Chapter 20
Chapter twenty
Greer
I feel as if I’ve been fucked within an inch of my life, but there was no cock inside me.
The orgasm I had on Remi’s thigh was just that incredible, like I touched the clouds of heaven and came back to earth.
It was better than any orgasm I’ve ever had, including the one I gave myself last night. But both knocked me out.
When I woke up wrapped in a blanket on the couch downstairs, I wasn’t sure what had happened.
For a moment, I thought I’d woken up in another weird dream before Remi assured me I was awake and Kai had gone to get dinner ready for the inn.
I had half a mind to ask if Kai worked double duty at the bar and the inn, but that seemed like a self-answered question.
Or one I can ask at dinner, because they invited me to eat with them, and I said yes.
I smooth my hands down the royal-blue silk blouse with a deep V that I wore under my suit yesterday along with my trousers.
It will have to do since I’m out of options and my more casual pair are hanging in the bathroom to dry.
When I made myself come on Remi’s thigh, I literally soaked my underwear and the crotch of my pants.
I had no choice but to hand-wash them in the sink so they wouldn’t be ruined.
I wish I had a dress or something sexier, but my trip to Garland wasn’t supposed to turn into a weekend away.
The thought reminds me I’ve been busy enough that I haven’t thought about work in hours. That’s very odd for me, especially considering I’m always thinking about work or something to do with work.
I do a final check over my appearance in the mirror. My makeup is on point, and my hair looks perfectly curled thanks to the curling iron I found in the bathroom.
I half turn away when a reflection of light stops me, and I look into the mirror to see where it came from. Behind me, hanging from the doorframe, is mistletoe. But that’s not what made the light reflect—that was caused by what’s adorning it, a glass ornament of some kind.
I turn and step closer to it. With my height and heels on, it’s easy for me to pull the single decoration off the nail.
The plant feels rough on my palm. And while I shouldn’t be surprised once I see what the ornament is, my stomach flips nonetheless.
It’s a crystal pair of angel wings.
“Is this a secret religious town that’s actually a cult or something?” I ask, as if the town is somehow personified and will answer me. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen angel decor—it’s been everywhere. Mostly things like this. Wings.
I hold the mistletoe in one hand and gently brush my finger over the glass feathers, a vision playing in my mind from last night, the one of Kai sandwiched between Remi and Sam.
I’d forgotten about the tattoo on his back, a massive black-and-gray set of wings that spanned his shoulders, moving with his muscles as if they were alive and real.
The echoes of my nightmare still cling to me, refusing to fade the way they usually do after I wake up.
Nephilim.
Half angel, half human.
I’ve never heard of a Nephilim before. I’m not religious, and my parents weren’t, either. Avery and her family also weren’t, but she has always been a well of random information, and I know she watches paranormal shows. I bet if she were here, she’d know if that was a real thing or not.
Does it matter, though? It was a nightmare. Kai can have a tattoo of angel wings, but it doesn’t mean he’s a supernatural being. And while this town is kitschy, I don’t think it’s a religious cult. I’m just overthinking and getting into my head.
With a sigh, I toss the mistletoe on the bathroom counter and turn away.
The ornament makes contact with the porcelain sink, and I hear a distinct crack, one that tells me I most likely broke it.
I wince and think about turning back. That’s when I see it—a flashing light coming from my phone, which is plugged in on the bedside table.
I rush from the bathroom, hoping that means I have notifications coming in. “Please, please, please, let there be reception!”
I grab my phone from the plug and see there’s one text message notification. My heart does a little flip but my face immediately falls when I see there aren’t any bars and no internet. There must have been something for a brief second, but now there’s nothing.
I puff out an annoyed breath, the relaxation I felt after my orgasm and little nap exiting my body. My shoulders tense, and I tap the notification to see it’s a text from Avery. I expect it to be a question about if I made it to the Roads Motel safely, but it’s not.
AVERY:
Tim didn’t deliver the eviction notice.
My stomach turns over, and the back of my throat gets tight, but I don’t have time to fully react to her not checking in on me because I really read and take in her message. I read it again, irritation building until I feel like I’m going to explode.
“Fucking fuck!” I stalk over to the window and look outside. It’s after seven now, and it’s dark. Despite the lack of daylight, I see snow falling in heavy flakes again. There’s no way I can leave tonight, and I’m sure I won’t be able to leave tomorrow.
I shift my gaze so I can see the main street, the area I walked earlier to the bakery. It’s lit up with streetlights and holiday lights, and the behemoth tree near the ice skating rink glows in all its annoying multicolored glory.
I’d gotten semi used to the overdone Christmas decor during my time with Remi, but now, it feels even more oppressive. Why? Because idiot-sandwich Tim didn’t do his job, and he might lose it. Or at the very least get demoted to a lower-paying position.
He has to know that, right?
“Idiot,” I chide him as if he can hear me. I don’t understand why he couldn’t do what I asked of him.
That’s a lie. I know why. It’s because of fucking Christmas.
He didn’t want to evict someone out of the kindness of his heart.
Apparently, I’m the only one who can keep a level head during the holiday season.
I should have done it myself, but I thought he would listen to the person in charge. Like I said, idiot.
I click over to open my email, fully prepared to prep another message to Mr. Cross. This one will be to let him know about Tim and his fuck up, but when I click to create a new message, my entire phone goes dark.
What the hell?
I press the power button, but nothing happens. I press it again, and when that doesn’t work, I plug it back into the charger. The screen remains dark.
“Ugh! What is it with this town?” I swear it’s like it hates technology and interaction with the outside world or something.
I haphazardly put my phone on the side table as a loud set of knocks fill the air, scaring the ever-loving shit out of me. I jump and place my hand over my chest.
“Greer, are you in there?”
The voice isn’t deep nor accented, clueing me in to who’s knocking. I exhale before taking in another breath, calming my heart.
“Greer?”
“Geez.” I walk toward the door, pulling it open. “Impatient much?”
Kai props himself on the doorframe, his long hair perfectly styled and a cheeky half grin on his face. His gaze unabashedly drops down my body as he visibly checks me out.
“Royal blue is definitely your color, Princess.”
The nickname does two things simultaneously. It ignites my annoyance because, like I’ve told him, I’m not a princess. Secondly, it reminds me of his appearance in my dreams.
I glance down at his outfit. He’s wearing the same top as before, but I think he’s wearing a new set of pants. I wonder if he had to wash his, too.
The corner of my mouth lifts up. “And you like to look like a model, Angel Boy.” The nickname is out of my mouth before I can think about it. I called him that several times last night, but never in reality. I blame it on the fact that I was just thinking about angels and his tattoo.
The air between us tightens like a bowstring, and he takes a step closer so he towers over me and there’s only half a foot between us. I swear, there must be something in the water here to make him and his boyfriends this tall and this hot.
I blink up at him, his brown eyes pools of warm chocolate. Those eyes watched as I got off on Remi’s thigh not long ago, and I’m not mad about it.
He tilts his head, dipping it down so we’re close enough I think we’re going to kiss. I’d say again, but we haven’t kissed in reality. Right?
“Angel Boy?” he questions.
For a brief millisecond, I debate telling him he was in my dreams last night, but I don’t want to talk about it. If I bring it up, he’d ask me what I dreamt about, and I’m not diving into memories and emotions with a man I hardly know. Physical, I can do. Emotional—not so much.
“Your tattoo,” I say. That makes more sense, anyway. Even if that nightmare was real—which it wasn’t—Nephilim aren’t real. Angels aren’t real. But the tattoo I saw last night was.
“Ah, yes,” he says. The pretty spark in his eyes dims before he blinks and it’s back. Was he disappointed that was my reason?
“Why else would I call you Angel Boy?”
He puts his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know. My first guess would have been because of my angelic good looks and sweet personality.”
The cocky and assured way he says it makes me smile. “Sweet?”
A strand of his long hair falls from behind his ear, and I have the strong desire to sweep it back. “I was a good boy for you today, was I not?”
The familiar pull I’ve felt in my stomach since I arrived here grows, and I want to throw myself into his arms and eat him up. I was hungry when I woke up from my nap, but now I’m very, very hungry.
“I’m not so sure being a good boy equates to being sweet,” I say.
“Maybe not, but I can assure you, I can be very sweet.”
I think of the way he whimpered and moaned when I saw him between Remi and Sam. Arousal rushes through my veins, and the familiar tingle between my legs has my temperature spiking. Those noises he made were very sweet.