Page 172 of Monstrous Urges
My neighbor. The forbidden distraction. The man with the god-like body built for sin who I have no business fantasizing about, but God help me I do.
Because my neighbor isn’t just eye candy.
He’s Ares fucking Drakos, the brand-new king of the entire Drakos family.
I’m vaguely aware of more people getting out of a second and a third SUV that pull up behind the first—the other siblings in the Drakos family, and various other guards. As the seconds tick by, and as Ares’ piercing, dark-eyed gaze continues to stab right into me, the question of why he’s here fades into the background.
And the question of why he’s looking at me like he’s trying to figure out how to swallow me in one bite comes to the fore.
“Inside, all of you,” he growls quietly, his voice filled with unquestioned power. Two of his three brothers—Hades and Kratos—and his sister Calliope glance at me with slightly raised eyebrows as they file past me into O’Bannon’s. Their guards and the Kildare men follow.
Castle clears his throat, taking Eilish by the shoulders as if to escort her inside. I know I should go too. But somehow, I’m stuck. It’s as if my gaze is bound to Ares. Or as if his gaze has me pinned to the very pavement beneath my feet.
We’re on a busy New York sidewalk. And yet, it’s as if we’re suddenly in a bubble of silence. As if the entire rest of the world fades away to a low hum, until I can actually hear my throat tightening when he starts to walk towards me.
I shiver when he stops right in front of me, looming over me. I want to sneer at him. Or spit on his fancy shoes. Or worse. But all I can do is purse my lips and glare at him.
Ares smirks down into my eyes.
“They haven’t told you yet, have they?”
I swallow.
“Told me what?”
One of his dark brows raises in amusement.
“Never mind. You’ll find out soon enough. You know who I am?”
“Of course I know who you are.”
“I mean, apart from being your neighbor.”
I stiffen, desperately trying to swallow back the heat from my face.
“Neighbor?” My voice cracks. Not badly, but enough. “I hadn’t realized.”
The dangerous and lethally-attractive man looming over me smiles ruthlessly, coldly.
“You don’t recognize me?”
“I—I guess not.”
“Would it help if I took my clothes off?”
Dear. GOD.
My face turns as hot as the sun as I pray for a sinkhole to open at my feet.
“I—I?—”
“The meeting is about to start.”
He lets his lips curl slightly, giving me the faintest flash of white teeth. Then, without blinking, he starts to move past where I’m still glued to the sidewalk.
He pauses right next to me, and my breath sucks in as he leans down, so close I can smell the woodsy, elegant scent of his cologne and feel the heat of his breath in my ear.
“Oh, and Neve…” he growls quietly. “Peach isn’t your color.”