Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 114936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
“Was there anyone else involved?” His voice is low enough to be a warning. I find myself losing my train of thought when I trace the edges of his naturally swollen lips.
“No,” I whisper, only it comes out broken from the saliva forming in my throat.
He stands back to his full height and kicks off his boots, tugging his shirt over his head from the back and throwing it onto a pile in the corner.
“Keaton…” I warn. “If Kyrin—”
“—don’t really give a fuck right now, Tigger.” I close my eyes and lean against the edge of the bath, listening as the clink of his belt falls to the floor before a long stretch of silence drifts between us. Just when I think he’s not going to do what he’s going to do, I feel his leg brush mine as he lowers himself into the bath opposite me. Keaton and I have kept each other at a distance, and most of the time I think I’m imagining the things I do. The long stares, brushes of hands, lingering touches. We fight as hard as we clearly care about one another, but it has always been clear. The lines have never been blurred.
Until now.
I should have at least left the lights on, and maybe not lit so many candles. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until I have to exhale slowly, shakily and desperately.
“Open your eyes.”
I slowly peel them open, and my teeth sink into my lower lip when I catch him staring at me. His hair’s damp and sticking up messily as if he just ran a wet hand through it, and his cheeks are pinched red from the hot water. Keaton is large, bigger than the other Brothers, so his whole torso is out of the bubbles, his long arms stretched wide across the edges. I fixate on one of the demons that is tatted over the front of his throat. He called it my pet when I was twelve years old. He tried to use it to scare me into thinking if I ever got a boyfriend, it would come out and kill him. Never thought much about that until right now.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks, and his tone is so low it’s a notch above a whisper. If it wasn’t for the tightness in his jaw, I would say he’s calm. But he isn’t. I don’t want to talk about it any more than I want to think about it. A jock locking me in a bedroom with his weird girlfriend and drugging me? No thanks. Hard pass.
“Was it messy?” I dip my fingers into the bubbles, forming a peak with my middle finger.
“You know we don’t share that shit with you.” His fingers come to mine and I pause, looking up at him behind damp lashes. My heart stammers in my chest, sending a live wire right between my thighs when his dark eyes settle on me. “Come here.”
“Keaton…”
He rolls his eyes, brushing bubbles into my face and leaning back against the tub. He brings his eyes back to mine, his lip twitching. “You wanna make me repeat myself?” Keaton and I have never flirted openly. Nothing as obvious as he’s being right now. What happened tonight was shitty, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy him here with me because he makes me feel safe. Keaton has always been the silent protector of the group, but his bullets are invisible. You never know you’ve been shot by him until it’s too late and you’re bleeding out onto the pavement watching your life flash before your eyes.
We’re in a bath. I don’t know if he’s naked, but I know I am. Not that nudity means anything to a Kiznitch, we’ve all seen each other naked, so that’s not what’s weird. What’s weird is that this whole exchange actually isn’t weird at all…
I slide forward, resting my hands on his tatted knees, as he widens them and leans farther back, his head resting against the back of the tub. He hooks his arm around my back, pulling me in against his chest. Water splashes onto the floor and I sigh as I rest against his solid chest. All the torment from tonight runs out of my system at the closeness of him, as if it knows it has nothing on who is beneath me. I’m not surprised that he has his briefs on still, of course, the sexual tension is all in my head. All one-sided. He’s merely comforting little Ice Princess of Mayhem, all while I’m drooling over my brother’s best friend.
His body shifts beneath me, and I feel his lips brush against my head. I trace the pattern of a skull and motorbike on his inner bicep. “I’m sorry you had to kill someone for me tonight.”