Page 72 of Twilight Sins

When I ignore the fact that he’s leaving fur all over my couch, I can admit that he’s a pretty animal. A pretty cat I still wish was anywhere else besides in my house, but still…

I snap my fingers and point at the cat. “There we go. That’s what it is. Luna is beautiful, but that doesn’t mean I want her around. Any more than I want you around.”

She was a beautiful, naked woman in my bathroom. What else was I supposed to do with that? Play fetch?

I toss back my drink. Mystery solved. I’m a man with a functioning dick and Luna is gorgeous. Of course I wanted to fuck her. That’s normal. But the moment she is gone, it’ll be out of sight, out of mind.

That doesn’t explain why I was thinking about her this morning during my meeting. And throughout the rest of the afternoon.

But I’m just drunk enough to ignore that. Then Gregory takes the opportunity to step into my lap.

“Do I have ‘Pet Rescue’ stamped on my forehead?” I shove the cat off my lap, but a minute later, he’s back and kneading my leg with his paws. I let him do it until he’s tired, scowling the whole time. When he’s satisfied, he coils himself into a tight ball on my thigh.

“Don’t get used to it. You’ll be gone soon. Both of you.”

Gregory just nuzzles his head against my palm and purrs.

27

LUNA

As if the blackened bacon and watery, snotty-looking eggs weren’t enough of a sign that I should put down the frying pan and permanently evacuate the kitchen, the smoke alarm chimes in with an ear-splitting shriek.

“The toast!” I spin around and pop the toaster, but it’s too late. I didn’t just burn the bread—I cremated it.

I drop four slices of black, ashy toast into the trash can and then dive for a cookie sheet to fan the smoke alarm.

I’m climbing onto the countertop with the cookie sheet under my arm when Yakov walks in.

“What in the hell are you doing?” He’s squinting against the noise, his massive shoulders scrunched up around his ears.

Up until twenty seconds ago, he was still asleep. I snuck out of bed before dawn to prepare this shitshow.

“Making breakfast!” I yell.

He shakes his head. “What?”

I yell louder, still fanning the smoke. “Everything burnt and the alarm went off! I was trying to surprise you, but?—”

Yakov hops onto the counter in one move the way normal humans would take a step. His arm bands around my waist so I don’t fall as he stretches up and presses the button on the smoke alarm.

Instantly, the noise cuts out.

“I didn’t know that button existed,” I mumble.

Yakov bounds down off the counter and holds out a hand. I take it, sliding off and down the entire length of his body. Including the very noticeable bulge at the front of his sweatpants.

Yakov winces and I jolt back like it’s electrified. And like I’m not already very friendly with that particular boner.

The last couple days, we’ve been more passing acquaintances than friends, though. Only because Yakov has been busy. Before that, we were tight. I was hoping we’d be tight once again after I flipped the tables and made him a nice breakfast.

I wave an arm at the counter and grimace. “Well… surprise.”

“You made breakfast.”

“Bacon, eggs, and toast. Er—bacon and eggs. The toast set off the smoke alarm.” I drop my face into my hands. “You don’t have to eat it.”

He pries my hands away from my face. “You’re mumbling into your fingers. I can’t hear you.”

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