Page 1 of Don't Bite The Boss
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“Get out, asshole.”
“Pardon?”
“You heard me,” I place my pen down on my desk, lean back in my chair and stare at the tall Armani-suit-wearing man before me, “get the fuck out.”
“Look, either you have Tourette’s, or you are labouring under some serious misunderstanding.”
“No misunderstanding, dickhead, you’ve made it very obvious how you feel about my business over the past year or so. Serena needs you at home. If you are here to thank me for saving her life, forget it, she saved us all when your ‘fail-safe’ security system shat itself. Go home and figure out where you and your family can run, it’s all we can do now.”
He doesn’t move.
“Off you go.” I wave my hand in a shooing motion.
“I’m not sure I follow much of what you just said,” he shrugs, “but I got the gist of it about Serena? If you will just let me…”
I shake my head, narrow my eyes and hold my hand up to stall whatever he is planning to say as I consider him where he stands, hands in pockets, stance nonchalant and confident despite my abuse.
My anger builds as my thoughts race.
‘Why can’t Serena see? His arrogance and his money won’t protect him from here on out; he is far too weak, too fragile. She shouldn’t pin her heart on this bastard lasting the distance, especially after what we just experienced.He’s going to be murdered one of these days, and it’s going to destroy her. She won’t do what has to be done. I could. In fact, it will give me great pleasure to do it – two birds with one stone, bite the asshole; save my friend from sorrow.’
“You know,” I snarl a millisecond later, “I think I’m going to fix things here, now.”
Jumping at lightning speed over my desk, teeth bared, my eyes widen as I get a whiff of his blood, his scent.
‘Oh fuck, he smells delicious. And he looks so fuckable – oh hell, I’m lusting after my best friend’s prick of a husband now? I must be having a mental breakdown. Maybe one of Solomon’s minions hit me too hard on the head during the attack the other night – Jesus Christ, I must be brain damaged.’
‘Why haven’t I noticed your smell before?” I pant, fangs extended as I hurl him against the wall. Suddenly I don’t just want to nip him, to change him to a vampire, I want to drain him.
‘Stop, I’ve got to stop. Why can’t I stop?’
“You don’t want to do this,” he growls, echoing my own tumultuous inner-monologue and pushing hard against me, his eyes turning to flint.
I shake my head and go in for the bite, but he struggles, he is stronger than he looks, and he twists at the last minute in a way I wouldn’t anticipate for someone not trained in martial arts. My bite misses his neck and only hits his shoulder. I can’t taste his blood through his thick jacket, and I desperatelyneedto taste it.
‘This is wrong. This is wrong. Serena loves him, I have to let him go.’
“Argh,” he knocks me aside, and I don’t try to stop him as he struggles free from my grip and sprints out the door.
Confused, I shake my head. In all the time I’ve been around him, I’ve never wanted to drink him for a meal. Sure, I wanted to bite him, to hurt him and wipe that arrogant smile from his billionaire face, but I never found his blood or his body irresistible. Why now?
‘Doesn’t matter. Once he’s vampire, I won’t want any part of him.’
“That’s all it needed to be, Christopher,” I shout to his retreating back, “one bite. You’ll thank me for this one day.”
Immediately, I wonder if he will, and begin to second guess my actions.
‘Oh, shit.’
Covering my face with my hands, I take a deep breath and, groaning, walk to my desk and slump down, placing the call I know I need to make, to Serena.
“You what?” she screams down the line.
“Bit him. I bit Christopher, I’m sorry.”
‘Well, sort of, not really, maybe just a little. Why did he smell so good? And by the way, I also want to fuck your husband.’
