Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“The clown?” My half cautiously investigates, hope that he’s correct, dancing in his eyes. “The one that’s in love with the bat person?”
Rather than correct him, I teasingly state, “You’ve been studying.”
“I have.” Ptur reaches for my hand on a playful beam right as we enter the bottom level of the garage. “I was under the impression there would be a test while I grilled dinner.”
“There will be.” Our shared laughter is abruptly cut short by a realization that’s been sparked by a particular word. “Shit!” Stopping our bodies receives a furrowed brow. “I gotta go back. I need my laptop.”
“Leave it.” Love and mischief meld in his platinum gaze. “Work will not have a place in our lives this weekend.”
Lightly moaning at the delectable promise is thoughtlessly done.
“Those sounds and others most certainly will.”
My ancient side commands I strip right here in the empty parking space yet my sane side—that I hope to never totally lose—has me stating, “Even so…it’s in my contract that I take my laptop with me when leaving company property for the night. It contains sensitive materials that the board would rather not have leaked—you included. Between having just found a way to appease Ms. Olsen and successfully extracting the plants from Magitek at this branch, it would be in our best interest not to make a careless mistake such as leaving behind a laptop to fall into the wrong hands.”
An annoyed grunt is attached to the dropping of his shoulder. “You’re right.”
“And now everything is back to the way it should be.”
Ptur rolls his eyes, shakes his head, and offers me the keys from his pocket. “Straight to the roof to our vehicle and have a mint. I put a fresh pack of grape flavored ones in the console.”
“How about I go get my laptop, and you bring the car around?”
“No, I care for my mate whether the task be grave or miniscule.” The dangling object is lifted higher in front of my face. “Besides, it’ll go quicker if I do it. You don’t have direct access to my private elevator or afterhours access to my office, which is where your laptop is I presume.”
“On the table near the couch.”
He nods his understanding as he begins to back away.
“Does that whole ‘what’s mine is yours, yours is mine’ thing apply to the elevator situation, too?”
Mirth meanders its way into his bright gaze. “We’ll have maintenance and security reprogram everything on Monday.”
I shoot him a saucy wink that causes him to chuckle and turn to retreat towards the adjacent building while I resume my short stroll to the parking garage elevator.
So, I’m sensing some new perks to this whole married to a Draak thing.
And we are married to my understanding. At its most basic level that’s what bonding can be easily compared to in the human world. I honestly never gave much thought to any of that shit before now, but I’m really glad I didn’t. I’m glad I focused more on my career than who couldn’t handle me over a glass of wine. I’m glad I kept most relationships casual and connections outside my dad and Kyla minimal. There’s just something about hiding who you are that doesn’t sit well with me, which is what The Fog does for those not tethered to this side. I wouldn’t want that guilt taking up residence in my mind. It drove me insane thinking I might have to keep this from my best friend. I can’t fathom how much it would eat at my sanity to have to do it to multiple people.
Great Ones…what’s Dad going to say about this whole bonded thing?!
You know after he gets Mom back in his life?
Fuck, I hate the mere idea of not going to bed with my half every night.
I don’t know how he’s survived actually not doing it for decades.
Maybe that’s what his meds were helping with?
Keys.
The single spoken word is delivered as a clear instruction. Adjusting the object in my possession so that the small, jagged metal piece—which locks his desk drawers—is nestled between my fingers like a weapon is barely done in time to strike. An unknown hand lands aggressively on my shoulder prompting me to jab the makeshift knife through the center of the appendage. Feminine screams flood the garage yet don’t deter me from being on the defense. I jerk my elbow back shutting the sounds off at their source, swing my equipped arm around in a hook fashion to cut their cheek, and shove them backwards into the nearest pillar using my otherworldly strength. Any air remaining in the pencil thin females’ lungs is banished much like my bag that is momentarily restricting my movements.
Pinning her in place by her neck doesn’t require the amount of energy I assumed and that surprise I feel may partially be due to my new mated status.