Take Me Once, I'll Bleed You Twice novel Chapter 9

Chapter 9

“You’ve got a sharp tongue, dont you, he almost parred. Could werewolves purr? She was sure they couldn’t, especially not in their human form, but there was some kind of rumbling going on. And why was he enjoying her sass? That wasn’t how this conversation was suppose to go.

“Like a knife. Why am I here?” Beatrice was focused on getting her question answered and she’d be damned if she let him sidetrack the conversation.

Hendricks pushed himself off the desk to lean over her, his large hands resting on the armrests she hadn’t been using. Trying not to show a visible reaction to his sudden closeness, she leaned as far back in her chair as she could manage. The more distance she was able to put between the two of them, the better.

In response, he simply leaned that much closer, stopping only once their noses were barely an inch apart. Closing his impossibly blue eyes, he took a deep breath and held it for a handful of seconds before exhaling. “You smell… so good, Fine Beatrice.”

There was no way to stop the grimace from showing on her face. How did he not smell the dungeon’s reek on her? She couldn’t get it out of her own nose

and, after surreptitiously sniffing her shoulder – which made him laugh, so maybe it wasn’t as surreptitiously as she’d hoped told Beatrice she still

smelled musty, with an undertone of rot. “I smell like I live under a rock.”

“Mmm, not quite,” he murmured, one hand releasing the arm of her chair so he could reach up and brush a strand of hair away from her face. “You smell… like a rainstorm. A mix of everything in nature all bathed together.”

A poet, he was not. Oh darn, that meant they just weren’t compatible. “Right… So, why am I here?” That was the fourth time she’d asked the same question, and she was starting to wonder if he would ever answer it.

the asshole. Finding another stray strand of her hair, Hendricks “What do you know of my kind?,” he asked, ignoring her question in favour of his own – twirled it around his finger before giving it a deep sniff. The way he seemed to bask in her stench made Beatrice uncomfortable.

“Uh…” Think, she ordered herself. Think. She had to pretend Riaghaire hadn’t told her anything. That meant… she could be as rude as she wanted.

This thought cheered her up but Hendricks was still sniffing her hair, ruining the moment. If only she could crawl over the back of the chair to escape; but he was too close and she wasn’t agile enough to pull it off without looking like a flailing idiot.

“Well…?” His voice had turned sultry as he found yet another strand of hair he wanted to touch.

It was hard to form a coherent thought with him intruding into her personal space. Beatrice even caught a whiff of his own smell, which was a mix between a pine and fir tree – or so she guessed. She didn’t know much about trees, but his smeli reminded her of the Christmas trees growing up. They’d always gone with a pine or fir tree, depending on the year. Oh, god, he reminded her of Christmas? Way to ruin the holidays, asshole.

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“You… you’re werewolves,” she squeaked, cringing at her voice before clearing her throat and trying again. “But I’m not, so why am I here?” Yes, she’d managed to stay on track and sneak her question back into the conversation. Point to Beatrice.

Hendricks let out a small sigh before, finally, leaning back. Relief flooded Beatrice as her personal space was no longer compromised. “You’re a stubborn

one.”

“Says my kidnapper.”

It was his turn to grimace, which surprised her. Why would that bother him, when she was certain this entire thing was his fault. “Sorry about that, but you wouldn’t give me the time of day, and I couldn’t stick around.”

Beatrice stared at him, knowing the expression on her face was that of someone who was not impressed by what he’d just said. “So you decided kidnapping me was the answer? What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

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3:15 pm

Chapter 9

MA

Lareful, he warned her, those blue eyes of his flashing gold for a split second. It’d happened so fast she wasn’t sure if she’d just imagined it. “I am Alpha here, and you would do well not to anger me.”

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