Page 56 of Thirsty
This time, he was distracted as he initialed page after page by thoughts of Charlie. Charlie, so smart and funny and sharp around the edges, turned out to be...touchable.
Very touchable.
Nothing like Charlie’s dream, which had been intense but insubstantial. Last night had been solidly, spine-tinglingly real—violent, hot, and consuming.
But it was still Charlie. Lorenzo had no idea what last night meant to him, or what would happen now.
And he ached all over. He knew it wasn’t from the crash; those injuries had healed almost instantly. This was something else.
Once he was done with the paperwork, he sent the pack lawyers on their way. A few moments later a knock came at the door, and he answered, assuming one of them had left a pen.
Charlie stood in his doorway, looking up at him with his big amber eyes, his lips parted.
They stared at each other for a long moment while thewe had sex last nightof it all just hung there, freezing everything.
Then Lorenzo shook his head slightly. Charlie cleared his throat. “Uh. Hi.”
“Hello,” Lorenzo said, standing aside so that Charlie could enter without any risk of touching him at all. He wanted to ask what he was doing here, but that would probably come out as hostile. So he said, “How are you feeling?”
Charlie’s eyes widened. “After the crash,” Lorenzo said gruffly. “Are you injured?”
“Oh! No, I’m—I’m good. A bit of whiplash, I think, but—I’m good.” He touched his neck absently as he spoke, but it looked more like a nervous tic than anything else.
“Good,” Lorenzo said.
“Um. I wanted to—” Charlie finally made eye contact with him, and broke off in a nervous grin. “I’m sorry,” he said, scratching his neck and pulling a flyer out of his bag. “I wanted to show you this.”
It was a flyer for an art show at a small local museum. “Why?”
“It looks like it’s supernatural,” Charlie said, leaning over to look at it with him. Lorenzo pulled back slightly, just enough to keep a plausible distance between them. “I mean, is it? I think I’m getting pretty good at telling.”
He was so damn handsome when he got excited about something—his eyes lit up, his eyelashes fluttered, and his lipscurved into a half smile that made Lorenzo feel like the floor was pitching underfoot.
He forced himself to examine the flyer more closely. When he realized what he was looking at, he frowned. “Well—it—yes,” he said. “It’s...”
“What?”
“It’s...succubi,” Lorenzo said grimly. “And incubi.”
“Succubi,” Charlie said, weighing the word carefully. “Like...”
There was a long, strained pause while they stared at each other, neither willing to put it into words. Charlie swallowed, his throat bobbing. Finally, Lorenzo managed, “Mm-hmm.”
“So—it’s an art show put on by...”
“Yes.”
Charlie frowned, thinking this through. “Is it a live sex show?”
“No,” Lorenzo said. “Well, a little. It—this is just a thing they do. They’re very...artistic and high-minded.” He sighed. “It’s stupid, sexy art.”
“I need to see this,” Charlie declared.
“That’s not a good idea,” Lorenzo said.
Charlie looked up at him furtively. “Because of...?”Because of us?
Lorenzo scowled. “No, because they can be dangerous to humans. They can influence human behavior, get inside your head.”
