Free Should There Be (Vampire Assassin League) by Jackie Ivie

masseuses. Romance writing. Some people tend to think they’re skin industries, selling nothing more than sex.”
    “I fail to see the problem.”
    “My clothing was ripped off, and just look at this room. We destroyed it.”
    He craned his neck up, lifting her from a berth atop him with the motion. She watched as he looked out at the mess. Even the tanning bed they were in was cracked at the top. It widened as he smacked his head back down on it. And then he closed his eyes, dusting his cheeks with dark lashes. Wow. Again. He was such a beautiful man! It was almost worth the loss of her career. He opened his eyes, caught her gaze, and then winked.
    “Looks like I shall need the 4-D Team after all. And I was doing so well.”
    “4-D Team?”
    “I believe Team Yellow was assigned to me tonight. I hope it isn’t Red. I know them too well.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “4-D. Deploy. Destroy. Disinfect. Disappear.”
    “Destroy? Did I hear destroy in there?”
    “They’re very quick. Efficient. User-friendly. If you’ll just let me up, I’ll get my cell phone, and…what?”
    He’d moved; rolling her to one side before crawling from her and then stopped with the question, one leg on the floor, the other curled beneath him. And he had to ask about the look on her face? She’d never seen anything to compare him to. Not even a really sexy ad campaign.
    “You need to uh…dress.”
    “Okay.”
    He found and slid his shorts back on, tying them low enough to give everyone a pretty good view of perfect male. Then he rifled his pockets, pulling a credit-card sized thing out, slid his thumb along it, opening a wafer-thin panel, moving sigh-worthy muscle as he did so. Wow. She was right. Rafaele was incomparable. She wasn’t allowing him to take one ounce off his frame. There wasn’t a bodybuilding title in his size range that was safe. All of which was probably easy to read on her face.
    He cocked an eyebrow at her before turning sideways, giving her another perfect view, this time of his profile while he spoke some gibberish she couldn’t follow unless she’d taken Spanish rather than French in Junior High. Actually, as fast as he spoke, she doubted schoolroom lessons would help, anyway.
    He flicked the phone closed and launched it into a little trash receptacle in one corner. And after making it, he actually put both hands up in the air, miming a version of scoring. Oh brother again . And if he wasn’t the most striking thing on the planet, and arrayed in nothing but gym shorts, she’d have been able to look at him with something beside awe.
    “What now?”
    “You just…threw your phone away.”
    “One use only. Company policy. No. You are right. I’ll retrieve it. It might not be destroyed.”
    “I can’t even afford to replace mine, and you’re chucking them?”
    “Oh yes. Your phone. That reminds me. Here. Put on my shirt.” He tossed it at her.
    “No way. You probably sweat in it.”
    “Me? Sweat? Impossible.”
    He was right. He hadn’t done anything to raise a sweat. Not while wearing clothing, anyway.
    “Where do you think you’re going?”
    Lenna had the shirt held to her while he cracked the door open, craning his neck, and moving back muscle, giving her another perfect view before looking back at her.
    “My locker.”
    “Oh no. You can’t.”
    “I’ll be quick. A flash of time.”
    “Not shirtless.”
    “I am shirtless often. It is no big thing.”
    “I can see that.”
    “You can?”
    “You have a tan line…which is strange, considering you’re terrified of sunlight.”
    “I am terrified of nothing! I am Rafaele de Jesus y Santiago. Scourge of the Barbary Coast! Pillager and Plunderer—oh. You jest.”
    “Barbary Coast?” she asked.
    “Can we speak of this later? We don’t have much time. 4-D teams are known for speed once called.”
    “Are you part of some covert operation or something?”
    “Something like that, si. ”
    “Take your shirt, Rafaele.