Chapter Fifty-Nine
Rey
“Tell me you want to intimidate people without actually saying it out loud,” I say as we get closer to the house. I look out over a ravine full of trees and statues that leads from the mountainside to the edge of the lake where the house sits. “As cool as this place looks, it’s a bit much.”
Rowen snorts in quiet agreement.
The wooden walkway leading to the house is almost as impressive as the house itself.
It stretches over a rocky canyon that boasts a small stream bordered by rocks and trees.
My stomach lurches sickeningly—heights and water?
Thanks, Sigurd—but I hold my breath and cross.
My black cowboy boots click against the walkway as Rowen and I make our way side by side to the front door.
We catch up to Eira, who’s already waiting at the door, annoyance plastered across her pretty face.
“No one’s answering,” she says with an eye roll.
“Weird,” I mutter. We’re running late, so I’m assuming that the party is already in full swing, meaning people are probably an hour in on making poor life choices.
The door’s massive. It’s at least twelve feet tall, maybe fifteen. The amount of video doorbells has me almost wanting to joke about them being afraid of intruders. But then again, where there is fear, there is weakness, right?
I sigh in frustration, but just as I raise my hand for a follow-up knock, the door’s suddenly jerked open. Aric’s jeans look ready to rip off of him in protest against the muscles in his thighs as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, wearing a white T-shirt.
“You’re late.” Several simple chains dangle from his neck, and on his right hand is a ring similar to my father’s. I almost smirk. He looks like an angry God. Damn, he’s so pretty.
His appreciative yet judging stare is almost too much as he looks me over. I went for a white crop top and a long army jacket I could wrap around my waist later. I loosely braided my hair and put on what I like to call my going out makeup so that he’d focus on my eyes.
The only thing missing is my knife, but it’s not really a college party accessory.
“Fashionably late,” I say, then nod toward the cameras. “Afraid of something?”
He leans down until he’s inches from my face.
With a deep inhale, he closes his eyes and whispers, “Home,” so low that only I can hear.
The single word sends my heart hammering in my chest, at least until he pulls back and says something else for our audience.
“Or maybe just homeless. I can’t decide, but you do smell like something I probably want to forget. ”
I shove Aric aside and barge in. “Creepy, even for you, Erikson.”
He looks over my head as he shuts the door. “Rowen. You made it.” His jaw ticks. “And you’re wearing another suit. Own anything different, or is it only business for you? Never pleasure?”
“I don’t know, do you ever run a brush through that ridiculous hair of yours?” Rowen counters.
“Some might say unkempt, where others might say easier to pull.” Aric winks at me.
I feel my face heat.
I have in fact pulled his hair, many times.
I glance away from Rowen’s knowing stare.
“Make yourself at home,” Aric continues. “The party’s down by the water—drinks, food, fireworks, you know the drill.”
Eira grabs Rowen’s arm. “I need my security detail!” She loops her arm in his, and off they go. I can’t decide if I’m annoyed or just curious why Rowen lets her treat him like she owns him.
Aric brings me back to the present by leaning down and brushing his fingers along my cheek. “You look like you’re deep in thought and you’re blushing. Are you thinking impure thoughts about belonging in my arms?”
My breath hitches. “First off, I belong to no one except for my cute cat mug. Second, you guys really need to stop the my dick is bigger than your dick competition. He’s just…
scared for me, I think. Father isn’t going to be thrilled about the idea of a party, and Rowen doesn’t want to bury me. I don’t want to be buried.”
“That, I imagine, is an opinion shared by all living things.”
“True.” Our words hang between us until I shove past him. “You seem happy, despite getting punched in the face today.”
“I heal quick. Besides, it’s part of my charm.
Laughter in the face of danger.” He flicks my nose, then leans down like I’m two feet tall.
“And just in case you weren’t already aware.
Be careful tonight. Especially around…” He swallows.
“The staff. Okay? Everything we say or do will be reported to Sigurd.”
“Well, considering we’re always under surveillance in public, I think I can handle it.” In private is a completely different story.
He smirks. “I’m not sure I can handle it, not with you looking at me like that.”
“Like how?” I ask.
“Like you want to kiss me again,” he rasps.
“Maybe that’s the way I look at people I want to kill.”
He lets out a low groan. “You already sleep with me every night…‘on accident.’” He makes fake quotation marks. “And you’re making it harder to stay away while your words and actions point at you doing nothing but retreating.”
I ignore how close he is to the truth. “Accidental would be stumbling drunk into your room. I don’t even remember leaving my bed for yours that first night.”
His smile’s stunning. “But now you remember it, don’t you? My bed.”
My entire body sizzles with awareness. Oh yes, his bed, his arms, everything forbidden and untouchable wrapped around me like a cocoon. Perfect. Addicting.
There’s a staff member watching us from the corner. I can tell because she’s been dusting the same spot for our entire conversation. Aric picks up on it and backs away slightly. She walks away, only for another one to come in.
He glances over at us. I stare him down in a challenge, and then I lean in closer to Aric, who grins down at me.
He leans in closer, too. Unexpected. His smug smile pushes through, and all I can focus on is his lips, his mouth, the way I know it feels on me, and then I start wondering about the things it can do.
Bad thoughts.
Very bad thoughts.
We’re so close, anyone watching would think we’re almost kissing, which: more power to ’em.
The staff member makes his way into an adjoining room, checks a cabinet, then types back on his phone like he’s checking a list or something.
He’s fooling no one. Well, if he wants a little show of how well we’re getting along…
“Oh, I remember your bed,” I tease. “I remember how all I want to do is sleep there…and nothing else.”
He moves closer to me and shrugs, then leans in and whispers so dangerously close to my mouth, I almost stop breathing. “Maybe that’s all we’ll ever do. But maybe I want to do something to test your self-control. God knows you’ve been doing it every single night you ‘sleepwalk’ into my room.”
I don’t retreat. I get right in his face. His eyes widen with amusement, with lust, and I can almost see them begin to glow. We still have an audience, and I wonder if they felt the shift in the room. The conversation has turned real.
I swear, every single ounce of tension that’s built up between us these last few days is about to combust.
I grin. “You’re welcome to try me.”
He leans over, so close it’s almost like he’s kissing my neck. “I think I already have.”