Insatiable Craving: 2 (Insatiable Nights) (21 page)

“You’re no fun.”

Ginny smirked and nudged his shoulder with hers. “That’s not what you said this morning.”

A dark shiver of arousal tingled down his spine. Razor’s dick stirred and began to swell. She could push his buttons like nothing else. A small smile. A knowing look. A throwaway line dancing the boundary between banter and flirtation. At this rate, the sun would explode before he’d had his fill. “Unless you want me to shove you against the nearest wall, you might want to watch what you say.”

“Hmm. Promises, promises.”

He growled, fur sprouting and pressing against his clothes and his world exploded into a bombardment of sensations. Ginny released a high-pitched giggle-shriek, taking off toward his office. A rookie mistake. Once he got her behind closed doors—

A bright wave of blue knocked him off his feet before the thought could mature. Razor yelped and shook his head, the parade of overwhelming sensations retreating at the onslaught of a throbbing headache. He blinked until the spots disappeared, then looked up to see Ginny’s concerned face hovering above his.

He grinned in spite of himself. “Hello, gorgeous.”

“Are you okay?”

“Sure. Tell Nana to get me a fruit cup.”

“Reyvon…”

Razor shook his head again, forcing himself to sit up. “No, it’s good. I’m okay. Just think I threw my back out.”

“What the hell was that?”

He opened his mouth to answer her but another voice beat him to it.

“That was me,” Aria said from what sounded like a thousand miles away. In actuality, she stood in the mouth of the hallway, looking a little sheepish, her hands still up as though she was trying to determine whether or not to send another antidotal wave his way. “Sorry. Razor starts to wolf out and I knock it out of him.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Aria. Next time try not to knock me all the way to Singapore, will you?”

“Hey, you were going all furry. I just did what you’ve wanted me to do every time that’s happened.”

“Well, don’t do that anymore.”

“Really?” Aria’s voice rang with incredulity and excitement. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack.” Among other things, he had decided not to keep his wolf bottled up. It did little to diminish the animal’s power or call. If anything, it seemed worse—more dangerous and less predictable—trying to contain the beast.

But that was a conversation for another time. Razor drew in a sharp breath and forced himself to his feet. Then he tossed a cautious glance at Ginny. They hadn’t discussed much what would happen after they arrived—actually leaving the apartment had been a large enough step.

She hadn’t exactly been thrilled at the prospect of leaving—afraid, as he’d been, the harsh light of reality would shatter what they’d managed to build together. She hadn’t said as much, of course, but he felt it. This was new for her, and God knew it was new for him. For the first time he stood with something beyond his life to lose. He had someone he loved, someone who meant more than the world to him, and while their connection was strong it was also incredibly young. He hadn’t felt like taking it for a test spin.

Yet the world wouldn’t wait forever. Nor would Aria, from the messages she’d left. They had to return to reality at some point.

“Aria,” Razor said slowly. “You remember Ginny, right?”

Ginny hurried forward and stuck out her hand as if she were an insurance salesperson. “Ginny,” she said. “From the dance floor and the bathroom and Razor’s office.”

Aria cast her extended hand a somewhat amused glance. “Yes, I remember you. You’re Razor’s mate.”

Razor blinked. “Guess that settles it.”

“Also the reason he hasn’t returned my calls in two days.”

“It hasn’t been that long,” he argued. “She’s really my mate?”

Aria snickered. “This is why you answer your goddamn phone when I call, Romeo,” she drawled, then nodded to Ginny. “Judging by the beauty mark on your neck, Razor’s already made it permanent.”

“My mate,” Razor echoed. Warmth spread through his chest.

“What does that mean?” Ginny asked, shuffling close to him. “His mate.”

Aria studied them a long moment, then finally settled her focus on Razor. “How much does she know?”

“What?”

“Well, I’m guessing you flashed some fang at some point to give her that mark, and you seemed a little devil-may-care with wolfing out just a moment ago. Does she know everything? About you?”

Ginny waved a hand. “
She
is standing right here. And if you’re talking about Razor being a werewolf, yes, we covered that.”

The blonde inhaled deeply. “Good. And you seem…okay with it.”

“Well, I’m still in a bit of a shock. But yeah.” Ginny tossed Razor a look, and his heart warmed at her smile. “I’m okay.”

Okay was such a mild word. In the thousand and one other things Razor had to be thankful for, Ginny’s seemingly endless source of understanding and patience ranked at the top. “She’s amazing,” he whispered. “Absolutely amazing.”

“Barf.” Aria made a gagging noise, then winked at Ginny. “Him. Not you. I really gotta say, for a chick who passed out in my bathroom a couple nights ago, you have made remarkable progress in the whole
monsters exist
thing.”

“You can tell?” she asked.

“Kinda obvious. With the whole, you know, you not being passed-out thing.”

“Hmm.” Ginny beamed. “Guess it’s in my blood.”

Aria’s nose wrinkled. “Huh?”

“My father owns a tabloid.”

She looked no less confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I dunno. Maybe it made me more open-minded. Now what did that
mate
business mean?”

The witch took another moment to look from Ginny to Razor and back again, then shrugged a shoulder, apparently willing to drop the subject for now. “Pretty much what you’d expect it to mean. Wolves mate for life. Apparently when you walked into the club the first time, something in him just fixed on you. And you fixed back on him because, according to the articles I read…he’s not a natural wolf. And neither are you.”

Ginny cleared her throat. “I… Unless I’m mistaken, I’m not a wolf at all.”

“Exactly.”

Razor and Ginny exchanged a glance. “You know,” he said, “that makes the kinda sense that doesn’t.”

Ginny snorted. “You noticed that too, eh?”

Aria heaved a sigh. “Look, there’s a lot less out there on the interwebs concerning humans-turned-wolf than wolves from birth. My guess is what happened to you, Raz, was probably an anomaly.”

“An anomaly,” he echoed.

“Right. Bearing in mind I could be wrong—”

“And usually are,” he muttered.

Aria leveled a glare at him. “You know what, jackass? I’m here because I did you a favor. A thankless favor, as per ushe. But unless you want me to flush all the info I uncovered, can you can the asides and let me talk?” Without waiting for a response, she turned back to Ginny. “Packs are extremely independent and self-sustaining, and they have no trouble keeping their numbers up the old-fashioned way, so new wolves are rarely made the way Razor was. I don’t yet have a good reason as to why you responded to him the way a wolf would. Maybe there’s just something in you. Maybe you were
meant
to be a wolf, the way Razor was.”

Razor exhaled, his stomach bottoming out. He’d never once considered his path predetermined. Though now, right now, standing where he stood with Ginny at his side, he couldn’t claim regret for where life had led him. That was a first.

An earth-shattering first.

“Either way,” Aria continued, “welcome to the family.” She nodded at Ginny, then aimed a glare at Razor. “And you’re an ass.”

“What… I…” He shook his head and looked to Ginny. “What does this mean?”

“Are you kidding me?” Aria yelped. “I just told you!”

“Yes, but what does that mean?” Razor frowned, his eyes falling on the bite he’d left on Ginny’s throat. The beauty mark, as Aria put it. He’d been driven by a need to taste her, stake his claim, but that hadn’t been singular to their lovemaking last night. Every time he was with her he was driven with an urge to possess her fully. It didn’t make a lick of sense for someone he hadn’t known.

Not that it made any more sense for a woman he’d known only a couple days, but that didn’t seem to be the point.

Aria groaned and clasped her hands together. “Next time you’re doing your own goddamn homework. Like I said, from the top, wolves mate for life. There’s some debate on whether or not the mates are predetermined or whatever, but all signs point to you two simply being pulled together in a cosmic case of right-place-right-time. Some wolves are sexually active before finding their mate, and others are only tied down to one. Seeing as you two have been like fucking magnets since you started—well, fucking—I’m going to speculate that the pull has been on this side of mystic.” She held up a hand. “I don’t know everything. I hardly know anything. That’s just what twelve hours of internet research were able to yield, and some of the sources conflict with each other. All I know is with that mark on your neck,” she nodded to Ginny again, ”and the accompanying words of ownership, you two are all with the mystical bond. Still, and I can’t stress this enough, this does not give you the right to blow me off.”

Razor grumbled and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I called in to let you know I wasn’t coming in last night.”

“A three-second phone call ten minutes before stage-time does not constitute a conversation!” Aria huffed and grasped her amulet as though trying to ground herself. She was becoming much too dependent on that thing, but this didn’t seem to be the appropriate time to share that opinion. “Especially after I hauled ass across town to bring you steak and an overnight bag. You could’ve told me then.”

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Ginny aimed an accusatory glance his way. “You didn’t?”

Razor shook his head. “I could have sworn I did.”

“No,” Aria said, shaking her head. “That didn’t call didn’t come ’til later.”

“Well, you should’ve figured when I asked you to pack a bag. If I was coming in, I could’ve done that myself.”

Aria’s brown eyes darkened a shade. “Do you have a death wish or something?”

“Stop acting like you’re not happy for me.”

The witch huffed again but opted not to pursue the discussion. Instead, she demanded, “Are you or are you not playing tonight?”

“I’m playing tonight,” Razor said, nodding. He wasn’t through with the whole “mate” conversation though. No, he had a feeling that discussion wouldn’t be over for a good long while. “And Ginny works here.”

Aria shrugged as though this was old news. “Yeah, I figured.”

“How did you figure?” Ginny asked. “I didn’t even agree until this morning.”

“Well, put it this way. If he hadn’t offered you a job, I would have. You two being apart right now is not a good idea. I’ve actually been searching Amazon for the sturdiest-looking fold-out couch they have for your office.” Aria snickered. “For someone who didn’t plan on getting much action for the rest of his life, you’re probably gonna die of a broken dick.”

“Love the imagery.”

The blonde grinned. “I do what I can.”

“I still don’t understand what you mean by natural wolf,” Ginny volunteered. “How is Razor not a natural wolf? He seemed natural enough to me.”

“It means he wasn’t born a wolf,” Aria explained. “Lycanism was forced on him.”

“And there’s a difference?”

Razor nodded. “Yeah, we didn’t talk about this much.”

Aria snorted. “I’m getting that.”

“She found out I was a werewolf by accident.”

“You accidentally wolfed out on her?”

“No,” Razor snapped, suddenly defensive. “I did not accidentally ‘wolf out’ on her. Let me be absolutely clear that did not happen.” He looked to Ginny for support, but received only a narrow look and an arched eyebrow. Perhaps he was being overly aggressive. He turned back to Aria and sighed, his shoulders dropping. “Except…yes, that’s what happened.”

Aria laughed again and shook her head. “I tell you, when you fall, you fall hard.”

“No one invited you to speak.”

“Oh go play with a chew toy. I’m just answering the girl’s questions.” Aria sighed and looked at Ginny. “Don’t mind him,” she said, batting a hand. “He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“I don’t really know what to say to that,” Ginny responded.

“At least you’re honest,” the blonde stated. “Anyway, as I was saying, Razor’s not lycan-by-birth. There are any number of mystical creatures whose…well, mysticism is communicable via bite. And there are just as many, and likely many more, whose mysticism—like, say, mine—isn’t contagious. With weres, you’re either born one or made into one…unlike with vamps, when no one is born one. Does that make sense?”

From the look on Ginny’s face, it made enough sense for a few things to trouble her. She reached up and fingered the mark at her throat. “I’m not going to become one, am I?” she asked. “Or—”