Page 32 of Stalked By Pestilence

Done and fully intending to go right back to the bliss of sleep, I tried to crawl away, body fully satiated, but his arm stiffened to keep me there. My rage overpowered everything, even when my legs were embarrassingly shaky and my whole lower half numb.

“Songbird,” I warned, voice pitched low. “Get your fucking arm off me. I want to lay down.”

As if he hadn’t meant to do it, he released me. I started to reach for the usual towel, but his hand caught mine. “No need for that, love. Another perk of buggering a snake monster.”

Suddenly, I wasn’t leaking cum. I peered at him from over my shoulder, still a bit out of breath. “I like these perks. Do they do laundry, too?”

His laughter warmed a place I refused to acknowledge still existed, one I’d buried when I was thirteen. “Why? Is that something you’re into?”

I rolled my eyes and laid out on the bed, determined to enjoy the after-sex calm. He took the spot closest to the door despite there being less space on the bed on that side. I rose an eyebrow at him, but he shrugged like he didn’t think it was weird.

His arm swept under my back and rolled me until I was laying on top of his chest. The thud of his heart was reassuring in a wayI didn’t expect. Not sure what I thought, but some part of me wondered if he even had a heart. It was nice to know he did.

I peeked at the time and was surprised to find it was barely seven. The window outside had been so dark earlier, I could’ve sworn it was later.

Fingers brushed through my hair as I dropped my head and decided it wasn’t worth the brain power. I’d sleep when I damn well pleased. I didn’t have a job that woke me earlier anymore. Monster sex was a whole-body affair, and it left me weak and tired in a way no other sex I’d been a part of had.

“Emily, we should talk…” Zelus started, but my phone’s ringtone cut him off.

I glared at it, but then remembered I had a best friend on vacation with her hot boyfriend. Maybe they’d pulled themselves out of their sex stupor and decided it was time to check in. My first mistake was not checking to see who it was before picking up.

“Hey bitch—”

“Evening, Emily,” Darcy’s baritone greeted, instantly souring my mood.

“Stop texting and calling me, Darcy. I don’t work for you guys anymore. Kay, bye,” I said into the receiver. I nearly hit the end button before he spoke again.

“The partners are asking to meet with you tomorrow!” he nearly yelled in his haste.

Zelus’s smile was impish as I glanced at him. He had one arm bent behind his head, while his other hand continued to play with my hair. “Partners?”

I sighed and covered the receiver. “Yeah. I’m a lawyer. Well, I was. Doesn’t matter.”

I put the phone to my ear, tempted to throw it and claim I broke it by accident, then get a new phone, new number, new life. But that curious little part of me won out, so I asked, “What do you mean they want a meeting? What for? I tendered my resignation, Darcy.”

“That’s why they want to meet. Can you swing by around nine in the morning,” he started, but I laughed.

“Get up early to talk to you guys? Pass. Have a nice life—”

“Two in the afternoon. No, whenever you have time. We’ll work it out however you need to,” he quickly asserted.

Desperation was a new look for someone like Darcy. Even though we were both senior associates, he was closer to making partner than I was. Well, and also because he was a fucking man. Our law firm had never—never—put a woman in a partner position of any kind. It didn’t take a big brain to figure out why.

Chauvinistic pricks.

In a distant past self, I had aspirations for being one. But after seeing the true world of law, I no longer pined for a position of power. I wanted out.

Problem was, I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t intrigued by the idea of seeing the bastards sweat and fall all over themselves after realizing who was doing the real work.

Zelus still had that sly smirk of his when our eyes met again, and I asked a question without muttering a word. He’d said we should live dangerously, and if they were that desperate to meet, then I’d go purely for the reckoning.

“Should we make a date of it, pet?” he asked, confirming my suspicions that he was a perceptive fucker.

“Are you with someone, Ems?” Darcy asked, making me instantly cringe overthe use of my nickname.

He’d only ever heard it once and then took it upon himself to use any chance he got. As if using it alone made us familiar. The asshole was still hung up on me, and it was a level of gross I stomached purely to keep my fucking job.

Well, no more.