A hand landed on Stacey's shoulder. Stacey turned his head very slowly to look behind him. His entire soul felt like it had just been vacuumed out of him.
I didn't even hear him coming! What is he, a ghost?
The hand on his shoulder was light, but still enough to steal his breath. Hunter's warmth curled down his neck, into the collar of his shirt. And from under the lapel of Hunter's blazer, Naestra's pale head peeked out.
Her tongue flicked.
"Careful," Hunter purred. "She remembers everything from yesterday."
Stacey's heart tried to escape his chest.
Hunter's hand stayed on his hip. Firm. Claiming.
Naestra slithered down Hunter's arm and onto Stacey's. The bit of skin that touched his wrist was cool and silken, and after a moment, she looped herself lightly across Stacey's shoulders. Almost as if she were saying hello.
A light smirk ghosted across Hunter's facial features, warm, deadly, desirable.
