Page 19 of Tentacles and Teeth

Fenn

My fist landed with a gratifying thud; once, twice, three times. Frustration still churned in my gut, and I ground the heel of my hand into the doughy visage before me. Pound. Five days figuring out the matrix for that fucking topaz. Smack. A piece of gods’ bedamned art, exceeding specs and falling under budget. Twist. Time fucking wasted, thanks to the “helpfulness” of my client.

The smirking bastard representing the Henderson Conclave had nodded with steepled fingers as he pretended to listen to my presentation. Only when I’d finished had he deigned to inform me he’d decided to use an array of quartz rather than the topaz I’d slaved over. That I’d completed the schematics already, as agreed, was “unfortunate.” Questions about the kickback he was getting from the shady back-alley gem merchant who’d sold him the new stones—and just happened to be his cousin—were “irrelevant and unprofessional.” Fucking asshole.

I worked the dough for another minute, letting the aggression I’d held back that morning burn through my muscles. When I’d finished and it was in a cloth-covered bowl rising, I went about cleaning up. As I wiped down the counter, I admitted to myself that my reaction was intense, even for me. It was Katarina, of course. Or rather, my frustrated obsession with her.

She hadn’t called. Sid had given her my number on Sunday. Three days of no contact later and my mood was darker than a new moon night. That Sid was strutting around with a great big smile on her face from all the “talking”theywere doing didn’t help a fucking bit. I didn’t begrudge Katarina the decision she’d obviously made, but the disappointment was like claws in my gut. She was flying back tomorrow, and when Sid had told me they had a date the following night, bitter longing had burned in my throat like acid.

I was debating whether to go to the mountains for the weekend or find someone to fuck this fixation out with—although every part of me snarled at the idea—when my phone buzzed. I ignored it. Probably that asshole from the Conclave with some new bullshit. Any response I made in my current state I was guaranteed to regret when I cooled off.

But a few seconds later, it buzzed again. I stalked over, my snarl dying as I read the messages flashing under an unknown number.

Hey. Sorry for not messaging you earlier.

I had some stuff to sort out in my head.

I stared at the phone, my heart pounding. Another message popped onto the screen.

This is Katarina, btw.

I felt the feral grin twist my lips as I threw myself into a sprawl on the couch, fingers tapping out a response before I’d stopped moving.No apologies needed. You don’t owe me anything.I thought for a moment, then added,But I’m really fucking glad to hear from you.

Polyamory is. . .new for me.

But I want to try.

Pleasure burned through me. I tried to rein it in, act as though I was semi-domesticated. I wasn’t, but I could pretend if she needed me to.We can go as slow as you want.

Thank you. So, how was your day?

Gods, this feels awkward.

I grinned. She was damned sweet.Pretty much shit until you texted, honestly.Making myself comfortable, I prepared to enjoy getting to know the woman who’d been haunting me so persistently. As much as I longed to lap up the sweet cream between her legs—and fuck, just the thought made my cock twitch—I was just as curious about what made her tick, made her happy, made her mad. I wanted to soak up everything about her and hoard it like a gods bedamned dragon.

We kept the chat light. After a brief rundown, I pushed the discussion to her work, not wanting to think about the weaselly little asshole making my life more difficult. A business analyst, everything she said made it clear she was both brilliant and respected in her field. Conferences weren’t my deal—too many people, too many of them idiots—but I knew the one she was attending. It was put on by some of the biggest names in the energy industry, and she was a keynote speaker. Fuck, she just kept getting sexier.

She was telling me about the struggles of a small human nonprofit whose president had joined her for lunch—they needed to expand their location, but the available lots were in historically Meta neighborhoods and not set up for humans, making the overall cost prohibitive—when I had an idea.Give them my number, I sent.I think I have a solution.

I was waiting for her text, but my phone rang instead. The corners of my mouth twitched as I lifted it to my ear. “Hey, li’l bit.”

“Explain.”

Her curt response only made my grin widen. “What didn’t you understand?”

Her frustrated “humph” came through loud and clear, and her words dripped with suspicion. “What exactly do you do, Fenn?”

“I’m a conduit engineer,” I laughed, deciding not to torture her. There were other, more pleasurable ways I wanted to make her squirm. “That job I was talking about earlier? It’s a power grid for the Henderson Conclave’s new headquarters. I think I can get a good price on the stone they were going to use, and I’ve already done the design work—and billed them—so the cost would be minimal.”

I could set up a meeting with the Henderson Matriarch, play on her sympathies, and get a good price. Shit, she might even donate it as a charitable contribution for the tax write-off. Slip in just enough about the skimming rep to make his day go sour, and I was suddenly feeling much better about the world.

Katarina was silent for a long moment. “Well, shit. That’s perfect. But...do you want me to wait until you talk to Henderson? In case they don’t want to sell?”

“Nah, I’ll still take the job.”

“Fenn, they can’t pay you. They barely have enough for materials.” Her voice rang with sympathy, but there was no bend in it.

“That’s not a problem.”

---