by Heather Long
She parted her lips. Finally. Some answers.
“No.”
The recoil of energy in that rejection staggered his brother, and Zhan gaped at her. Wheeling, he faced Tarus. “How is she doing that?”
“I have no idea,” he murmured. Tapping a single finger against the side of the glass, he waged the internal debate. Take what he wanted or coax it. Take or coax.
She was a brat if ever there was one, and brats shouldn’t be rewarded. But this could be Karmen’s doing. Damn her, why had she interfered?
“Bish is no one to us,” Tarus said finally as he refilled his glass and ignored the stunned look Zhan gave him. “An insignificant jerk at the best of times. Your turn.”
She shrugged. Well, she attempted to shrug. It was a little difficult with her arms tied the way they were. He did give her points for her stubborn determination.
“He was buying me a drink because I broke up with my boyfriend last night.” The corners of her mouth twitched. It was the truth.
“That’s not all of it,” Zhan said slowly. If anyone would know what the truth tasted like, it would have been Zhan, once.
“You wanted me to tell you. I’ve told you. I don’t recall there being a length requirement.” Then her gaze dipped to Zhan’s waist, and Tarus’ brows climbed. There was nothing lascivious about the way she blatantly studied Zhan. If anything, it was enchanting.
Enchanting?
“Are there?” she asked.
“Are there what?” Tarus replied, still turning over the unusual reaction she’d provoked. Who was this woman?
“Length requirements?” The emphasis she placed on the first single syllable word and how she lingered her attention on Zhan’s mid-section sent a mild wave of irritation through Tarus. Maybe she was exactly what Zhan needed. But sometimes, getting what was needed came at too steep a cost.
They both knew that.
“No,” Zhan answered after a moment.
“Pity,” she popped off, and jerked her gaze up to look at their ceiling as she leaned backward as though to test the ropes.
Glancing at him, his brother mouthed ‘pity?’ Tarus shrugged. The innuendo made sense, but the rest of it…not so much.
Then something she said earlier clicked. “Why did you break-up with your boyfriend?”
Dahlia giggled.
The sound grew in force and volume as her face reddened and she hiccupped through the mad laughter. Again.
Zhan turned wide eyes on him. The boyfriend was going to kill her. They’d seen it in his heart. It had echoed in every gesture he’d taken.
But she broke up with him.
“Let’s just say,” she answered finally, tears gleaming on her lashes. “We were going in two totally different directions.”
No. That wasn’t it. It wasn’t a lie, or at least, he didn’t detect one, and Zhan didn’t challenge her. Still, it wasn’t the whole story. When Zhan retrieved a glass, Tarus filled it for him before refilling his own.
Dahlia watched them both from beneath her lashes, and for the first time in his existence, Tarus genuinely had no idea what to do.
Fuck her.
Be fucked.
Let her go.
Keep her forever.
The minute the last thought registered, he felt more than saw Zhan whip his head in his direction.
They couldn’t keep her forever.
She was human.
She would die.
She was supposed to have died.
But now she was here.
Tarus tossed back the drink.
“So…” Dahlia drew out the word. “What now? We all stare at each other dramatically as the music signals that next time on Tied Up with Zhan and…” She paused. “What was your name, sweetie?”
“Tarus,” he and Zhan said in the same breath.
She smiled. “Thank you.”
He blinked. Wait, they hadn’t even fought answering that.
“…next time on Tied Up with Zhan and Tarus, will Dahlia ever get free? Will they ever give her a drink? What tricks are hidden up her non-existent sleeves?” She intoned a dun, dun, dun.
If he kissed her, would she be quiet?
He would bet his wings she was a screamer.
Then she started humming.
Zhan thrust his glass at him, and Tarus refilled it automatically.
Maybe Zhan should kiss her first.
She wanted to bite him, and it didn’t work that way. Tarus bit. He didn’t get bitten.
Ever.
5
‘Justice is swift,’ except when he’s been drinking, and damn, can he drink. - Dahlia
Dahlia
“What is that you’re humming?” Zhan asked as he downed his drink. The inquisitiveness was starting to push the suspicion out. It was in the loosening of his shoulders, the quirk of his lips, and the way he edged closer with desire in his eyes instead of distrust.
“‘Grind On Me’ by Pretty Ricky.” I continued to hum, though it was damn hard to project. They were half a room away, over by the alcohol.
Tarus used his free hand to bunch his beautiful hair back from his face. I’d never thought men with long or curly hair were attractive, but something about his rich, sandy brown hair with large waves really did it for me. The light really did something for him, softened him and chased away the shadows I’d seen at the bar. Even his stunning face that was currently twisted in a what is wrong with you expression. Did I mention he had a long, straight nose that tipped up on the end?
So attractive.
“But why?” Zhan asked. Now, he was just as delicious, and every time he turned away, I almost caught a glimpse of…something hovering behind his frame.
“Subliminal messaging.” I smirked, trying really fucking hard to not fall into another random fit of laughter. There was only myself to blame if they thought I was crazy. And from their covert glances to each other, they did.
I’d have to thank Seth when I got out of here. This was the most uninhibited fun I’d had in…well, ever. We all knew Alex was about as fun as a rusty bear trap.
Oh, I’d been afraid at first. Who wouldn’t after being spirited away by an angel-man? Especially once he’d tied me up. I should have fought him harder. Hell, I should have fought, period. But he distracted me with his gorgeous dark eyes. And damn it, he smelled really good!
It was like I was in some kind of hot guy trance, and he could have done anything he wanted and I was along for the ride. I mean, he kind of did—he tied me up on their kink wall. Red room of pain? Try the green room of gratification. Okay, the room was actually a dark gray, almost charcoal with undertones of blue, it just didn’t sound as good.
Every kind of sex toy or contraption I’d ever heard of adorned the walls. They definitely had that jaded bad boy vibe going on.
Now that I was confident they didn’t want to kill me, not that it would have mattered, this was going to be everything I could hope my last few weeks on Earth would be. If given the choice, who wouldn’t want to spend their last days being sexed up by bad boy angels?
Exactly.
Zhan dropped his head and sighed dramatically. “I can’t, Tarus. I just can’t.”
Tarus patted him on the back like he understood completely. “I know, we’ve never had someone here before that needed Wisdom so much. I think he skipped over her when she was a baby.”
Wait a minute.
What the fuck?
Were they talking about wisdom like he was an actual person? I mean angel? Fuck, not angel. Seth said they weren’t angels, but he never actually told me what they were.
“Fuck you, too.” I spat.
“Is that more subliminal messaging?” Zhan asked Tarus in all seriousness.
“No, that was just a good old-fashioned insult for being such a dickhead,” I yelled. Because it was liberating to say exactly what was on my mind.
My whole life, I’d been the good girl, the helper, the friend, the listener. Look where that got me. I’d already
decided I was going to do things differently this next month, so why not be the real me?
Zhan focused on me, and everything else disappeared completely. Except Tarus, he stayed.
Then, as if he didn’t feel the vivid sexual tension between us, he turned to Tarus, holding up his glass. “I need another.”
Like a jerk, Tarus nodded and poured a double. “I’m going to have one, too.”
“What about me? Don’t I get a drink? You know, I might be more compliant if you plied me with the good stuff.” I gestured toward the bottle with the only part of me available—my chin.
They were actually considering it!
Then Tarus shook his head. “No, I think it’s too dangerous. You know how alcohol affects humans.”
“What? They tell the truth?” Zhan scratched his jaw as if he really had to think about the effects.
I couldn’t really dispute that. A drunk man’s words were a sober man’s thoughts and all that.
“No,” Tarus lowered his voice like he was about to impart some great secret. “They turn into neurotic squirrels hyped up on caffeine. That’s good for nobody. I say we keep the alcohol away for now.”
And there went my good mood.
All it took was a few words from a hot man. Angel.
Figured.
“There is something we haven’t tried.” I didn’t like the way Tarus said that. Not at all.
The rope bit into my wrists as I tugged on them one more time. If they were getting ideas that didn’t include a happy ending, I needed to get off the kink wall.
If I could just get loose, there were a plethora of objects that could double as weapons. It was also my luck that Zhan was a knot master because these babies weren’t budging.
Zhan took a sip of, what, his third drink while in this room? Yeah, their calculation wasn’t giving me good vibes right now.
He prowled closer, twisting his glass in his hand and pursing his lips to the side. When he reached my platform, he placed a warm palm on my bare waist and my world tilted. Why did all of these men have to have sexually lethal touches?
“I know, Tarus. You could use your grace to make her talk. It wouldn’t technically go against our vow in this specific situation.” The corners of his mouth curved into a sensual smirk.
His grace? Oh. Hell. Yes. I’d tasted Seth’s grace. That had to be what turned that kiss electric. Tingles raced out over my flesh as Zhan stroked his thumb against my skin. If my nipples got any tighter, I’d be able to cut glass. The ache intensified, and liquid heat sprawled through my system.
“No.” The immediate response threatened to crash the endorphin high the very idea had given me. But Zhan glided his hand a little higher until it was under the shirt and against my rib cage. The rapid cadence of my heart begged him to keep going higher. When he grazed his tongue over his lower lip, I swore I came. Not really, but the urge to clench my thighs together was impossible to ignore.
“Why are you fighting us?” Zhan asked, the sweetness teasing me like a sugar coated lip on a tangy margarita. “You don’t have to.”
Man. I both hated and loved them right now, because I could so easily just dive into that sensual pool and say do whatever, just let me feel all of this. At the same time… “Are you for fucking real?” The question popped out, and his eyebrows quirked.
When his hand teased at the edge of my bra, he smirked. “Do I feel real?”
“You feel like a tease who wants me to do what you want and nothing of what I want. So…eh.” The nonspecific answer seemed to puzzle him.
“You are so stubborn.”
“Thank you.” Go along to get along? Not fucking hardly. Not anymore. Though I could definitely use a little more friction or just about anything.
Tarus prowled the room, never quite coming close. Though when he disappeared from my line of sight, apprehension shivered over my skin.
“You like this,” Zhan continued in a suggestive, if soothing croon. With one finger, he slid under the bra and teased the underside of my breast. Yeah, I did. I’d like it a lot more if the clothes were off and his mouth was there, but I had begun to suspect this was all leading to a really disappointing end.
Sighing, I tilted my head back to drag my gaze away from him. It wasn’t fair. Get to know them, Seth said. Better if I didn’t know anything about them. Well, here I was, getting to know them. Zhan wavered back and forth in a mercurial fashion, leaving me wanting to comfort and kick him in equal measure, while Tarus seemed far edgier and more dangerous.
Weird, when you consider which one of them kidnapped me.
A yawn tore at my jaw, and I stretched. All Zhan seemed to do was pet my skin, and as nice as that was, I wanted a lot more and he wasn’t getting there. Though when my jaw popped with the tired, he stilled. This close, I couldn’t miss the scent of the alcohol on his breath as he pulled his touch from my side. I did my best not to sigh at the loss, but damn, just rev a girl up and leave her hanging.
Story. Of. My. Life.
The sweet pressure of that hand cupped my chin and then nudged me down to face him again. Curiosity filtered through his dark eyes, and the flash of something behind him intensified. Drowning in his scent, I filled my lungs with it.
You know that feeling you get when you walk into a bakery first thing in the morning and the decadence of fresh-baked bread fills the air? Or maybe that first twist of pleasure when your partner finally nails just the right spot?
This was so much better.
No doubt in my mind, my panties were wet.
“Who are you?” he whispered.
“Dahlia,” I told him, elongating each syllable. “We did this already.”
“No, lovely,” Zhan continued in that nearly hypnotic, rich tone. The warmth of his fingers on my face tempted me to lean into the contact. Ha, who was I kidding? I totally leaned into it. If I could get out of these stupid ropes, I’d rub myself all over him. At least then I might get off. “Who are you? Really?” His lips were so close to mine…
Fuck it.
I licked him. Stroked my tongue right across his lower lip and then clamped my mouth to his. The taste of his whiskey was nothing compared to the sweet taste of him. Awareness sizzled through me as every part of me seemed to go on point. For the barest second as my tongue teased his, he didn’t move. No reaction. Nothing.
Way to kill a lady boner.
Still, I licked him.
He was mine.
I pulled my head back, but he suddenly wrapped his hand on my nape and slammed his mouth back onto mine. Brutal contact. Bruising pressure. Fucking awesome kiss that I felt all the way to my toes. His tongue didn’t just sweep inside my mouth, it stormed in and parried my tongue to the side and then down. It was like we were tongue-wrestling. Now this was a sport I could get behind.
A groan vibrated in my throat as he slid his hand up to fist my hair. A tug from him lit up my scalp and intensified the pressure of the kiss. I pulled at the ropes, my hands flapping uselessly in the air, unable to touch him anywhere. Zhan lifted his head, my lips still clung to his as if stuck for a moment before he pulled back.
His lashes were half-lowered, and his breath came in swift pants. Oh, baby. He was not unaffected. I licked my lips slowly, savoring the taste of him. The flavor was pure sensual overload. He dipped his gaze to my mouth or my breasts. I had no idea which, but I could totally get on board with either. He tightened his grip on my hair, pulling my head until I tilted it, baring my throat, and then he kissed me again, and the tension in me split wide open because there was a thigh between mine.
A heavy, thick thigh pressed right up against the seam of my jeans. Fuck. Yes.
I couldn’t move enough to create any kind of friction, but the pressure intensified with the kiss as he fucking devoured me. Brain cells expanded and then exploded like fireworks. If he wanted to render me compliant, hell yes, baby, take me now.
A bite against my jaw, and I released a low keening noise. I wanted to kiss him some more, but he kissed
a path to my throat that had me shuddering and whining. The slow trace of his tongue against my pulse point sent a very vital, urgent message to my pussy. F.M.P. Fuck me, please.
The caress of that hot mouth turned my blood to molten lava. Then he was teasing my ear, and the bite of his teeth against the lobe threatened to submerge me completely. No threat required, I let go and just sank into the pleasure. Every part of my body hummed. Everywhere he touched me seemed to magnetize, desperate to stay connected to him. Each breath an alluring invitation my body was more than happy to RSVP.
“Dahlia,” he murmured my name, and the tension in my core burst. Fuck me, I came. The eddies of pleasure surged out, and I dropped through them. “Tell me.”
“Yes.” I managed the single syllable as I fell. Rapture expanded. I fucking orgasmed from his mouth on me. Not anywhere particularly sensitive. If he actually put that mouth on my pussy, it was a one-way ticket to heaven.
I was so ready for that ride.
Another nipping kiss, and I moaned.
The soft chuff of laughter just beside me lit me up, adding an even darker decadence to the pleasure rippling through me.
“Too much,” Tarus said, and there was heat against my side and the very firm pressure of a hand against my ass. The world was a haze of pleasure. Zhan nipped at my throat again. “Zhan, you need to ease up…”
“Fuck off,” he said, and his knee pressed upward, the pressure perfect, and one roll of my hips had me spasming. Fuck.
Yes.
Oh. Fuck.
I was going to come again.
“Tell me,” Zhan demanded, even as Tarus clamped his hands on my hips. The heat burned right through me. Zhan pulled my hair, and that was it, I tumbled right over the precipice and fell.
“Yes,” I sobbed with the release. It was too much, not enough, and everything. “Anything.”
“Who are you?”
“Yours,” I told him. “Yours.”