The apartment had a completely different tone to that of the rest of the building, which didn’t surprise him—Devon would never live in filth. Although the rooms were small, they were also cozy and warm. No grime on the windows or dubious stains on the walls. Her furnishings weren’t top-notch, but they were quirky and clean.
She’d made the best of what space she had, and she’d managed to give the place a surprisingly welcoming feel. There were pictures here, there, and everywhere. Most featured her parents, Harper, Raini, Khloë, and adoptive brother who also happened to be her cousin. It was as if the hellcat liked to surround herself with memories of the people important to her.
Devon Clarke had bags of attitude, but she was also sweet as she smelled—though she hid that soft underbelly from the people outside of her little circle—and never too busy for those she loved. Always made time for them and rushed to their side if they needed her. In his opinion, she didn’t put herself first often enough, which he didn’t like.
He also didn’t like that she lived in this shitty building. Every instinct he possessed urged him to get her out of that hellhole; to put her in a place that didn’t need mouse traps, heavy metal locks, or magickal wards. A place where she wouldn’t be surrounded by what must seem like paper-thin walls to a hellcat’s enhanced hearing.
If he thought for a second that trying to order her out of here would achieve anything, he’d go for it. But Devon wasn’t a person who’d appreciate or allow that kind of interference in her life—something he respected, even as it sometimes annoyed him.
Tanner made a mental note to ask Knox if there were any empty apartments in any of the buildings the Prime owned. Devon didn’t have to be part of their lair to rent one—anyone could. He didn’t say that to her, though. Making disparaging remarks about her home would only poke at her pride.
“You can go now,” she said.
Lips twitching, he heaved a mock sigh. “Always so eager to get rid of me. I’d be offended if I didn’t know you are violently in love with me.”
She gave him a pitying smile. “Being delusional doesn’t help anyone now, does it?”
“Delusional?”
“Sorry, was that too big a word for you? How about ‘pathetic’? Have you heard that one?”
He put a hand to his heart. “That hurt. You should make it up to me. Naked. In bed.”
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t even fuck you for practice.”
He laughed. “God, kitten, you can be such a bitch.”
Devon might have sniped at him for that comment if he hadn’t said it with approval. “It comes naturally to me. And you really should go. Surely you have stuff to do, places to be, people to see.” Like Eleanor, Devon almost added. No, she wouldn’t mention that heifer, unable to trust that her jealousy wouldn’t seep into her words.
“I like it here. It smells of you.” He dipped his head close to her neck and inhaled deeply. “Your scent makes my mouth water.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You think you’re charming, don’t you?”
“The charm comes and goes.”
Devon gave him an indignant huff. “Shouldn’t you be off chasing your tail or something?” Her stomach clenched as his mouth curled into a sensual, panty-dropping smile.
“You’re doing it again,” he said.
“What?”
“Making me want to bite you,” he replied, dropping his voice into bedroom territory. His gaze raked over her in a way that made her pulse spike. “Hmm, I’d like to mark all that pretty skin.”
“And your hound would like to rip it to shreds.”
“At one time, it happily would have skinned you alive. But it’s grown to tolerate you and your demon.”
Okay, that shocked her.
“I’d say your feline has probably grown to tolerate me just the same.”
“Well, it would no longer like to snack on your heart, but it probably also wouldn’t care if said heart abruptly stopped beating. Does that count as ‘tolerating’ you?”
“Yeah, it’s good enough.” Tanner eyed her soft curls, thinking they’d look good fanned over his pillow as he pounded into her. His cock, already hard and heavy, twitched at the visual.
As he inched a little closer to her, his gaze dropped to the chafe marks on her wrist. The sight made his teeth grind all over again. He took her hand and brushed his thumb over her palm. “If you’d been wearing my mark, the incantor wouldn’t have been so quick to take the job.”
Sipping her drink, she gave him a look that questioned his sanity. “You wouldn’t be able to mark me unless your demon considered me under its protection, which it doesn’t. It might have grown to ‘tolerate’ me, but it’s not going to give a flying fuck what happens to me.”
“You’re wrong about that.”