?m asking what’s up with your neck.” Judging by the drawn expression on his face, he knew more than he was letting on, but I for one had no idea what he was talking about.
My hand flew to my throat, and instead of smooth skin I felt the raised edge of a scab, and the skin was tender. Bruised. But that was impossible. Something as small as a little love bite should have easily healed while I was at rest for the day.
“I…” Finding the closest stool, I sat down. “Does it look bad?”
“Looks like one hell of a hickey.” He took a seat across from me. “Des is gonna love it.”
Frowning, I set my skirt and jacket on the island and touched the wound again. It was sensitive under my featherlight fingers, which meant it probably looked brutal, especially if it was still around after so many hours.
“That’s the weirdest thing.” My hands fell into my lap.
“Not that weird,” Dominick mumbled.
Before he had a chance to explain what he meant, the kitchen door opened and Lucas came in. He bent down and kissed me with enough flourish he had to brace himself on the counter of the island, and Dominick cleared his throat to remind us he was still there. I hadn’t forgotten, but Lucas was otherwise distracted.
It wasn’t until he pulled back that I realized I hadn’t tasted anything.
I licked my lips, ran my tongue over the back of my teeth, sucked the interior of my cheeks, but nothing. He’d had a vague espresso flavor in his mouth when he kissed me, but there was zero taste of cinnamon. My heart started to pound, and my eyes flicked to Dominick, but now he wouldn’t look at me.
“Lucas, I can’t—”
“That dress looks incredible on you.” He pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, and under the weight of his gaze, I felt a familiar warmth fan through me, the warmth I associated with our soul-bond. The anxiety building in me tapered off. Okay, so I wasn’t tasting him, but the bond was clearly still working. Maybe the taste was only a temporary thing, or maybe it wasn’t so obvious right now because I’d spent the night with him.
I tried to remember if the lime flavor of my bond with Desmond was always apparent when I woke up with him. I thought so, but maybe I only assumed it was. But in spite of the warmth of my bond with Lucas, a queasy feeling churned in my gut.
“Thank you,” I replied to his compliment. “It’s beautiful.”
“I knew you’d like it.”
“I do.” I hopped off the stool and saw my purse beside the kitchen door. Scooping it up, I stared at Dominick until he finally looked back. “Dominick was about to take me home.”
Oblivious to my unease, Lucas took a sip of his water and nodded, a broad smile on his face when he turned to me. “I’ll give you a call later tonight.”
“Okay.” I tugged Dominick off the stool and pulled him out the kitchen door.
The whole way back to my apartment Dominick played dumb. Anything I asked he would reply, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” By the time he turned onto my block, I was ready to strangle him or cry with frustration.
The moment we pulled up to my apartment, with Desmond’s Dodge Charger parked in front of my BMW Z4—another pricey gift from Lucas—it no longer mattered what Dominick was or wasn’t telling me. I just needed to know if I could still taste Desmond.
I didn’t bother to say goodbye to Dominick, or to close any doors when I burst into the apartment. I dropped my bag on the ground and called out. My voice sounded strained and fearful, nothing like it usually did.
Desmond poked his wet head out of the bathroom and came out, wrapping a towel around his waist. It wasn’t the view of his toned abs or his damp, glistening olive skin that made my heart leap. The tart, bright flavor of lime exploding in my mouth the moment I was close to him was what made me throw myself into his arms and hug him, never wanting to let him go.
“Hey, hi.” He rubbed my back in comforting circles and held me close. “Good to see you too. It’s only been a night, you know.” Desmond ducked his head, giving me a smile meant to comfort, but it faltered when he saw my face. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I was worried. When I woke up I couldn’t taste Lucas anymore, and I thought something in the bond was broken, but he was acting like everything was hunky-dory and I—”
“Wait, wait, wait.” He released me and stepped back, holding his towel up with one hand. “What did you say?”
“I was afraid something was broken?” I asked.
“No, about Lucas.”
“Oh. I couldn’t taste him when I woke up tonight.”
Desmond’s focus darted to my neck, and his cheeks flushed. Feeling guilty but not knowing why, I covered the hickey with my hand and looked away. Desmond had known I was on a date with Lucas last night, and he knew the bond was the same for me and the wolf king as it was for me and him. He couldn’t be oblivious to the fact Lucas and I sometimes got a little physical. I did feel bad it was so in his face though.
Why hadn’t the stupid thing healed?