Chapter Forty
Ingram
Every last time I looked at the woman across the table from me, my brain about shorted out and fucked right off.
It was like she held some weird control over me, and I didn’t even have it in me to try to fight.
Fuck, I think I rather liked it. The world quieted down, that gnawing, all-consuming pain inside of me, went dormant in a way it never did normally.
Even the things I did to fill it, to quiet it, only hushed it for such a short time I wondered if it were useful at all. The moment it was over, the moment the tattoo gun stopped running or I pulled out of a willing body, it all started right back up, demanding more, never satiated, never enough.
Except with her.
I hadn’t even gotten my dick into her, but my body had stayed quiet and happy all damn night. It even went back to that same place when I looked at her, like she’d tamed it into a fucking little puppy to wag its tail at her feet. Just how the fuck had she managed to do what nothing else ever had?
It was only when she narrowed her eyes like a challenge that I realized I stared at her.
Then again, that sure as fuck was my preferred reaction.
I liked that she didn’t wilt, that she stood toe-to-toe with me even when terrified.
I liked that she snapped, that despite the way she’d tremble, she didn’t back down.
And just like that, I was hard again, the memory of her scent in that room, the guiding that had happened just from being close to her. I groaned and shifted in my seat, trying to get a little more comfortable.
“Could you try not popping a boner in a nice restaurant like this?” Carter asked with a bright smile on.
“Like you’re any better,” I snapped back.
“Want to come check?” Carter actually batted his lashes at that, like he was flirting with me.
I knew better than to trust anything that came out of the consummate liar’s mouth—and never to put anything in there, either.
Anyone who would trust that man with their dick was an idiot and had far too much faith in others.
“I want table-side guac,” Kenyon said, telling me he hadn’t been paying any attention to the conversation. Not exactly a surprise—he rarely followed along with any conversation unless he found a reason to. “And a strawberry margarita.”
“What are you, a teen girl?” I asked when he suggested the dumb choice, as though I weren’t used to this nonsense from him.
Kenyon shrugged, not the least bit bothered. “What? They’re good.”
“Little girls drink flavored drinks like that. Men drink liquor.”
“You took a sip of my margarita last time and you loved it!”
“I was already drunk! I would have loved random stickiness licked off the floor by that point.”
Kenyon snorted softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll share my drink if you want.”
I didn’t bother to argue with him over it—no point. Arguing with Kenyon was like kicking a dog—no one learned anything from it and it was just mean.
The server—a pretty girl in her twenties with hair so red it was clearly dyed—came to the table. “Sorry for the wait—we’ve been really busy.”
In reality, it had only been a few minutes.
Of course, we often got pretty good service when we went out.
Espers, even those who didn’t flaunt what they were, got noticed.
It wasn’t even just our appearance that caused it, but something else, something deeper.
It was like humans could still feel the corruption that had become a part of us.
It should have signaled danger, but often drew interest along with it.
I had to imagine it was like watching a tiger or a cobra—humans were fascinated by that which could kill them.
“What can I get you all?” Her voice was upbeat and friendly, balancing on the line between professional and flirting. Whether she did that for tips or because she was actually interested, I had no idea.
Of course, before, I would have jumped all over that option. How many servers had given me at least a short reprieve? In a dark corner, a bathroom, a maintenance closet. Location didn’t matter, because I could get exactly as creative as I needed to.
So why was it when she leaned in closer to me, when a glance down her shirt revealed a lacy bra, I felt exactly nothing? No heat, no desire, no clawing need that made me desperate to get her somewhere private.
Or not private at all. I’d never minded an audience, after all. I didn’t give a fuck if people watched, and in fact enjoyed that particular kink from time to time.
This time, however, I didn’t feel that need. She struck me about as appetizing as an overcooked, cold steak. Nothing about her called to me, even though on the surface, I couldn’t deny she was pretty enough, that on paper, she had everything I needed.
So why the fuck wasn’t I interested?
The answer sat across the table, ordering a water rather than anything with alcohol, seemingly oblivious to my confusion.
Girl had no idea the chaos she caused, did she?
The server took the orders and left, returning fast enough that it was clear she was going to be giving us the lion’s share of her attention during our meal. Of course, the way she responded to Yun was a far cry from the rest of us.
We got smiles and lingering glances—Yun got water in a cup with a big ol’ smudge on it.
Kenyon took the glass and wiped it clean with his napkin, then pushed it back over to her. “You know, you could have had an actual drink.”
“I don’t drink,” she said.
“Why the fuck not?” I asked, voice sharp even if I knew I should have eased it a bit.
At least she didn’t flinch, instead giving me one of those heated glares that blurred the line between hatred and sexual attraction. “I don’t like to feel out of control.”
“Yeah, well, in my opinion you’d do well to be far less controlled.”
She pressed her lips together, frustration etched across her lovely features. “What does it matter to you?”
“Just figured if you got that stick out of your ass, you’d be a bit more fun to be around.” I shrugged, lifting my glass of tequila to my lips.
“I’m not not fun. I’m sorry that not all of us can be out there drinking and whoring.”
“Well, you could be, but instead you choose this bullshit.”
“What bullshit?”
“Prudish, hates everyone, untrusting bullshit, that’s what.”
“Knock it off,” Carter said, his voice somehow friendly despite the clear threat there. It was always impressive the way he could both sound terrifying and cordial at the same time. “This isn’t why we took her out today.”
Yun sat up straighter at that. “Why did you take me out, then?”
And just like that, we all froze like we’d gotten caught. Leave it to one scrap of a female to put a group of dangerous espers in our places, our gazes all down to not make eye contact.
“You told them, huh?” Her question could have been to anyone, but the way Kenyon responded said he knew exactly who she meant.
“I just said you were a little stressed.” His words came out sullen and apologetic. “Figured a day away from the compound would do you well. Stress isn’t good on the body, you know.”
I could almost hear her grinding her molars at that, a pretty good indication she didn’t agree. Or, at least, that she didn’t want to have everyone in her business.
Which I got. Carter and Kenyon had some idea of why I acted the way I did, but only Shear had gotten a first row seat to it.
Only he knew exactly how fucked up I really was, only he’d gotten to experience it at it’s worse.
I wasn’t all that interested in broadcasting it, so I understood why she might not love it, either.
“Yeah, well, you suck,” Yun muttered, words soft and angry, before she reached out, across the table to snag my glass of tequila right from my hand.
She tipped it back, downing one hell of a large gulp, followed by a cough that Kenyon tried to help by hitting his palm against her back.
Once she’d ended the coughing fit, she didn’t slow at all, swallowing two more gulps that finished the entire glass.
She slammed it against the table, her gaze locked on me like one hell of a challenge.
And it seemed like my erection was going exactly nowhere anytime soon.