corner from her and began ladling out the food.

“Since we were eight.”

“Got any brothers or sisters?”

“No.”

“Not a real chatty gal, are ya?”

“Exactly how am I supposed to expand on not having siblings? Should I cry?”

He smiled as he held up a bottle, “Wine?”

“Please.”

“So you can say that word. I thought you were physically incapable.”

She watched him pour the white wine into glasses she was damn-near positive were Riedel Vinum stemware. Nice.

She definitely appreciated a man with taste.

“I say it when I feel it’s necessary.” She glanced down at the food he’d ladled out for her. “Macaroni and Cheese? Classy.”