Don't Hex and Drive (Stay a Spell #2) - Juliette Cross Page 0,32
balanced one saucer on his forearm while opening the door, which was kind of impressive for such a large guy.
Must be all that yoga helping with good balance and limbering up. My mind strayed in a nanosecond. Sweat-slick skin, broad muscular back, tight, flexing abs, intricate chest and shoulder tattoo that I’d wanted to observe with a magnifying glass.
He’d popped back out with a brown box in hand. I banished my yoga-obsessed thoughts and sighed with relief, thankful to be done with this semi-embarrassing situation. His mischievous smile never faltered as he handed it over. I’m sure he was thinking deviant thoughts about me and my Big John or something, but I refused to be baited into another conversation about my sex toy. But then his gaze deepened to one of sincerity. “I am sorry if I embarrassed you at the Cauldron. I was only teasing you. Private joke between us.”
“I know. I’m fine.” Even so, my heart whimpered at his apology.
The box had obviously been opened and re-taped, maybe more than once? I offered my hand to shake his. “Thank you for the tea.”
He took my hand, enveloping it almost completely, skating his thumb over the back. “You’re more than welcome.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but then glanced down at the box without another word.
I pulled my hand loose from his and took a step back. “Goodbye then.”
He leaned against the open doorway, tucking both hands in his pockets. I glanced over my shoulder to catch him wearing that secretive smile as he watched me walk away.
Weird. I was sure he’d have some smartass parting words for me. But he’d done nothing more than eye my box. As I walked through the front door, I glanced down at the package in my hand, then launched upstairs to my bedroom and shut the door. Something was niggling at me. Did he do something to my new vibrator? He wouldn’t.
Easily tearing open the box, I pulled out Big John still perfectly sealed in its original packaging, but then my eye caught something at the bottom of the box. A DVD movie?
Covering the DVD was a sticky note with masculine scrawl scripted in a more-than-pretty hand: In case you need some help to accompany your new toy. –Sincerely, Devraj
I pulled off the sticky note and read the title, Dilwala Deewana. And who should be starring in this sensual Bollywood movie? Yep. You guessed it.
“Seriously?”
Devraj stared out from the cover, his white linen shirt completely unbuttoned to reveal his sculpted chest and chiseled abdomen. A beautiful woman with waist-length, silky black hair kneeled at his feet, gazing up at him adoringly with one hand pressed to the bare skin of his perfectly ripped abs.
That man!
“As if I need his help. Please.”
Like I’d ever watch his movie to get hot and bothered. The arrogance! I slammed the DVD on top of my dresser and stared at his offensively sensual smile, wicked expression, and beautiful chest, the lover at his feet staring up at him hungrily.
I started to storm from the room but then marched back to my dresser, picked up the DVD, and dropped it in my waste basket.
“That’s where you belong,” I muttered to my trashcan.
And that’s what this man had done to me. Made me into a muttering fool with pent-up aggression, and possibly repressed sexual arousal, and feeling far more agitated than was normal. And okay, I’ll admit, a little hot and bothered, dammit!
The mere fact that dropping his movie in the trash made me feel satisfied and somewhat superior wasn’t necessarily a good sign. He shouldn’t have any effect on me at all.
I’d allowed him too much control over my own mood. So I marched off to the greenhouse to center myself. That’s what I needed. And maybe a visit with Tia would help. She could always ground me when the world irritated me to death. Yep. Tia could help me relieve any anxiety or stress. Even if that stressor took the form of a yoga-fit and annoyingly beautiful vampire.
Chapter 8
~DEVRAJ~
“You want me to null a Stygorn?” asked Jules, not bothering to hide her look of shock.
“Temporarily,” clarified Ruben as we stood in the back of the Cauldron’s kitchen with its chef. “You’ve done it before.”
She narrowed her gaze on Ruben. “Why?”
I glanced around the kitchen, making sure the sous chef and line cooks were too far away to overhear. They were busy shouting orders, and pop music played from somewhere, giving us plenty of privacy.