Free Quiver: Watched by Shadows (Quivering Shadows Book 2) by Livia Rook Page B

invited again… Not that I would’ve gone. The Boat was just as tacky as they were; a nightclub moored on the river that cut through the centre of the city, installed with a bloody revolving dance-floor of all things. It attracted hordes of students and gangs of stag and hen parties looking for the cheapest (watered-down) drinks over the weekend. Not somewhere you’d go for a quiet, sophisticated drink. But the girls loved it, what with the free entry Terry was able to get them… He did after all own the floating eye-sore.
    “So, what do I need to do to get back into your good graces?” I asked.
    “Straight to business eh? I haven’t even sipped my pint yet,” he chuckled.
    “Sorry, I’m worried, and you’ve been so good to me. I just don’t want you to think that I’m an ungrateful cow,” I said.
    “No danger of that. Look, how about we forget about it? Fresh new start on Monday?”
    “I’d like that,” I replied, casually placing a hand onto his thigh, feeling the toned muscle beneath; had he been working out?
    Max was the type you’d be proud to take home to meet the parents (if I had any), settle down with, the whole shebang. He’d do anything for you, as he’d proven when he managed to pull some strings and get me the job at the office.
    We sat and chatted, reminiscing about good old times we’d had at university together, getting comfortable with each other again outside of the confines of work. I was enjoying the attention, and my skin craved to be touched.
    A devilish thought embedded itself in my mind: Sitting next to me I had a potentially willing participant, who, if I was reading him right, was giving me all the right signals.
    After a couple more vinegar-like house wines I was feeling its effects. Emboldened, I drained my drink and almost broke the stem of the wine glass as my unsteady hand crashed it back onto the table’s surface.
    “Want another one?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
    “No. But I want something else,” I replied. We’d been skirting around the obvious for over an hour now. I was going to have to take the initiative.
    “Wanna have some fun?” I asked. I took his hand and pushed passed a group of lads, a billowing cloud of aftershave surrounded them. They gave us knowing glances but were more interested in our vacant seats as I led Max out of the pub.
    “Where are we going?” he asked, tugging me to a standstill.
    I looked around the street, searching for the perfect place; the shops had their metal shutters down. A greasy take-away storefront had its sign turned on, illuminating the cement pavements in front. Muggy skies above threatened scantily-clad females wearing the latest fashion trends – knock-offs of course – with a sudden downpour, typical of a British autumn night.
    “This way,” I said, spotting a quiet alleyway. I marched on, towing him behind me, determined to get my fix. He seemed amused by this and gave no resistance.
    The faint orange glow of a street light tried hard to penetrate the black gloom of the alley. Instead the shadows ate at the light that was encroaching upon the space.
    We passed discarded, soggy cardboard boxes, and I was careful to tip toe around broken bottles, most likely the remnants of last weekend’s drinking festivities. It wasn’t a romantic spot, that was sure, but no one would be able to see us here.
    I stood facing Max, glancing at his lips. I pressed my hands against his firm chest and pushed him against the wall. His lips were soft and inviting, and I could smell the malty beer upon his breath.
    “We shouldn’t do this, Kate. I’m practically your boss,” he said with a sigh as I ran my hands up towards the back of his neck and through his hair.
    I leaned forward before he could protest, angling my head and placed a keen kiss on his mouth. His lips parted ever so slightly, letting his warm breath escape. I wanted more, but it was over too quick; he pulled back.
    “What are you doing?” His eyes were