Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Damien
Killien left the apartment with Owen and I’m fucking pissed.
He’s become very touchy-feely with me over the past week—which I obviously love.
I’ve slept on his bed more than once, and I can tell that he buzzes with desire when we’re close.
Just like when we were in the car earlier, and he stared at my lips like he wanted to eat me alive.
But he did nothing.
I can’t handle it, seriously. It’s like a very long edging session we’re having. I might as well self-combust at any second if he keeps playing this damn game.
My blood is boiling with rage and desire combined in a deadly cocktail, and I need to take it out on someone. Luckily, Jacob is here to take one for the team. He’s gonna get wrecked. He just doesn’t know it yet.
Jacob’s long fingers run down my arm and get between mine to hold my hand. “You’re frowning again,” he whispers in my ear.
We stand in the almost empty parking lot, watching Abby’s car disappear in the distance. The night is quiet. All starry skies and crickets singing in the distance. A soft winter breeze ruffles my hair and tickles my waist as it gets underneath my oversized tank top.
“Is there something wrong?” Jacob’s boots drag the gravel underneath his feet as he turns to face me.
Well, obviously! Duh—
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. “There’s something I want to do.” I can’t stop myself from grinning as Jacob raises his eyebrows at me. “Let’s fight.”
He chuckles, looking way more amused than he should. “Fight? You wanna fight me? Honey, you’re strong, but that’s not enough to take me down . . .”
My eyes almost light up with excitement as I think about my next words. “If you’re so sure you’ll win, let’s make a bet. Shall we?”
“Okay. What’s the prize?” Jacob’s smile widens. He’s so beautiful, so confident. I can’t wait to watch him crumble.
I push my curls back with my free hand, looking up right into his eyes. He doesn’t feel threatened, which makes me huff out a laugh. “Whoever wins the fight gets to top tonight.”
For a minute, he seems startled. All wide-eyed and parted lips.
Is he going to refuse? I don’t even know if he’d be willing to bottom, honestly.
It never came up in our conversations, or during our many violent encounters during the past week.
However, he just starts laughing softly, dark eyes fixed on mine, filled with amusement.
“Sure, honey.” Jacob shrugs, pointing towards the metal stairs behind us.
I take the lead, climbing them before him.
The staircase is loud underneath our feet as he follows me closely, and I can hear him chuckle.
My heart skips a beat at the excitement of what I’m going to do to him.
I’ll tear him apart, but I’ll make it up to him.
A grin appears on my lips as soon as he closes and locks the apartment door. My body is aching for this.
“Clothes off,” I say, making Jacob look over his shoulder and raise an eyebrow at me. “We’re fighting skin to skin.”
I take off my tank top, quickly unbuckle my belt, and kick off my sneakers.
While I take off my jeans, I grab my folding knife from its pocket and hide it in my fist. When I’m done, I’m only wearing my black briefs, and Jacob hasn’t moved an inch.
His elegant silhouette dressed in all black is like a shadow against the white of the door.
“Well? Come on,” I urge him, my grin widening as I squeeze the knife in my hand.
I’m not cheating, by the way. We never agreed to not use weapons.
Jacob snaps out of his little state of shock and walks past the tan leather sectional to stand before me, slowly unbuttoning his black shirt.
I stare at him hungrily while he strips; he’s so freaking handsome.
I can’t wait to cut through his many tattoos, to draw blood from his perfect body.
He’s never going to forget this night. Me either, probably.
“Choose a safe word,” he says, taking off his boots and black trousers. I laugh out loud at his innocence, making him stop and glare at me with exasperation. “I mean it, Damien.”
“I don’t need a safe word.” I take a few steps closer, teasing him. I’m really enjoying how over-confident he is. “But if you want one for yourself, I’ll let you have it.”
“No, honey.” He drops his boots on the tiled floor and looks down at me. He’s so tall and imposing, with that perfect body and flawless olive skin covered in ink. I wanna eat him. “If we’re going to do this, we need safe words. I need to know when to stop if you change your mind.”
“You’re not gonna kill me, Jacob. I don’t want a fucking safe word, I want you to come at me with all your might.”
There’s a whole lot of doubt in his eyes.
He probably doesn’t understand me, and I can’t blame him.
I’m addicted to blood and violence. There has always been a desire for it in the depths of my mind.
Now that I’m a vampire, my twisted desires have mingled and merged with my hunger.
My demons are too excited to fight one of my own kind.
“I’m not fighting if you don’t pick a safe word, Damien. I’m serious,” he insists, and I can’t help but roll my eyes.
What a party pooper, seriously.
I sigh. “Fine, my safe word is ‘angel.’” Jacob raises an eyebrow, as if he wasn’t expecting it. “What? It’s something I wouldn’t normally say. Now you pick one.”
Fucking stupid safe words. They’re pointless. You’re either all in, or you’re not. Those are my rules.
“Alright, mine is ‘underworld,’” he says casually, before turning and pushing the sectional and coffee table closer to the TV that hangs in front of them.
There’s a short silence while I stare at him, tilting my head to the side. “Like that old vampire movie with the hot chick?” I laugh, because it’s freaking ridiculous. He totally caught me off guard.
Jacob stops in his tracks, his fingers digging into the leather of the closest armchair, the one he was moving towards the door. “No, that’s not why . . .” He shakes his head and continues with his task of clearing the center of the room for us.
Well, that certainly sparks my curiosity. But I don’t let myself get distracted. Now’s not the time to get wrapped in conversation.
It’s showtime, darling.
“Alright, Jacob,” I say, my entire body crackling with a kind of electricity that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Shall we start?”
“Just remember your safe word—angel.” Jacob’s dark eyes assess me. He’s so hot when he concentrates. And he’s so certain that he’ll win.
I circle him slowly, watching as he mirrors my movements.
There’s no erasing the grin on my face when I lunge forward, pretending to try to punch him.
He smiles playfully, dodging my fist and stepping away.
I try again, merely assessing his speed.
He successfully avoids me, but he’s slow—like most people his size.
I’ve always had an advantage in fights; I know how to use my size and speed to my benefit.
Jacob jumps a few steps back, putting distance between us, and we start to circle each other again.
I take a minute to enjoy the sight of his muscles flexing, his strong thighs decorated with a green dragon on his right leg and an orange tiger on the left.
This gives him a perfect opportunity to attack, which he takes, but I dodge his fist easily.
I can’t stop grinning, while he’s nothing but serious. His height doesn’t scare me, neither does the fact that he’s much stronger than me. I’m not intimidated by those dark, evil eyes; I’m turned on by them.
Jacob steps forward and tackles me. I see it coming, but I let him do it.
We land on the cold floor, almost crashing against the back of the sectional, where he quickly pins me down.
The triumphant smile on his lips is so freaking hot that I almost don’t want to erase it.
What I didn’t predict, though, is how heavy he feels on top of me.
I’m pretty sure it didn’t feel like this in other circumstances.
He’s really trying to win, it seems. Cute.
One of his hands wraps around my neck, choking me just in the way I like so much.
I find myself biting my lower lip without meaning to, aroused by the little violent game we’re playing.
We’re both panting and starting to get hard, the heat of our bodies increasing with each passing second.
This is no different than what we’ve been doing in bed, and I can tell Jacob already thinks he’s won.
But I’m not submitting. Not tonight.
I shift the folding knife in my hand and open it, slashing the side of his torso quickly. Jacob flinches and lets go of my neck to reach for his waist, touching the superficial cut. The entire room smells of his sweet scent now, although he’s barely bleeding. I didn’t cut deep, of course.
While he’s stuck in confusion, I take the chance to push him off me and roll away. I quickly jump to my feet while he struggles to sit up, digging his fingers into the sectional’s headrest as he leans on it.
“What?!” He looks at me with the most adorable confused expression. At least until his gaze travels to my right hand, landing on the black folding knife and it’s glistening blade stained with his blood. Then he goes rabid. “What the fuck, Damien?!”
Oh, he didn’t like that. Good.
I play with my beloved weapon between my fingers, then throw it in the air and catch it again. “I never fight without my knife.”
“That’s cheating,” Jacob says between clenched teeth. He’s seriously pissed off.
“No, it’s not.” I bat my eyelashes at him. “You’re older, much bigger, stronger, and can turn your fingernails into claws. I just have a tiny knife.”
Jacob’s mouth twitches in anger as he pushes himself to straighten his back. He looks down at his bloody hand, then at the cut that is quickly healing itself with the power of immortal blood. When his gaze meets mine again, the glow in his irises is pure rage.