Opposition

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  stalked toward me. “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “Do not.” I took a step back, my toes digging into the carpet.

  “Do too,” he murmured, one side of his lips kicking up.

  “That’s just your overactive ego and your wishful thinking talking.”

  Dark eyebrows rose. “Is that so, Kitten?”

  Fighting a grin, I nodded as I glanced at the clock again. We so had time. I shrugged.

  Challenge flared, deepening the hue of his eyes to a forest green, and a burst of excitement went off inside me like a firecracker. “I think I can prove that’s not the case.”

  “Whatever.”

  In the blink of an eye, Daemon was in front of me. I started to yell at him, because I still hated that, but he captured my mouth in a searing kiss that went straight to my knees.

  “All I need is ten minutes,” he said, voice gruff.

  “What happened to only needing two minutes?”

  Daemon chuckled as he reached down, caught the hem of my shirt, and tugged it over my head. “Well, what I plan to do is going to take a little longer than that.”

  He was remarkably skilled at taking my clothes off in record time. Before I knew it, I was standing there, feeling a wee bit exposed.

  Daemon stepped back, as if he was admiring his handiwork. “If I haven’t told you this before . . .” He dragged his gaze up, lingering on my chest until it felt like a physical touch. “I want you. I’ll always want you.”

  “Always?” I whispered.

  He stepped forward again, his hands closing around my arms as he lowered his head, brushing his lips along the curve of my cheek. “Always.”

  My chest rose, grazing his. The sensation rocked me. He made a deep sound in the back of his throat that twisted up my insides. He kissed me again as his hands skimmed down my arms to settle around my waist. I shivered, and at this rate, I didn’t think he’d even need two minutes.

  Daemon lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Not once did he break the kiss, and by the time my back hit the mattress, I was breathless with a thousand different kinds of wants.

  “How many minutes do we have left?” he asked as he shucked off his jeans.

  I smiled as he climbed over the top of me, and as he leaned down, the edges of his hair tickled my cheek. “I’ve totally forgotten about the minute thing.”

  “Wow. Already?” he murmured against my lips and curled an arm around my waist, lifting me up so our bodies were pressed together at all the amazing points. “I’m a little amazed by my own skill.”

  A laugh burst out of me, and he caught the sound with a grin and kiss, and then there really wasn’t room for laughing. He trailed a path of hot, tiny kisses across my forehead and then down, way down, where he lingered until he completely erased the whole idea of time and the fact we had things to do.

  When he rose again, my body was shaking as our hips met. “Kat, God . . . I love you.”

  There would never come a time when I’d grow tired of hearing those words or experiencing just how much he truly did love me. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, raining kisses across his cheek, his lips, and when his control shattered, I went along with it.

  I don’t know how long he moved while I was awash in a riot of sensations, but when I opened my eyes and his face was pressed against my neck, his brilliant light flickered over the ceiling.

  A lazy, contented smile pulled at my lips as he lifted his head and placed a kiss to my damp temple, and I fell in love all over again. When he rolled onto his side, he tugged me right along with him, and I rested my head on his chest, listening to the rapid thrum of his heart matching the pace in my chest.

  At some point, Daemon looked over his shoulder and cursed under his breath. “We have ten minutes before they show up.”

  “Holy crap!” I shot up, smacking his chest.

  He laughed as I scrambled off the bed. “Where are you going?”

  “I need to shower.” I tugged my hair out of the ponytail and then twisted it high up. Hurrying around the bed, I shot him a look.

  His gaze was trained way below my face. “You don’t need to shower.”

  “Yes I do!” I threw open the bathroom door. “I smell like—like you!”

  Daemon’s deep laugh followed me into the quickest shower I’d ever taken, which was surprising, because he hopped in and bathed like a total dude. Some soap here. Some soap there. That was all.

  I hated boys.

  There was enough time for me to grab the gift bag from my makeshift library of awesome books and run down the stairs before the front door rang.

  Daemon slid past me, reaching the door as I placed the pink gift bag on the couch. He shot me a look. “You still smell like me.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  He threw open the door before I could shriek and run back upstairs. And I was sure I looked really weird, because our guests stood at the door, wearing identical WTF expressions.

  Or else freaking Archer was peeping in my head.

  His amethyst-colored eyes glimmered with amusement. “Maybe.” He drew the word out, and my eyes narrowed.

  “You really need to stop doing that.” Dee brushed past him, her thick, curly hair trailing out behind her like a glossy high-def cape. “You know what he did yesterday?”

  “Do I even want to know?” Daemon muttered.

  Archer stepped in. “No.”

  “Great.”

  “We were at Olive Garden, and by the way, thank you for talking up the endless breadsticks crap, because I think we’ve eaten there like ten times this month, and I’m going to start smelling like garlic,” Dee went on, plopping in the recliner and tapping her ballet flats on the floor.

  “I like their soup and salad,” he said, shrugging as he walked over to the armchair and sat down.

  Daemon’s forehead wrinkled.

  “Anyway,” Dee said. “I thought our waitress was checking him out. Like nonstop. Like I wasn’t even there.”

  That was hard to imagine, treating Dee like she wasn’t there.

  “So I was, you know, doing something normal,” she said.

  “Normal?” Archer barked out a short laugh. “She was fantasizing running the poor waitress over with the car. Like in complete gory detail.”

  One slender shoulder rose as she shrugged. “Like I said, you shouldn’t look into people’s thoughts and then complain about what you see.”

  “I wasn’t necessarily complaining,” he said, leaning down so his mouth brushed the curve of her ear. “If I remember correctly, I’d told you that it was kind of hot and that it made me want—”

  “All right,” Daemon shouted. “That is stuff I just don’t even want to think about.”

  Dee frowned at her brother. “What? You think we don’t have wild—”

  “Stop,” he warned, waving his hand. “Seriously. I barely like him as it is, so please don’t make me want to hurt him.”

  “But I like you,” Archer replied.

  Daemon shot him a look that would send most running in the opposite direction. “I really regret suggesting that Dee get a place here. I wouldn’t have done it if I knew that was an invite when it came to you.”

  “Where I go,” Dee chirped, “he goes. We’re like a two-for-one special. Deal with it or get over it.”

  My smile grew when Dee’s eyes, so much like her brothers’, met mine. It was another thing I thought about a lot. The “what ifs” of everything, like what if Dee hadn’t broken the hold the Luxen held over her. Would she have died in the fight or would she have survived, only to leave Earth or be hunted down?

  Losing Dee, on top of what happened to my mother, was something I don’t think I ever would’ve gotten over. And Daemon? I didn’t want to even think about how he would’ve been affected. It would’ve broken him, almost had when Dee stood against us.

  She glanced at the small pink bag as she tucked her hair back. “What’s in there?”

  “Oh!” I snatche
d up the bag. “Something I had ordered.”

  Daemon shrugged when Archer glanced at him. “I don’t know what it is. She hasn’t told me.”

  Excited about my find, I reached inside the bag and held up the one-piece sleeper for their inspection. “What do you think?”

  Daemon’s brows rose as he read the words in black block lettering. “Boyfriends Are Better in Books?”

  Giggling, I placed it on the arm of the chair. “I think Dawson and Beth will appreciate it.”

  Archer looked confused. “I don’t get it.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Dee responded drily. “I think it’s adorable.”

  “Me, too.” I folded it up and tucked it back into the bag. “I’m going to get her addicted to book boyfriends at a young age.”

  “Her.” Archer shook his head as he blew out a breath. “I don’t know how long it’s going to take for me to get used to hearing that.”

  “You need to, because I doubt that’s going to change any time soon,” Daemon responded.

  “How do you know?” Archer shrugged. “She’s one of the first female Origins ever. Who knows what that kid will be capable of.”

  “Well, I seriously doubt changing genders is one of them.” Dee wrinkled her nose. “At least I hope not, because that would be weird.”

  Dawson and Beth had brought the surprise to end all surprises into the world when Beth gave birth to a baby girl, so much so that the first thing I thought of was Nessie, and then I couldn’t stop cackling for like fifteen minutes.

  “You guys ready?” Archer asked. He was already at the door, holding it open. “Guess who I heard from this morning?” He paused as Daemon strutted past him. “No, jackass, it wasn’t Justin Bieber and I’m not in love with him. What the hell?”

  Daemon chuckled.

  “Who?” I asked before the whole conversation derailed.

  He smiled at me as the door shut, locking behind me. Dee was already calling shotgun on the Jeep Archer was driving. “Hunter checked in. He was wondering how everyone was doing.”

  I exchanged a look with Daemon as he took my hand. We’d heard from him and Serena a few months ago. They’d been planning on moving out of his brother’s house, heading west. “Did he move?”

  “Yeah, he’s actually not that far from here. I think he settled in Boulder or somewhere close, since Serena’s from around here.” Archer fished out his car keys and we picked up the conversation once Daemon and I had piled into the back. “I imagine you might be getting a visit from them, sooner or later.”

  “Great,” Daemon muttered.

  Every Saturday we made the drive to their house. Even though the baby was old enough to go out and about, it wouldn’t be . . . um, the brightest idea. The baby had an odd habit of moving things without touching them, doing the eye-glowy thing, and last week, she’d levitated.

  Right off the floor.

  The house was on an acre of land, and thick trees gave the front of the house much-needed privacy. Dawson answered the door, smiling as he let us in. I frowned, because he looked different.

  Dee stretched up, rubbing his head. “Is this a dad haircut?”

  Ah. That. His hair was shorter now, cut close along the sides and a little longer on the top. It looked good on him. Then again, the brothers could go bald and they’d still look great.

  “I like it,” Archer said, grinning because it was nearly identical to his haircut.

  Beth appeared in the doorway leading to the living room. Propped against her hip was a smiling baby with a head full of dark curls. “I ordered Chinese,” she said, wincing. “I was going to make lasagna, but . . .”

  “Oh! Chinese is fine with us.” Dee sent me a look as she hurried down the hall, immediately going for the baby’s cheeks.

  We all had learned quickly that Beth couldn’t boil water. Ordering out was the much better option.

  We were herded into the living room, and I couldn’t help but be amazed by how different Beth looked. Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, her face fresh and glowing. She still had moments of . . . darkness and when she didn’t seem to have a tight grasp on reality, but she was much, much better.

  Daemon placed the gift bag on the end table where toys covered one corner of the living room. In the center of the stuffed animals and dolls were baby blocks spelling out a name.

  Ashley.

  It was beyond kind and perfect that Dawson and Beth had decided to name her after Ash. If it hadn’t been for her sacrifice, the three of them wouldn’t be here today.

  “You see that?” Dawson’s gaze followed mine, and his prideful grin was hard to miss. “She did that this morning.”

  My mouth dropped open. “She spelled her own name?”

  “Yep.” Beth glanced at Dawson. “Ash was on her mat, playing with her toys, and the next thing we know, she’s spelled her name.”

  Dee sat on a love seat beside Archer, pouting. “I couldn’t spell my name until I was, like, in the first grade, and that’s really sad, because my name is, like, three letters.”

  I laughed.

  “Want to hold her?” Beth asked.

  It would be rude to say no, so I nodded and lifted my arms awkwardly. I wasn’t good with the whole holding-babies thing, even after they weren’t newborns and could easily hold their heads up. I just never knew what to do with them once I had them in my hands. Like, should I rock them? Bounce them up and down? And dear God, what was I supposed to say to them?

  A second later, the little bundle of Origin was in my hands, with big, purple-colored eyes fixed right on mine, and I seriously hoped the kid wasn’t reading my thoughts and understanding any of what I was thinking.

  Because I was a little concerned about accidentally dropping her.

  As I lifted little Ashley closer to my chest, she was quick to grab hold of two of my fingers and squeeze. Hard. I laughed. “Wow. She’s got a grip on her.”

  “She’s pretty strong.” Dawson smiled as Beth sat beside him on the couch. “Just the other day, she threw her teddy from the living room clear into the kitchen.”

  “Damn,” Archer murmured.

  “Maybe she can be a softball player,” Dee suggested.

  Beth’s laugh was light and surprisingly carefree. “If she gets any stronger, I’m afraid she’s going to throw something through a wall.”

  “Well, that would be awkward,” I said to Ashley, who just giggled in response. Her gaze flickered over my shoulder, and I could feel Daemon drawing closer. Her stare was serious, curious as she studied him. “I’m not sure she likes you.”

  He laughed. “Everyone likes me.”

  Archer snorted.

  Daemon brushed his lips over my cheek as he circled his arms around my waist, holding me as I held Dawson and Beth’s child. Ashley reached out with one short arm, splaying her chubby fingers alongside his jaw.

  Like always, she was absolutely fascinated with touching his face.

  Maybe one day, I’d be holding our child. Who knew? But it would be a long, long time from now, like decades from now, and I wasn’t sure that day might ever come. The idea of raising a child was still something foreign to the both of us, and we preferred it that way. As Daemon’s arms tightened around my waist, I knew we’d be happy if it was just the two of us, or three of us. But I was really hoping that the third member of our family would turn out to be a puppy or a kitten. Babies seemed like a lot of work.

  Ashley’s gaze trailed back to mine, and as I cooed and smiled at her, her little bow-shaped lips parted in a big grin and the dark pupils in the center of her eyes suddenly lightened, turning a brilliant shade of white.

  “She’s special,” Daemon murmured.

  That she was.

  “You’re still more special,” he whispered into my ear, and I laughed as I leaned back into his embrace.

  I looked up, my gaze traveling over the faces of those sitting in the room. Dee. Archer. Dawson. Beth. And then I found myself staring into Ashley’s glowing eyes. She’d fina
lly stopped feeling up Daemon’s face and rested her head under my chin, making little murmuring noises as she appeared to soak everything in like a sponge.