Page 35 of Charming Her Monsters

“I’m sorry that you were upset by my joke,” Calder grits out.

It wasn’t a joke, but whatever. Also, his apology is blaming me for being upset.

“That’s such a weak-ass apology.” Arran shakes his head. “Might as well say ‘I’m sorry you have feelings.’”

I stifle a chuckle at Arran’s comment.

Calder frowns at his half empty plate of food and huffs. “I’m sorry. I’m still not recovered from the attack the other night—both physically and emotionally.” He pauses and asks, “Has Osen come back yet?”

“I’m sorry… not yet.” To give him some hope, I add, “But he could be still recovering from the attack too.”

He hums and doesn’t look at me for our entire exchange. It’s progress, nonetheless.

* * *

After breakfast, I wander into Maxum’s office and unpack my gear. I really hope my computers don’t melt with all their magic swirling around.

What if I eventually have enough magic to cause problems all on my own? Will I be able to write on my laptop? Or will I have to write longhand and send my work off to someone to type it for me?

Once I have my stuff on the desk, I figure out my travel router, which actually works. No matter how much my curiosity pesters me, I don’t check to see where in the world we are. I’m guessing North America, probably the States, since my router works without issue. Beyond that, I don’t know, and apparently, it might be dangerous for me to know if someone invades my mind.

I also don’t like or comment on any of my public social media posts. If Rob really is watching for signs of me, then I don’t want to let him know I survived his attack.

I notice one of my author friends has sent me several direct messages in the last couple of days. I find it odd because she rarely notices when I’ve locked myself in my writing cave for too long. Somehow, she must sense I’m in trouble. Perhaps she has a bit of psychic intuition. As much as I want to respond, I don’t.

Sales are doing okay since my assistant is still promoting, and my ads are running fine. I remind myself it’s only been a few days, but part of me is disappointed. I had hoped more people would notice I was missing.

Why am I irked that the world didn’t fall apart when I wasn’t constantly there? Does that mean I could have taken a day off once in a while before now? Nah, I don’t want to believe that.

Opening up my manuscript file, I sigh happily. I finally have climbed over my writer’swall, but I’ve had barely any time to write. Now, I might get the writer’s retreat of my dreams, with sexy monster lovers to test out all the sex positions I can think of.

My personal supernatural research and development team is on call.

With that, I’m wondering what kinds of fantasies Maxum wants to make come true for me. I need to write out a lengthy and thorough list of things to try. I had no one I trusted before to do kinky stuff with. Will he chase me through the woods for a primal fuck? Tie me up and edge me to oblivion? Fly me into the sky and fuck me midair?

I open up a notes file and jot down some of these ideas. Never hurts to be prepared.

I’m lost to my imaginings when I feel Arran’s presence. I don’t even have to turn around to know it’s him. Is this a witch's power? Or because we are bonding? I’ve never had a connection to someone the way I do with him.

“Hey, Arran,” I say before I turn.

When I look, he’s standing in the doorway. His gaze is locked onto my computer screen as if he eagerly wishes to sneak a peek. The fragrant scent of my favorite herbal tea is wafting from my favorite tea cup.

I squeak with happiness and rush at him. Then blessedly, I remember the scalding hot water, so I stop, place the cup gently down on the desk, andthenjump him.

He catches me, holding me up by the ass, and my legs wrap around his waist.

“Thank you.” I pepper kisses over his gorgeous face. “That was so thoughtful. I was out of my mind and didn’t even think to grab it.”

“Of course, my sweetness. I know how it’s part of your writing ritual.”

I think about how he used to watch me as his wolf, unbeknownst to me. “That reminds me—no more peeking! I thought you were a dog that couldn’t read. I don’t like when people read my stuff before it’s done.”

Maxum enters the room, his brow cocked and eyeing how I’m plastered to Arran like a baby monkey. “If you are healthy enough to jump on werewolves, then I think I should heal you up and give you your first magic lesson.”

“Oh, yes, a magic sexual healing will commence forthwith!”

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