The Unlikeable Demon Hunter (Nava Katz #1)(76)

He greeted me clad in a towel, freshly showered. He shook his wet hair, drops of water trailing down his perfect abs. This wasn't the first time a guy had greeted me this way but it was the first time I felt like I was watching a performance. Disconnected and watching the technical steps involved in "sexy dude" trope play out.

His towel is going to slip now.

Sure enough, there it went, an inch further down his hips. Samson caught it at the last second with an unrepentant grin. But there was no heat in his eyes, only cold appraisal, like a deadly snake.

The hair on the back of my neck rose. Did he know what I was? I raised my eyebrows, taking in the line where the towel met skin. Demon or psycho, he didn't fool me. I didn't chalk it up to some higher intelligence on my part or even a Rasha talent for seeing through demon bullshit. We didn't have that. But I'd had Rohan. I knew what hot and raw and need looked like.

Samson didn't want me. This was calculated.

"You don't play fair," I pouted, pretending to buy it.

"What did you think of the chase?" he asked.

"You were phenomenal." Truth.

"Yeah, I was." He looked at me with such a cocky grin that I was almost tempted to shoot him down. "I'm going to get dressed," he said. "Make yourself comfortable."

By the time I'd taken off my jacket, gloves, and sweater, he'd already returned. He'd only thrown on a pair of jeans, so not a huge wardrobe change. I glanced down at his feet. Bare. Big surprise.

"You look different," he commented.

"It's the fifty-seven percent more clothing. I get cold easily and didn't want to freeze." I sat down, the leather butter soft.

Samson took a seat next to me, placing his hand on my arm. I looked pointedly between his fingers and his eyes. "You know how many women would kill to be in your position? Show a little gratitude." He unbuckled his belt. 

That was the moment I decided that the gogota had been some random attack. King didn't know I was Rasha. This was about one thing and one thing only. Now, what would it take for Samson to think he'd achieved full payback for Evelyn? A revenge fuck? My disappearance? Neither was going to happen.

"I'm not interested in a quick screw." I sent a withering glance at his pants, as he popped the top button of his jeans. "You're not either, so let's skip the bullshit."

Samson sat back, his gaze shrewd. "Negotiations, huh?" I hadn't meant my words that way but if it got him to back off, I'd take it. "What's to stop me from a hostile takeover?"

I smiled sweetly. "I'll rip your balls off."

He smirked but not quickly enough to hide his surprise.

I pressed on in a husky voice. "That said, I'm open to the possibility of a merger."

"What's in it for me?"

I leaned in close, resting my hand on his upper thigh. "You have that blond, good-looking charm going for you, but Rohan is something else altogether. Bad. Dangerous." His nostrils flared. "You wouldn't have offered him a record deal if you weren't exactly aware of how bright he burns."

"I stand to make a lot of money off him," he replied. "I don't need to stoop to his left-overs."

I blinked away the tears that instantly flooded my eyes fast enough that I'm pretty sure he didn't see them. "You think I'm a left-over? Give Rohan six months. Babe, you'll be a vague memory. Everyone knows rock stars trump actors. Especially actors out of the spotlight."

The air around us charged with an undercurrent of violence. I braced myself for some show of demonic power. When was the last time anyone had openly mocked him? The danger of claiming to be the center of the universe was being a victim of your own PR.

Samson stood up, grabbing himself a water from the bar fridge. "Mitra doesn't give a damn about you."

"Don't believe everything that you see. The other morning? He wanted you to see me leaving his bed. And at the cigar bar, he allowed you to be with me and everyone saw it except you. He likes his power games." I leaned back against the leather, my arms splayed along the top. "People forget the pecking order. They need reminding."

I thought I was being so clever. A guy who'd believed he'd been cuckolded was capable of some pretty ugly behavior. A potential demon who got off on misery on a good day? Let's just say, I hadn't thought this through.

"We can't have that."

I barely processed the menace in Samson's voice before a bolt of despair ripped through me. It left me cold and bereft, in ravenous pain, desperate to please him.

"I'm sorry." I jumped to my feet, my voice reedy and pleading. I couldn't seem to get enough air into my lungs and my muscles felt locked into place.

"Better." He prowled toward me. "You may be right about Mitra. He was drunk that night and from what I saw the other times? Yeah, I think you have some value to him. Some value to me."