Page 10 of Castor
More customers filed into the store, some buying things and others just browsing. When the front door opened again a while later, I started to say my customary greeting before the words died on my lips.
With vibrant red hair, green eyes that sparkled like emeralds, piercings in his eyebrow, nose, and lip, and a face chiseled to perfection—he was unforgettable.
“Castor,” I said, surprised.
“You remember my name. I’m flattered.” A smirk played at the edge of his mouth as he neared the counter and leaned against it.
“Well, I saved you from a pit filled with demons who wanted to kill you, flay you, and probably wear your skin as a trophy. Kind of hard to forget something like that.”
“I had it handled,” Castor said.
“Uh-huh. Sure you did.” I dropped my gaze back to my laptop screen. “Nice to see you replaced your piercings.”
When he was tortured, all of his piercings had been ripped out. The dude had been covered in blood from head to toe when I’d found him. Even still, he had fought. Refused to surrender. I admired that about him.
“I’m kinda attached to them.” He touched his lip ring.
“They suit you.” I pretended to be absorbed in something on my laptop instead of being hyperaware of him staring at me.
“Think so? I’ve had many looks over the years,” Castor said, drawing my attention back to him. Not like I’d ever fullystoppedpaying attention to him. He flicked his tongue ring against his teeth in a flirty little way. “I think this look is my favorite. Feels more like me.”
“Living for so long gives you the freedom to try a ton of different things. I have to ask though… is that your real hair color?”
“Yep.”
“I think you’re lying.”
He leaned in closer. “I have ways of proving it if you don’t believe me. Like taking you in the back room and showing you my bright red pubes.”
“Dude.” I pushed away from the counter. “I’m about to eat lunch. Don’t ruin my appetite.”
Castor chuckled. “Your loss.”
My blood heated at the thought of pulling down his pants and nuzzling him there. Of taking him into my mouth. It wasn’t the first time I’d fantasized about the red-haired Nephilim. He’d pretty much been the star of my fantasies for the past two months. And I was clueless as to why. I never got hung up on guys, especially ones I didn’t even know.
“Why are you here?” I asked, frustrated.
“To pick up Gray. Al wants him home.”
“Why?”
“Little dude’s still recovering. He acts like he’s fine, but he wears out easy.”
“Isn’t that common for Gray? He’s always sleeping.”
“So many questions.” Castor clicked his tongue. “If you want answers, you need to give me some in return.”
“What kind of answers?”
“Like why you keep staring at my lips.”
Heat shot up my neck and spread to the tips of my ears. I met his gaze, seeing a gleam of mischief in his green eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
The bastard was mocking me. This was the longest conversation we’d ever had, and I’d quickly learned that he enjoyed toying with me. Pressing my buttons. But fuck, why did I like it?
“Gray is in Simon’s loft.” I tore my gaze from him and clicked a new tab on my laptop.
