Chapter 26 #2
The casual way he discussed his own potential dismemberment, made me feel sick.
“Now, drink.”
My hand trembled slightly as I grabbed my champagne glass and took a long swallow.
Baron Ash went to a booth three tables away, his massive frame surrounded by a nervous-looking entourage. Even with Havoc’s power sealed down tight, I could feel the heat of his attention burning into the side of my neck.
“Relax,” Cipher murmured, his hand heavy and warm on my thigh. “He’s posturing. Ignore him and pay attention to me.”
“How long do we have to stay here?” I asked.
“Impatient?” Cipher ran his thumb along the inside of my knee. “I need to observe a few deals but we have a hard out in an hour. I’m scheduled to break into the First National Bank downtown at two a.m.”
I snorted into my glass. “Scheduled?”
“Don’t give me that look. You know the regulations better than I do, Sparks,” he drawled.
“If I don’t file the itinerary with the League’s PR department, how are the news crews supposed to get the lighting right?
How would the League stream the breach if they didn’t have time to set up the drone perimeter? ”
“I know, I know,” I said, giving a small, genuine laugh. “It’s just hearing you say it out loud ruins the mystique a little. I do love a good schedule, though.”
“Is that the trick, then? Would you get even wetter for me if I sent you a calendar invite for every time I planned to drag you into the Playroom? Should I schedule a block of time for you to ride my cock until you can’t walk, just so you can check it off your list?”
I rolled my eyes, trying to maintain the illusion of indifference, though I knew he could probably feel my pulse jump.
“I do appreciate organization,” I admitted, taking a sip of my drink. “But honestly? The impromptu stuff with you is actually kind of nice. I think I prefer not knowing when you’re going to pounce.”
Cipher pulled back, his mouth parting slightly. Then, a slow, satisfied smirk curved his lips. He looked pleased to hear me admit to enjoying the chaos he brought into my regimented life.
It had surprised me too, how okay I was being outside my comfort zone, as long as he was the one pulling me there.
“So,” I said, trying to steer us back to safer territory before he decided to demonstrate his appreciation of my admission right there in the booth. “Do you actually like that part? The scheduled villainy? Or do you prefer the stuff the cameras don’t capture?”
“I like both,” he answered without hesitation. “I’m a dramatic bitch, Sparks. You know this. I love the cameras and they love me. I love the fear in the public’s eyes when the news drones catch me blowing a vault door.”
He paused, his thumb resuming its slow, maddening stroke up my thigh.
“But I also enjoy the things that would turn the stomachs of most viewers,” he added, his voice dropping an octave, stripping away the humor. “The League deals in real darkness, too. The kind that doesn’t get ratings because it’s too ugly for TV. I like that just as much. Maybe more.”
I looked at him and realized that for the last five minutes, I hadn’t thought about Ash, or the Alliance, or the fact that I was technically a “prisoner.” It was shocking how easily the rest of the world dissolved when we were just talking.
When we stopped doing that convoluted dance of predator and prey and just existed in the same space.
“You’re terrible,” I whispered, but there was no heat in it.
“I know,” Cipher said, lifting his glass to mine. “But I think you like that about me.”
I made a small, skeptical noise in the back of my throat.
“Then why do you like me?” I asked. It was dangerous territory, asking a Villain to justify his obsession, but I wanted to know. “You could have anyone. You could have a Super with durability who doesn’t bruise when you look at them too hard. Why the interest in me?”
Cipher shifted, his hand sliding from my thigh to wrap around the back of my neck. His thumb pressed into my pulse point, and I could feel the steady thrum of my life beating against him.
“Because the Supers are boring,” he said. “They’re sturdy. Predictable. You...” He tilted my head back, forcing me to expose my throat to him. “You’re fragile. I like that I have to be careful. It makes the moments when I lose control much more satisfying.”
He leaned closer, his lips dragging along my jaw.
“And I like your mouth. I like that you argue with me right up until my cock is down your throat. Most women just submit. You make me work for it.”
He pressed his mouth against my throat and I sighed as he ran his tongue along my pulse point. I opened my mouth to respond, but movement in the periphery caught my eye.
The shadows three tables away shifted as Baron Ash stood up.
The air in the VIP section thickened, the temperature spiking noticeably. Ash radiated a dry heat, like standing too close to a blast furnace.
“Cipher,” I whispered, my muscles locking up.
“I see him.”
Ash crossed to us and when he stopped at the edge of our booth, he blocked out the club’s lighting, casting us in a shadow that felt suffocatingly hot.
“Can I help you, Ash?” Cipher drawled. “Or are you just here to ruin the ambiance?”
The molten fissures on his mask glowed brighter. “Enjoying your night?”
“I was,” Cipher drawled. “Until the smell of burnt meat arrived.”
Ash chuckled. “Keep the jokes coming. The League is reviewing my petition tomorrow. Once they approve the kill request for our match, you won’t be doing much talking.”
“If they approve, you’ll still fail to kill me. I’d say I’m looking forward to it, but I hate being bored.”
Ash tilted his head. The green eye visible through the slit in his mask shifted from Cipher to me and I stopped breathing.
I focused on the condensation sliding down the champagne bucket. I am furniture. I am a prop. I am nothing.
“You’ve been talking all evening,” Ash observed softly and my stomach dropped. “You were feeding her. You were laughing.”