Chapter Nine #2
The tension in the room shifted into something downright dangerous. It was like my little confession was the match that was about to blow everything up.
But instead of pushing, like I thought he was going to—like I probably would have let him—he sat up and leaned us over so he could grab a Truth card from the table.
“‘What’s something you’re ashamed of that you’ve never told anybody?’” His expression darkened as he read it.
The silence stretched, as if he was contemplating drinking, stripping, or telling me his darkest secret. His hands found the exposed flesh of my thighs, and he slowly trailed his fingers up, just hovering below the hem of the shirt.
I didn’t say anything, just let him process whatever was running through his mind.
“The first week inside prison, some inmate decided I would be an easy target. He saw a young kid, decent family, trying to convince everyone I was innocent, that I wasn’t the monster the papers had made me out to be. I smashed his face in. Broke his orbital bone. Knocked his teeth out.”
I should have been terrified. Should have tried to scramble off his lap to put distance between us. But I didn’t. “And you’re ashamed of that?” I whispered.
His hand came up and he turned my face slightly toward him. “No, little lamb. I’m ashamed that I enjoyed it.”
My breath caught, but not from fear. For whatever reason, I didn’t think Valen would hurt me. There was a vulnerability in his voice that I hadn’t heard before.
“I’m not the same man who went in. These hands…” He studied his hand, like it belonged to someone else and not him. “They’ve taken lives. They’ve done things I never thought I was capable of.”
“Valen…”
He brushed his thumb across my bottom lip, his eyes meeting mine. “Now you know exactly what kind of man I am. What I’ve become.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be.” He smirked and released my chin. “Your turn.”
We were still playing after we’d established he was an actual murderer, and I wasn’t bothered by the idea nearly as much as I should have been.
Perfectly normal behavior.
I was pretty sure we’d passed our three rounds, and I didn’t need to be on his lap anymore, but for whatever reason, let’s call it insanity, I stayed exactly as I was.
I grabbed a Sin card. “‘What’s one dirty thing you’d do to another player?’ Hmm, probably eat cherry pie off your abs.” OK, it was a weird answer, but I needed something to break the tension in the room.
I glanced over my shoulder at him to find his face blank. “Cherry pie?”
“Oh, yeah. Because your abs are ungodly perfect and I look at them and think what a travesty it would be to not, you know, appreciate them properly.” The words tumbled out, my face heating.
What had started out as a joke was quickly turning into some weird fantasy.
“And cherry pie is my favorite food. But it would probably be really messy and sticky. Actually, it would definitely be sticky…”
His mouth curved into that wicked smile and he shook his head. “Just when I think you couldn’t possibly surprise me anymore.”
“What, you’ve never met a virgin with a cherry pie fetish? Weird. Anyway, your turn.”
I knew we needed to end the game before things got really out of control, but I couldn’t bring myself to be the one who ended it.
This was the most I’d shared with anyone in, well, six years.
And if I was being honest, it was the most fun I’d had too.
A part of me didn’t want it to end, even though tomorrow I would probably be mortified.
“‘Kiss another player for thirty seconds, anywhere but their lips.’”
You could have heard a pin drop in the room, that was how quiet it got.
For a long moment, we stayed still, him staring at the card.
He tossed it onto the table and my spine straightened, bracing for what was to come next.
But instead of him leaning over to kiss me, he reached for the whiskey bottle.
My stomach dropped, which made no sense. It wasn’t like I wanted him to kiss me. I mean, the card wasn’t even for kissing on the lips. So why did it feel like a rejection? And why did it sting?
Maybe it was my ego, but I thought I surprised us both when I scoffed before I could stop myself.
“Seriously?” I laughed.
His hand froze on the bottle. “Seraphine…”
I held my hand up. “No, I get it. The virgin thing was weird.” Heat flooded my cheeks, the embarrassment eating at me. “You don’t want to deal with someone who’s inexperienced. It’s OK.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growled, his jaw flexing.
“Yes, I do.” I lifted my chin. I knew I shouldn’t provoke him, shouldn’t poke the bear, but I couldn’t stop once I’d started. “You’ve done every dare without hesitating. But a simple kiss, not even on the lips, and suddenly you don’t want to play? You’re a coward.”
Before I could even blink, he had me flipped around so that I was straddling him. He wrapped my ponytail around his fist and tugged my head back. The move was rough, but gentle at the same time.
“What did you just call me?” His face was inches from mine.
My pulse hammered, but I forced myself to hold his stare. “A coward.”
“You think I’m afraid to kiss you?” His eyes flashed with something dark, something almost hungry.
“Yes.” I knew I was playing with fire, but I didn’t care at this point. “Maybe the cherry pie thing was too much for you, but I’ll have you know that food and sex is a perfectly normal combination, and I could find plenty of guys who’d be happy to—”
The words died on my lips as his grip tightened in my hair. A low, dangerous sound rumbled in his chest.
“You want to know why I won’t do the dare?” I could tell he was barely hanging on to control by the change in his voice. My toes curled involuntarily as his breath brushed across my lips.
“Because if I start kissing you anywhere, then I won’t stop.
Thirty seconds will turn into thirty minutes.
You know how I know?” He didn’t wait for me to answer as his fingers dug into the flesh of my ass.
“Because you’re like a drug, and one hit wouldn’t be enough, little lamb.
You probably don’t even realize you’ve been grinding your pussy against me for the last ten minutes.
That I’ve been praying for some sort of divine intervention because if you didn’t stop, I was going to slide those panties down and show you exactly what you’ve been missing out on, even though I told myself I wouldn’t fuck you until you begged me.
Until you crawled on those pretty hands and knees and begged for my cock. ”
My breath caught at the roughness in his voice. I hadn’t realized I’d been grinding myself on him, and the thought should have been embarrassing, but instead, a whimper escaped my lips.
Something snapped behind his eyes, and he gripped my chin gently with his free hand. “Thirty seconds,” he said, like he was talking more to himself than me.
Then his mouth was on my throat, right over the scar that had defined my life for the past six years. But instead of him devouring me like I thought he would, he was achingly gentle. His lips moved softly over my skin, and I couldn’t stop the moan that spilled from my lips.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured against my neck.
When he pulled back, his breathing was ragged and matched my own. “Satisfied?”
I couldn’t speak, could barely think straight. The feeling of his lips burned on my skin, and I reached up, tracing with my fingers where his lips had just been. How could a kiss that wasn’t really a kiss make me unravel so quickly?
“That’s enough games for tonight.” He stood, taking me with him, but then dropped me onto the couch. “Goodnight, little lamb.”
He headed down the hall to his room and stopped when he reached the door. But he didn’t turn back around. Instead, he went inside and shut the door, the sound of the lock deafening.
I sat there, my body still humming, wondering if he’d locked the door to keep me out… or keep himself in.