This new restaurant was vastly different, since she had to rebuild twice. She figured that she'd freshen it up, do something new, and combine a small private cooking school with personal chef assistance available, which was something Kyo wanted to always do. She knew already that her unique fusion restaurant would generate something good, and nothing but positivity was going to come from it all.
As she moved around the city and learned her way around, taking the “L,” hopping on buses, learning her new neighborhood, she felt like she was being watched and followed. The majority of the time Kyo was always with her, but it didn't stop that nagging feeling that someone was protecting her. It also didn't stop her constant dreams.
Last night she had awaken with the feeling that the man in her dreamsâshe'd named him Watcherâwas surveying and protecting her. He was keeping her from the demons who wanted to hurt her as he found his way into her apartment and held her while she cried. Her face was damp with tears as she woke up and looked around, swearing she smelled faint cologne linger in the air.
She hadn't the foggiest idea why she was crying or why her skin seemed to flush warm with satisfaction, but it just felt like something she needed to do in her dreams. She needed to cry to release the tension, but when the Watcher was in her dreams, she seemed to never really remember them quite well, especially the sensual dreams.
She placed a hand on the back of her neck, massaging herself, then reached for her tea.
“You seem to be low on tea. Let me refill that for you.”
The deep, soothing voice grabbed Sanna's attention and had her head snapping up. She quirked an eyebrow as she stared into amber golden eyes, framed by smooth, warm, milk chocolate skin with a light copper tone to it. His smile halted her breath as she studied his braided back locks. Her eyes roamed over his sensually taut running-back-muscled body nestled in a black denim jumpsuit with paint splotched all over. His white A-line tank shirt peeked out from underneath, while his smile seemed to make her body over heat with exotic need while he filled her cup up with more tea.
“Sugar. Cream. Vanilla. Cinnamon and nutmeg. Am I right?”
Sanna blinked as she nodded, confusion hitting her hard, while directing her stare to his brown work boots. She tried to work her mouth to talk, but all she could do was glance up and stare like a mute. He was delicious. She swore she had met him before. Déjà vu hit her hard. It was her dreams all over again, back in STL with the fine-ass painter and mural, but this was clear, solid reality. If she was bold enough, she could reach out and touch his hard, chiseled body and know this was real.
Once again it felt like she knew him. As if she knew him all her life and somehow was meant to be with him. He felt like her dream, the man in her dream. His voice with that silky deep octave had the hair on her body rising as the blood rushed between her thighs. She had heard him before. She was positive about it. And not just at the hospital.
Her eyes locked in on his plush lips, and she felt like she was Loretta Devine in
Waiting to Exhale
. The man had lips meant for kissing, and while he spoke to her, she swore he was playing with her mentally the moment he licked his lips. That simple act had her ready to rip his and her clothes off as she sampled his plush mouth. She wanted to see if that goatee could cause a nice friction against her moist bud. She blushed at her crassness.
Where in the world did that thought come from?
She had to get it together fast.
Exhaling and demanding her body to calm down, sudden frustration made her place a hand to her temple as she reached for her medicine.
“You don't need that. Here, drink some tea. It'll calm the headache, trust me,” the man said as he handed her the cup.
His large hand surrounded her own smaller hands, and she jumped. He felt good, and why she knew that by just a brush of his fingers, she had no idea. Yet this man seemed to melt away the pain she was currently feeling from the budding migraine and seizure ready to tear her mind apart.
While he studied her calmly, his eyes sensually held her attention. “I'm glad to meet you finally and not in a hospital. I'm Khamun.”
Met her? This gorgeous specimen of Mount Fine-as-wine had met her in the hospital? Oh, no, sir and no, ma'am. Who the hell was mister sexy, and how had he seen her in her worst? She was embarrassed beyond words.
Using her cup as a means of distraction, Sanna slowly sipped her tea and stared at its caramel creamy-colored surface. “That is really, really good. I mean, just right. Mine doesn't come out this good. What did you do?”
Khamun chuckled and grinned, his own eyes taking in Sanna's flush at meeting him while she enjoyed his tea. He couldn't blame her. It was like his world had stopped the moment he landed in her zone. He had been watching her, hidden for hours, as she worked throughout the restaurant.
Dealing with all that crap at the Council meeting had stressed him out, and he knew he had to check on his Oracle-Vessel. When he decided it was time to finally meet the woman he had desired for years in the flesh without any distractions. He meant it and nothing was going to stop him from doing his job and meeting her at the same time.
Smoothing a hand down his work suit, he inwardly laughed while trying to slyly adjust himself from the heat building within. He had to clamp down his need to walk around her in circles, slowly stalking her, seeing how close he could get to seducing her. She had no clue that her mind was open like a book to him, and every time he tried to close it out of respect, it seemed to flip back open.
She wanted to taste his mouth. He wanted her to taste it. She wanted see what his skin felt like, running over his abs. He wanted her to do so, and that had his manhood so hard, he knew if he stood any closer to her, she would feel it jumping just for her attention.
Using the art of discussion to distract himself, he dropped into a meditation breathing ritual, something he always practiced when he was near her. He calmly spoke, his voice rough with the edges of lust. “I didn't do anything. Just added what you like.”
Slightly turning in her seat, she had to keep herself from glancing at the bulge in his work suit. The little glimpse had her almost falling out of her chair. The man was dangerous, and that swell seemed to keep growing. She wanted to cry at the assumptions of what his member would feel like within her untouched body, and she shakily exhaled.
“Oh. And how would you know that, Mr. Khamun what?”
Who the hell is this man?
He held out his hand again, bracing himself for that sensual spark with just the touch of her skin. He licked his lips as he took her in, inhaling her sweet, intoxicating scent, and he felt her pulse quicken.
She was dressed is a black pencil skirt with a lilac blouse that gave a hint of her ample crème brulé breasts. He shifted himself again as he realized she had asked him a question.
“Cross. Khamun Cross.” He had to quickly think of something smooth where it didn't tip her off that he'd been watching her since she'd made it on the Society grid and he was assigned to her when he was a teen. Basically, he had to remind himself that right now she was just looking at a mortal man who knew nothing about her and her special DNA.
“Oh. Wasn't hard to figure out, since I've been here for some time inspecting my crew and making sure they hold up to your designs.”
“Oh, really?” Sanna was scrapping her mind, panning back and forth, combing through her memory. How had she missed seeing this delicious man? How had she not seen him? She had been slyly admiring many of the men working on her restaurant, yet she had bypassed a man such as him?
She remembered him from the hospital. When she saw him at the hospital, his very presence had her almost falling out her wheelchair. She knew if in that moment that she had a heart monitor on at that time, that bitch would have blown up. Yet today she had bypassed him in the restaurant? No way. Maybe he was here on the days Kyo was supervising the build? Maybe he . . . well, anyway, somehow he'd evaded her, but right now he was standing comfortably in front of her.
She did recall who he was. This was Calvin's frat brother, and now he was working in her restaurant, employed by her? She couldn't help but smile as she looked him over again.
Her mind was poetically beautiful, even throughout the rambles of fear and confusion. It was something he wanted to paint. Something he was painting in the murals for her restaurant. He couldn't help but read her expression as he softly smiled. He liked her style. She wasn't one to be played a fool for, so he decided to ease her mind.
“I had a couple of my staff with me, touring your property, showing the reins. Then I was busy working on a little something for you, Miss Steele.”
The way he said her last name made her heart do a shimmy. She felt like a piece of art as he spoke to her and watched her. She felt like the finest of silks in Bombay as she inhaled his delicious cologne. Damn! Is this man married? Does he have a team of women? Children? Is he crazy? Is he a loser? Something had to be off about him, because right now, he felt made just for her. She had to get her mind right. No one man should have her ready to strip naked and get her rocks off in front of a staff of workers.
“Oh, and that's how you knew what I liked in my tea, okay.” Softly smiling, she tried to look everywhere but his face, so she focused on his hands. The man had hands designed for holding a woman's waist, paint traces splashed along his long fingers.
She licked her lips as she dared to eye him again. She looked around as he quietly watched her, taking her cup and giving her a new one. “What were youâ”
“A mural. Oh, I'm sorry.”
She watched him shift as if she was causing discomfort, and she raised an eyebrow. She knew this man could not feel awkward around her. That just didn't compute for her. Maybe she was staring a little too hard, but damn, he shouldn't be so fine and standing so close. She knew it had to be something else because the way he looked at her right now had her wishing she could go hide somewhere and spend a little time practicing self-love.
Khamun's chuckle broke her train of thought as if he was reading her mind, and she blushed a thousand shades of red.
Her sudden butterflies had her taking another big sip of her delicious tea. She sat her cup down then stood. “Um, I'm sorry. Did you need me to sign something or look over something?”
“Actually, no. I wanted to go over what we've been working on throughout the day and show you the mural, the little bit I have done.”
Bobbing her head in understanding, she had to run her hands up and down her arms. She almost had asked if he wanted her to run her hands over his body, but of course, that was her aching kitty talking, and she needed Ms. Kitty to cool it right now. But as she watched his rock-solid ass while he walked, she was ready to scream. He was no damn help either! He was so close, smelled so good and how he tilted his head to the side as he spoke to her, assessing her, drinking her in, had her discombobulated.
Anxiety hit her hard as she looked for Kyo. Where in all hell was her partner in crime at? She needed a buffer. Something. Her nipples were so hard right now, they irritated her as they rubbed against her bra. Her breasts felt so tight and heavy, it slightly freaked her out. This wasn't okay.
“Let me get my co-owner, Kyo Satou.”
“Hey! Oooh! Who is
that
?” Kyo appeared out of nowhere, startling her and making her jump as she held in her laughter at Kyo's whisper.
Damn! Sometimes it tripped her out the way her bestie could pop up at any given time, as if she heard her SOS. Chuckling, her godsister was literally circling the man, her multi-toned jade eyes scanning his frame.
Sanna quickly mouthed “Sorry,” and Khamun flashed a lopsided grin.
On a mission to work her magic as a buffer, Kyo shoved a hand out. “Hello, I'm Kyo Satou. Excuse me as I get nosy. It's not often my best friend has a handsome man pour her tea. Very nice of you.”
Khamun chuckled as he assessed Kyo. He made up his mind right there that she was good people and was a great Gargoyle in person, although he had known that already just by watching over the pair previously. He had noticed her approach before Sanna had. Girly was almost stealth-like. If they were in a dark alley somewhere, any demon she stalked would be sorely surprised. Had he been an ordinary human, her movements and approach would not have been detected. The same could be said if he was some ordinary Nephilim, but he wasn't.
So when she popped up, he knew that Kyo heard her Vessel's mental SOS, just as clearly as he had heard it. He wasn't trying to stay in her mind, but he couldn't help it. It was like her mind demanded that he lock with her, especially now as she stood physically in front of him. He knew that, when another Nephilim female found a mate, a mind-lock would alert her of a partner that was suitable.
Khamun had to rock back and forth on his heels and hide his smirk. The lock was strong. This meant that she hadn't gone through her Evolution. Nonetheless, he was amused, horny as hell, and very flattered. Taking Kyo's hand, they both flinched.