Our first bonding experience involved ice cream. Not bondage, bonding. I needed to make sure I said the word clearly when I repeated the story to Jezze in infinite detail down to the fact that he dripped a little bit of vanilla…

Ahem.

I snuggled into the love seat, a piece of furniture that somehow magically —angelically?—appeared in my living room. The leather gave beneath me, the scratched and scarred surface welcoming me in the soft cushions. I slid the spoon between my lips, allowing the sweet flavors to slither down my throat, and I moaned in appreciation. Comfy seat, yummy ice cream, and smoking hot man. What more could a girl want?

A claiming bite…

I ignored my wolf.

My feet dangled over the edge of the seat, heels thumping against the frame. I hadn’t bothered tugging off the boots when I’d come home, too excited to see if Sam followed through with his decree and moved in. Then everything was overshadowed by Sam and ice cream. He was a god among angels.

I just wouldn’t say the words aloud. On High could be pissy.

The TV played some random late-night show, the host being zany, the guests fake as hell, and the musical guests lip-syncing with the best of them. Which meant I could pretend to watch while actually staring at Sam on the sly.

Except, when I looked at him from the corner of my eye, it was to find him outright staring at me. All righty then.

I decided that if he could focus on me, I could return the favor. I wiggled around, shifting until I sat sideways on the loveseat, back resting against the arm and one knee resting on the smooth surface. I dug in and slid an ice cream caked spoon between my lips, moaning at the sugary sweetness. Sam’s eyes darkened, the pale blue transforming to a deep navy.

“Caith,” he wheezed.

“Wha’?” I opened my eyes wide, feigning an innocence I’d never had.

I thumped my shoe against the seat again, the movement subconscious, but it snared his attention.

Sam set his empty carton and spoon aside and then turned back to me. “C’mere. Gimme.”

I furrowed my brow, tugging the utensil free. “Huh?”

He didn’t answer, simply snagged one pant leg and then the other, tugging my feet onto the furniture. Hell, onto his lap.

“Ew, Sam.” I wrinkled my nose. Stinky feet were a regular occurrence in the Morningstar household.

“Hush,” he murmured, his attention not straying from the maze of laces and hooks that kept my boots in place. Deft fingers released the knots, aged ties coming undone with ease and before I knew it, Sam slid first one boot and then the other from my feet.

I sighed in relief. After a long day, there was nothing more heavenly (heh) than tugging off my boots and stretching my toes. Now Sam had half of that chore handled. And then some. Because then the socks were gone and after that… oh, wait, I had discovered heaven and it came in the form of Sam’s magic hands.

“Oh…” I moaned. “Right there.”

That drew a chuckle from the gel and I couldn’t find the energy to be annoyed at his laughter. Nope, especially not when he dug his knuckle into my arch and…

“Don’t stop,” I groaned.

“Never.”

I let my eyes drift closed, body relaxing as Sam stroked and massaged my feet, fingers kneading my tense muscles. His hands glided over my skin, poking and prodding areas that had me whining and moaning as the knots released.

“That’s it.” I sighed. “I need you to be here every day. I can forgive your goody-goody tendencies as long as you do this.”

“Uh-huh. What do I get to forgive your die-everyone-die desires?”

I snorted. “I only have a handful of people on my hit list at the moment. You make it sound as if I’m Uncle Luc.”

“Not an answer.”

I forced my eyes open and quirked a brow. My answer tumbled out before I had a chance to think the words through. “I am the best cocksucker south of the Mason-Dixon.” I was sure I could hear a pin drop because those few words brought us back around to our great big problem. I coughed and cleared my throat. “Sorry.” I struggled against his gentle hold. “Never mind.”

“Nope, you’re not getting away that easily.” He held me fast. In fact, he yanked me closer, manhandling me and repositioning me as he desired until I straddled his lap.

“This is getting to be a habit.” My wolf howled in approval, loving being this close to him.

“We need to get past this.” His eyes were too intent, his gaze searching my features and I turned my head, afraid of what he’d find.

“I’m good. Nothing to get past.”

“On High doesn’t like liars.” His lips turned up into a seductive grin.

“Good thing On High already hates me,” I shot back. I knew the truth even if Sam refused to open his eyes. “The Morningstars are the shit on On High’s boots, Sam. I don’t know why he gave you cash to use or why he’s letting you take time to explore this. The fact remains I’m a demon—”

“Half.”

“—and you’re a gel. A full gel.” I dared him to disagree.

Sam shrugged. “I’m not gonna question him on this one. He’s giving me a vacation and I’m going to take it. Period.”

I leaned forward, resting my forehead against his. The position soothed me, calmed the wolf and allowed me to just breathe. “I’ll be honest, I don’t know how this is gonna work, but I don’t wanna let you go.”

“I figure this relationship is like any other.”

“And you came to this conclusion how?”

He brushed his lips across mine and I fought the urge to simply tackle him and go at him like a cheesecake. “Compromise.”

“Huh?”

“What did you plan on doing with that human from two weeks ago?”

I winced. “That depends on how you’ll feel when I tell you. Hypothetically, conjecture-ly, he’d be feeding Francois and the girls though the femur sometimes gets caught in Franky’s throat and I gotta chop that bit—”

Sam pressed a finger to my lips, quieting me. “And I’m supposed to leave him be and let him get sorted out after he dies in fifty or so years. Instead, I handed him off and made the vamp promise not to permanently injure or kill him.”

“That’s a lot of leeway considering vamps don’t feel like vamp-dom is dead, but if you ask the witch doctor on 53^rd—”

“We’re not talking about the witch doctor. We’re talking about you, me, and compromise.”

“Compromise?” I wasn’t sure it was a word in my dictionary.

“Yes, you let me have my goody-two-shoes way sometimes and other times I’ll let you destroy to your heart’s content.”

I nibbled my lower lip. “I gotta think about this. We need a guide. Like, are zombies fair game? What about the green-eyed vamps? Or regular vamps? Then there’s the traffic cop who patrols outside the bar. That guy is cruising for a destroying.”

That last bit got me the smile I’d been hunting. “That was a reach there.”

“Girl’s gotta work with what she’s got.” I grinned.

“Uh-huh.” He leaned forward, giving me another of those sweet kisses. I had to admit that while the nearly chaste brushes left me frustrated, they were also tender and touching. They weren’t a rush to the finish line like I was familiar with.

“Are we gonna have clear guidelines though? Like, I get hell demons and you get fairies?”

Sam jerked away. “How come you get hell demons? Maybe they need a little forgiveness.”

I snorted. “Hell demons? Ha! They’d rip your head off for even saying that.” I patted his chest. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

“By what? Glaring at them?”

“You know I’m a badass. Don’t be a hater.”

“I still think I get hell demons.” He squeezed my hips, reminding me that his hands still stroked my body. “You can have fairies.”

I reared back, disgust filling me. “What the hell am I gonna do with fairies. They whine when you try and burn their wings.”

“Aw, come on. Don’t tell me you tried to—”

“I was three.” I rolled my eyes. “And I didn’t have a magnifying glass, I had hellfire. And their wings were so…” I shuddered, “fluttery.”

“On High, help me,” he murmured. “How about we agree to leave our respective homeland residents alone and we’ll negotiate the tweens. I get final say on humans.”

What he said made sense yet… “I get the big, non-vegetative tweens. The leaf bearing peeps tend to be passive.”

“You don’t think I should take the big ones?”

I pressed my lips together. “Why? You don’t think I can handle myself? Because I can so shove my sword so far up your—”

“Anybody home?” The loud voice boomed through the house and I groaned. “I brought pizza, Caith!”

That had me groaning again.

Sam growled, his hands digging into my hips and his arms tensed as if he were about to push me from his lap and destroy the newcomer. That so wasn’t happening. I’d finally found help, I wasn’t about to lose them over a growly angel.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and yanked him toward me, plastering my lips to his in a deep, passionate kiss. It was filled with tongue and teeth, moans and groans, and shifts and rubs. His cock was hard and hot against my pussy, leather separating us and keeping me from taking and claiming him. But… I wouldn’t do that without his permission or a loudly screamed “bite me, baby.”

So I remained tangled with him, my nipples pebbling and hardening, quietly begging to be stroked and plucked. He’d nibble and suck the nubs, make me scream and writhe for him…

The heavy thump of combat boots on marble flooring reached me and it definitely reached Sam because he tore his mouth from mine. And the second the kiss ended, he was back to growling.

“What’s he doing here?”

The seductive scent of fresh pizza, extra cheese, extra pepperoni, reached me, calling to my stomach. Damn, the man knew how to order a pizza. My tummy growled, the beast echoing the sound, and saliva pooled in my mouth. I hadn’t eaten anything substantial all day and—

“I live here,” Bergamot mumbled around what had to be a mouthful of pizza.

So. Jealous.

“You—” Sam snarled as he pushed me from his lap. He at least shoved me aside rather than tilting me backward. I should be thankful for that, right?

“Yeah, dude. Want a slice?”

I flipped my hair from my eyes and finally surveyed the two men. Sam was all indignant angel and Bergamot was… Bergamot. The man was as sweet as the day was long, but tended to be oblivious to undercurrents. He was very much a “say what you mean” kind of guy. Which I liked. Good or bad, I knew where I stood with the brownie.

Sam now glared at the droopy slice of pizza Bergamot held out for him and then that glacial stare swayed to the brownie. “No, I don’t want a slice. I want to know why you’re in my girl—in Caith’s house.”

Aw, he almost called me his girlfriend. Which was cute. And touching since no man had ever… In hundreds of years…

“I live here.” Berg shrugged and focused on me. He switched targets, urging the piece toward me. “Want it?”

I spared a glance for Sam and decided to ignore the man’s glare. “Sure.”

The crust was still hot, the cheese still melted and gooey. Heaven in the tween now rested in my hand. I folded it in half and took a massive bite, filling my mouth with the hot wonderfulness.

I closed my eyes and released a moan. “Damn, that’s good.”

“Caith,” Sam snapped. I should probably pay attention. Soon even.

After one more bite.

“Caith.”

“Wha’?” I mumbled.

“What is he doing in your house?” If Sam were a demon, his eyes would be sparkling red and fire would have coated his skin.

Instead, he just looked like a really angry man.

“Live here, man.” Berg’s words were equally mumbled and those three syllables had Sam twitching and tensing.

Oh, that expression did not look good. I swallowed hard, pushing the remainder of the bite down my throat and slid into the small space between Sam and Berg.

“Sam, you remember Bergamot? You arranged for his family to work for me, remember?”

“Yeah,” another mumble from Berg. “Thanks for that, man.”

I spun toward Bergamot. “Berg, take the pizza to the kitchen. We’ll be there in a sec.”

The half-brownie’s face fell. “No Kung-fu theater tonight? I thought we were gonna watch—”

Sam was tense as a tree behind me, his violence barely suppressed. “No, maybe tomorrow night. Lemme just… Go away, Berg.”

“Where—”

“Go. Away.” I glared. Men were so very dense sometimes.

“Fine,” Berg grumbled.

The second Bergamot was out of sight, I spun toward Sam.

“I want him. I’m judging his brownie ass,” Sam growled.

“No,” I shook my head. “I got the big ones, remember. He’s big.”

“Brownies are small. Makes him mine.”

“But he’s a big brownie. That puts him back in my arena.”

More growling and I really shouldn’t be turned on by his aggression. “He won’t be anywhere near you if he’s smart.”

Ignoring the bits of pizza residue on my hands, I laid my palms against his chest. “He’s one of my brownies, Sam. You hired the family.”

“Is he living here with you?” He took a deep breath.

“You know where brownies live.” Everyone knew brownies lived with their employers.

Except when they randomly disappeared like Dead Nettle’s crew. As soon as I got my hands on those guys…

“I don’t want him here.” The words were sharp and fierce and I… did not give a flying fuck.

“I’m glad compromising is working already,” I drawled and ignored his fiery glare. “Seriously, Sam. You hired the family and he’s an okay kid. He does a good job at the bar and doesn’t cause trouble here at home. Honestly, I love Blooming’s whole family.”

“You better not love him,” he grumbled.

I basked in this new feeling for a moment. A man was jealous. Over me. I needed a plaque engraved to commemorate the moment.

“Compromise, Sam.”

“Fine,” he huffed. “I’ll let you kill the next human if you let me take out the overgrown brownie. That’s fair.”

I had to admit, it was very, very tempting…