Derek sets a sealed Patron bottle in front of me along with two shot glasses. “She’s your responsibility now, Saxon. She hexes my place, I’m coming for you.”
He reaches over, grabbing the bottle and glasses before I can. “She’s in good hands.”
What an arrogant ass. There are so many things I want to tell him, but I save it for when Derek can’t hear us. Saxon turns away from the bar with my drink in hand, leaving me no choice but to follow him.
He chooses to cut right through the dance floor. The crowd parts to let him through, gawking at the blond vampire like he’s some kind of deity. Women and men alike ogle him with clear desire in their eyes, but Saxon doesn’t seem to notice or care.
We reach a set of wide stairs, which are currently roped off and manned by another bouncer in a dark suit. Silently, he lets us through. Saxon goes up the stairs two steps at a time, reaching the second floor in the blink of an eye. I race to catch up with him, and the little bit of cardio only adds fuel to my growing irritation with the male.
He’s sitting casually in one of the couches by the time I reach the landing and has already poured the shots. Damn vampires and their supernatural speed. Still watching me with amusement, he offers me one of the glasses when I stop in front of his table.
I take his offering with a jerky movement, maintaining eye contact with him. Saxon seems to be fighting down a smirk. Asshat. My irritation expands, and it feels like an itch on my back that I can’t reach. It’s a prickling sensation under my skin. Getting alcohol into my system becomes the number one priority. I throw my head back to swallow the shot in one single gulp. Immediately, warmth spreads through my body, but it’s not nearly enough to make me relax. I need more.
“Feeling better now?” he asks.
My answer is to sit down on the chair opposite him and pour myself another shot. It’s only after I drink the fifth one and have a nice buzz going that I reply, “Yes.”
He chuckles, and then raises his glass in salute before tossing his head back. My eyes drop to his exposed throat as he gulps down, and I get a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. It must be the tequila at work. I’m still staring when Saxon drops his chin and our gazes collide. He rewards me with a knowing smile.
“Are you going to tell me what’s eating you?” he asks.
Normally, I’d tell him to mind his own business, but alcohol has loosened my tongue.
“My mother wants me to marry.”
Saxon’s eyebrows arch, almost meeting his hairline. “An arranged marriage? Isn’t that a little old-fashioned?”
“The magical community can be unpredictable, but one thing that never changes about them is their attachment to archaic traditions.” I take another shot of tequila. So far, I’ve consumed almost half the bottle by myself. Maybe Saxon wants to see me drunk.
“That sucks. Who is the lucky guy?” His tone is casual, but his eyes have a different gleam in them, almost feral.
“Calvin Belmont. An asshole with a capital A. I hate him.” I forgo the glass this time, drinking straight from the bottle.
I barely manage a couple swallows before Saxon takes the bottle away from me.
“Hey! I wasn’t done.”
He’s standing in front of my chair, imposing and so damn close. I tilt my head back so I can scowl at him properly. I don’t think it’s working.
He sets the bottle back on the table and then braces his hands on each side of my head, leaning down. “Yes, you are.”
He’s all over my personal space and I don’t know if the tequila has muddled my brain already, but I’m suddenly hit by a crazy urge to find out what a vampire kiss tastes like. It doesn’t matter if Saxon can be a nuisance most of the time. He’s a sexy pest and I want him. He stands straight again, stepping back, and I miss my opportunity. Damn it!
“Why do you care if I drink myself into a stupor?” I ask angrily.
“Maybe I like you.” He sticks his hands in his pockets, pushing his low-rise jeans even lower. A peek of taut, golden skin appears, and my fingers are now itching to touch him.