Page 61 of Crush

A creaking sound makes me pause in the middle of the hall.

The painting on my right moves.

I narrow my eyes, watching one side of the gilded frame swing forward.

A flesh leg steps out first, and the thigh is encased in tight, shining red latex. Muscles in her calf undulate as she finds purchase on that deadly heel, then shifts from behind the painting, her white-blond hair catching the overhead lights the way I assume most angels do when they’re touched by the devil.

Her breasts are hiked up, perfect mounds asking to be bitten, her porcelain throat bare. That dip of her collarbone begs for my tongue. Her entire body screams sex, fetish, my kink.

“Ember.” The name leaves my lips on a tight, coarse growl.

She glances up. Those black eyes of hers meet mine. She notches up her chin.

Then turns and holds out her hand to another person who steps out from behind the painting.

I’m able to catch sight of her winding her fingers with Zeke’s before my vision turns into ashes of rage.

26

Ember

Obviously, I was aware I’d be facing Thorne in his home. I’d planned for it and was even ready to instigate it.

But as I stepped into the hallway with Zeke’s assistance, I didn’t think it’d be … soon.

“What the fuck?”

Thorne hisses it, his eyes bottomless craters in his skull.

“Hey, mate!” Zeke grins at his enemy. His arm sneaks across my lower back, tucking me into his side.

Thorne’s gaze darts from Zeke’s hand on my waist, to Zeke, to me.

The back of my neck prickles with dread.

“I’m part of Winthorpe,” I say, forcing myself to melt against Zeke’s side. Thorne’s upper lip twitches at the movement. If his gaze contained actual lasers, my skin would be melting off right about now. “And part of your Society. Don’t I get an automatic invite?”

Thorne’s attention snaps to Zeke, who shrugs. “I told her about your invitation into the Nobles and my ultimate rejection, so we’re all aware of your secret clubhouse rules, Prickles. No need to get defensive.”

Thorne’s dominant hand curls into a fist at his side.

Heedless of the warning, Zeke croons, “And who might you be this All Hallows’ Eve? Ted Bundy before his trip to the courthouse?”

I wrap my arm around Zeke’s back and give a warning squeeze. Neither of us anticipated this meeting so soon. I don’t want Thorne’s breaking point to come in two seconds.

Thorne grits out, “Worse.”

His attention won’t leave my face.

“Yo, Lucifer! You’re missing the—oh, fuck me.” Jaxon skids to a halt as he rounds into the hallway.

Zeke chuckles after he notices Jaxon. He says to Thorne, “How quaint. You’re the devil. It looks like I have a fallen angel on my shoulder, too.” Zeke dips his head, brushing a kiss on my temple.

I close my eyes, trembling not at the touch of Zeke’s lips but at the consequences of Zeke’s maneuver.

Thorne peels back his lips, commanding, “Get the hell off her.”

Zeke pulls me in tighter. “Or what?”