Page 68 of Master of Chaos
He stood there, letting his eyes adjust. I was grateful for the darkness. The less he saw of my face, the better.
He moved toward me like a shadow and sat on the far end of the couch.
“Holly loves having your sister here,” he said, like an offering.
“I’m so glad for them both,” I said. “It was the best possible thing that could have happened for Reggie. Besides a cure for her mystery illness, of course. Holly is a blessing for her, too, after being so lonely for so long in that hellish place.”
“Like you were for me,” he said. “In Halliwell’s dungeon.”
Anger kindled inside me. “No way, Shane,” I said, my voice vibrating with emotion. “Don’t do that. Don’t you dare. No way can you come in here and whisper sweet nothings at me after last night.”
“I’m sorry about last night,” he said. “I can’t tell you how much.”
“Sorry’s not good enough.” I kept my voice clipped. “Go back to your own room. Get some sleep. We’ll keep up the cordial strangers routine until we can get out of each other’s faces.”
“I love having you in my face. I’ve never seen anything so fucking beautiful.”
I pressed my hands over my shaking face. Goddamn him all to hell.
“Shane,” I said, through my teeth. “You’re killing me. I seem to remember you throwing me out of your bed. I seem to recall words like ‘get the fuck out of here.’ It didn’t feel good, and I’m not doing that to myself again. So get your ass up off that couch, and get out. Good night.”
“Last night was amazing. And then I had… a bad moment.”
“Bad moment?” I repeated slowly. “Really. Which made you feel justified in dismissing me, like some insignificant fuckbunny you were finished with?”
“It wasn’t like that,” he said quietly. “I don’t know how to explain it. But if you were with someone you cared about, like Reggie, and the earth suddenly opened up and there was a pool of boiling lava at your feet, you’d try to get Reggie away from it as fast as you could, right? It felt… kind of like that.”
I tried to make out his features in the dark. “Ah. So you were protecting me? By being rude and horrible? Please, Shane. Don’t do me any more goddamn favors. If you want to fuck with my head, you’re going to have to up your game. I am no dummy.”
“I know you’re not. You’re brilliant. And I love that about you. It turns me on.”
I got up from the couch. “I can’t deal with this,” I said. “It’s all compliments and kisses, but who knows when the earth will open up? Is it just random for you, when the lava starts pumping? Can you see it coming? Do you want me to lower my guard just so that you can fuck me again? Not in this lifetime, buddy.”
He reached for my hand, but I swayed back, evading him. “Red,” he said softly. “Please. You didn’t deserve that. It was awful. I got slammed, and I couldn’t handle the feelings. I couldn’t stand falling to pieces in front of you.”
My eyes were leaking again, to my dismay. Goddamn that man. “News flash, Shane. I can’t handle it, either. Get lost, so I can fall to pieces in peace.”
“No.” He leaned over and grabbed both my hands. He bent over to kiss them.
I didn’t know what kind of sneaky sex god sorcery he was doing on me, but the soft warmth of his lips on my knuckles made everything go soft and hot and shivery inside me. Some dark, potent magic that effortlessly melted down my anger, my flinty resolve, my treacherous heart, and turned it all into desperate longing. Like there was a direct line from his soft, hot, pleading kisses against my knuckles, right to my heart.
He slid off the couch and kneeled in front of me, redoubling those hand kisses. The gesture was so seductive. It promised infinite patience. It implied that he’d be happy to just stay there all night, kissing the joints of my fingers. Slowly, softly, every point of contact deliberate, thorough, worshipful.
Until I was betrayed by that hot ache in my heart. Practically screaming for it.
I was infatuated. It was so stupid. Such a bad time. But I just stood there, my face wet, my mouth shaking, letting him worship my hands. Helpless to stop him.
And he felt me softening, the slick, sneaky bastard. He maneuvered me expertly so I was over the couch again, and tumbled me backwards, then kneeled in front of me, parting my legs. Pushing the nightdress up over my knees.
I was naked beneath it. He let out low rumble of delighted approval as his hands stroked up my thighs, pressing them wider, petting my mound, tracing my slick pussy lips with teasing fingertips. Opening me.
“Can I taste you?” he said.
“Oh.” I laughed shakily under my breath. “So now the nice manners come out, huh? Beg me, dude.”
He vibrated with silent laughter. “I don’t mind begging,” he said. “I beg for forgiveness. I beg for another chance. I beg for the privilege of making you come. I’m already on my knees.” He cupped my ass, tugging it to the edge of the couch cushions. “Let me lick you until you scream,” he murmured. “Pretty please.”
“No screaming,” I said primly. “My innocent little sister is right down the hall. Sleeping right next to your innocent little daughter.”