Page 85 of Overexposed

“Seven’s in no hurry to get back to his library,” Stella drawled from her weird position, using the remote to select the next episode of whatever trash she was watching. “He was just telling me how much hedesperatelywanted to suck my toes while I watchIs It Cake?”

The cleaner—Flora—gasped in embarrassment, shock, or horror, or a mixture of the three, before disappearing back down the hall to continue her work.

“I’d rather suck on a poisonous snake than your toes, Stray,” I growled, smacking her foot off my lap. The motion unbalanced her position and she slid off the sofa onto the floor headfirst. Which, to my disgust, ended up with Ollie’s T-shirt over her head and totally exposing those lush tits in all their upside-down glory.

“Dickhead,” she snapped back, rolling and rearranging herself to sit on the floor with her back to the sofa. Her T-shirt was back in place. “Snakes are venomous, not poisonous, you moron.”

I puffed out a long breath, folding my legs to hide my thickening cock. It wasn’therthat I was attracted to—it was just tits in general that turned me on. They could have been Flora’s and I’d still be rocking a semi right now.

“Whatever. I was going to offer you something nice, since you generously waived our agreed fee for your public appearances with Gem, but now I changed my mind.”

Her head whipped around, suspicion etched over every inch of her pretty face. “You don’t donice, Demon Spawn.”

Okay, she had a point. That wasn’t to say I didn’t ever do nice things, but as far as our interactions went? Yeah, her point wasvalid. “Well, I don’tnow. Are you seriously sitting here watching a reality TV show about cake making?”

Her eye roll was infuriating. “It’s about cakedecorating, dumbass. The whole point is that they’re so realistic you don’t know which item is real and which is cake. See this one?” She gestured to the TV where on the podiums there were five different sneakers. The camera zoomed in on one. “Is it cake?”

I wrinkled my nose, confused. “No. That’s a shoe.” Then watched in fascination as the host took a huge knife and cut straight through the toe of the shoe. “Holy crap, it was cake.”

“See, it’s genius,” she muttered, utterly enthralled once more by her show.

Somehow, don’t fucking ask me how, I sat there watching the rest of the episode with her—plus two more—and got genuinely fired up when I guessed the wrong bag of cash at the end. Then cursed when I saw what time it was.

“Get dressed, Stray,” I ordered. “We were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago.”

“Leave? For what?” She did get up off the couch, where she’d made herself comfy a while ago, so that was a step in the right direction.

I blew out a sigh, raking my fingers through my hair. “Does it matter? You didn’t have any plans today anyway. Come on, I’ll pull the car around.”

I started for the door when she called after me. “Is this a paid date, Spawn?”

Sassy bitch.

“Sure. Whatever. Just put some pants on, for the love of fuck. And a bra.” Although, I couldn’t say I’d be too disappointed if she forgot that part.

Damn it. I needed to get laid so freaking bad.

I pulled out one of my lesser-used cars—a Mercedes—and waited impatiently for Stella to slide into the passenger seat, sadly fully clothed.

“So are you telling me where we’re going?” she asked, weaving her inky hair into a loose braid over her shoulder.

I could tell her, but why make things easy? “Nope. You’re getting paid for your time, Stray, just go with the flow. Better this than lurking around behind bushes taking photos of my colleagues anyway.”

“I don’t lurk,” she grumbled, folding her arms and staring out her window.

We were quiet most of the drive, our only conversation happening when I tried to put on the radio and she insulted my choice of station, then I obviously had to make fun of her for her shitty taste in music.

“Okay, why have you brought me here?” she finally asked when I pulled into the warehouse parking lot.

I smirked, then climbed out and went around to open her door for her. “You have no idea where we are, do you?”

“Absolutely no idea,” she replied, agreeing. Just then, the door to the closest warehouse opened and a gray-haired woman in overly large chunky-framed glasses stepped out with a severe scowl.

I suppressed a shudder.

“Seven, you’re late. And you brought a friend.”

“Sorry, Janice, my girlfriend and I just lost track of time this morning. You know how new relationships are, all hot and heavy.” I kept my hand on Stella’s elbow, keeping her right by my side as I approached the scowling woman. “This is Stella, the light of my life.”

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