More annoying, he did not look like someone who was battling the pull of an addiction. And she had to accept that he might just have been telling the truth—there was a high chance that the incubus wasn’t an alcoholic.
She was hyperconscious that if she didn’t make him cave and just have one drink, he’d be feeding from her very freaking soon. Her demon wasn’t so uncomfortable with the idea. Surprise, fucking surprise.
Sitting on the lounger, she decided she’d wait for the sun to dry her off before she applied more sunscreen. It was hot as holy hell. It wasn’t so hot that she wanted to retreat into the sun-shaded salon just off the main deck, though … despite that the sofas looked seriously comfy. Maybe later.
Raini took a sip from her glass and then placed it on the small table. “God, the air’s so hot it’s almost uncomfortable to breathe it in.”
“Reminds me of when I went to Dubai,” said Khloé. “It’s a total bummer that I was banned from ever returning. It’s not like I meant to set that building on fire.”
“But you did break into one of their bank vaults,” Raini reminded her.
“Yeah, but they don’t know that.” Khloé paused as the faint smell of meat grilling teased her nostrils. “Is it just me, or do you guys smell food cooking?”
“The crew will be prepping us dinner,” said Harper. “Not sure whether we’re eating in the dining salon or on the upper deck’s sun terrace—you’ll have to ask Knox.”
Raini peered out into the distance. “Are there sharks in these waters?”
“I don’t care as long as there aren’t dolphins,” said Harper, trying to brush away the wet hair clinging to her neck.
Raini’s mouth curved. “Not all dolphins are shape-shifting demons.”
“No, but they are twisted enough to mutilate their young, so don’t be fooled by their apparent charm.”
A breeze fluttered over Khloé’s skin, bringing with it a featherlight spray of cool ocean water and making the loose strands of hair flutter around her face. She tucked them behind her ears and lifted her face to the sun, enjoying its warmth, hoping said warmth would chase away the strange chill that had invaded her bones last night and didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Her chest still hurt from her encounter with Enoch, and that “drained” feeling hadn’t gone anywhere. But that was off-topic and not something she cared to discuss.
“Seriously, I absolutely adore this yacht,” said Khloé. “I’d totally live on it if I could.”
“Me too,” said Raini. “I wouldn’t have thought it was possible for a yacht to have a homey feel, but it does.”
Her skin reasonably dry, Khloé pulled the sunscreen from her beach bag. She squirted some lotion onto her hand and then smoothed it over her arms. Her skin prickled—not just from the heat of the sun, but from the weight of Keenan’s gaze. Yeah, she knew he was watching her. She didn’t look his way, though.
She’d deliberately annoyed him throughout their ride on the jet—snapping pictures of him with her cell phone, accidentally-on-purpose spilling her pink gin all over his designer tee, and purposely singing the wrong lyrics to his favorite songs. She didn’t know why the latter bugged him so much, but whatever worked.
Only it hadn’t worked.
He’d snarled. Growled. Cursed. He’d even tried snatching her phone. But he hadn’t reached for the bottle. Or flask.
She’d pointedly ignored him since arriving on the yacht, acting as if he wasn’t there, which always seemed to irritate him just as much as when she poked at him. She’d also noticed that he hadn’t drunk anything but soda so far.
I think we need to step up our game with Don Juan, she told Harper. The sphinx’s eyes flicked to the pool and then cut to Khloé. “Oh, I forgot to ask how your date went.”
Khloé slipped her hand beneath her bikini strap to smear sunscreen on her collarbone and shoulder. “A lady never tells.”
“But you’re no lady, so spill.”
“You did wear your little black dress, right?” asked Raini. “There’s a reason I call it your lucky dress.”
Khloé nodded. “I wore it, and it did indeed bring me luck.”
“I’m kind of bummed the guy didn’t ask me out. He’s hot.” Raini pushed her sunglasses further up the bridge of her nose. “But he obviously goes for the small and insane type.”
Khloé frowned. “I’m not that small.”
“But you are insane.”
“I find it freeing.”
Harper snickered. “I can totally believe that.”
After she was done applying sunscreen to her legs, Khloé looked at Raini. “Could you do my back again?”
“I’ll do it.”
She stiffened, because those words hadn’t come from Raini. They’d come from the person behind her. Keenan.
He was in hell. Being around Khloé while having no right to touch her was hard enough. But seeing droplets of water trickle down her delectable body—droplets he wanted to lap up with his tongue—and watching her smear lotion over her skin … fuck. There was only so much a man could take.
His cock, so full and heavy it ached, was harder than a steel fucking spike. There was no easing it. Not when her wet bikini clung to her body, accentuating her delicate curves and giving him glimpses of what he couldn’t have. He wanted to peel it from her, wanted to touch and taste and maybe even bite.
Still, Keenan might have been able to keep his distance if he hadn’t heard she’d gone on a fucking date. Black jealousy rode him hard, taunting the possessive streak that was like a live wire around Khloé Wallis.
His demon was furious. As far as it was concerned, she was theirs; no other male had the right to touch her. It wanted to hunt down the fucker who’d taken her on a date and deliver a warning that he’d never forget. It wanted to make her understand and admit who she belonged to.
Something primitive in Keenan urged him to put his hands on her and mark her in some sense with his touch—something she might not see but would feel. And so he found himself standing behind her sun lounger, offering to smooth sunscreen onto her back.
She glanced at him over her shoulder but didn’t reply.
He flicked up a taunting brow and waited, knowing she’d respond to the silent dare.
Her eyes narrowed. “All right.” Scooting forward on the lounger, she handed him the bottle. “Just don’t get it in my hair.”
She turned back to Harper, as if whatever he did next would be inconsequential. Yeah? He wasn’t buying it.
Keenan straddled the lounger, bracketing her body with his thighs. He kept just enough distance between their bodies that it wouldn’t be awkward for him to properly apply the sunscreen.
The moment his lotion-covered hands landed on her shoulders, electricity surged through him, as if he’d plugged himself into a socket. He heard her sharp intake of breath and inwardly smiled. This would be no easier for her than it would be for him.
While she carried on an inane conversation with the others, Keenan glided his hands over her, kneading and shaping. There was nothing sensual about it. It would look almost clinical to anyone who watched. But he kept his touch firm and sure; he let her feel the possessive edge to it.
She didn’t call him on it. Nor did she react when he dipped his fingers under the bikini strings or when he very lightly danced his fingertips over the sides of her breasts—as if she was determined to make him believe that she was barely aware of him. Bullshit.
He slid his mind against hers. Just under three days left to go before our wager is over. Feeling nervous yet?
Why would I feel nervous? she asked.
Stifling a smile, he set her sunscreen on the table and stood. In under seventy-two hours, I’ll be tasting you. Don’t worry, you’ll like it.
Don’t count on it. And just bear in mind that losers go to hell, you know. Oh no, wait, that’s liars.
“No!” shouted Asher, glowering at his father in the pool.
“You can’t stay in here all day,” Knox calmly told h
im, heading toward the ladder.
“Can,” insisted Asher.
“Can’t.”
“Can.”
“No. You. Can’t. Now let’s get out of the—”
Flames burst to life around Asher, who then disappeared from his father’s arms and reappeared on Khloé’s sun lounger. He pouted at her. “Daddy’s mean, Koey.”
She picked him up and cuddled him close. “Aw, dude, your daddy just wants to put more sunscreen on you so that your skin doesn’t burn.”
But his little pout didn’t go away.
Harper sighed and pulled out a bottle of kid’s sunscreen. “Come on, little man, let’s put some of this on you.”
“Koey do it,” he said, leaning into the female imp.
“Sure thing.” Khloé took the bottle and started applying the lotion. “You hungry yet?”
He shook his little head.
“Thirsty?”
He shook his head again.
Harper leaned forward. “I think you’re tired. Want a nap?”
“No,” he said, but a yawn almost cracked his jaw.
Harper held her arms. “Come on, come lie here with me.”
“No nap.”
Khloé tapped his nose. “How about you just lie here with me then and we’ll cuddle?”
“’Kay,” he easily agreed and then curled up beside her. Knox adjusted the position of the sun parasol so that it placed Asher in the shade.
Harper huffed at Khloé. “Why does he listen to you more than he does me?”
“Because I’m awesome and you’re not,” said Khloé.
Harper snorted. “If by awesome you mean ‘mentally deranged,’ yeah, you are. So I find it highly concerning that you have some kind of influence over my son.”
“Wow, that sounds like a ‘you’ problem.” Khloé slipped on her sunglasses. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have some sunbathing to do while I snuggle my dude.”
“Actually, I do mind—”
“Again, sounds like a ‘you’ problem. Good luck with that.” Khloé lay back on the lounger with a contented sigh.
Harper let out an exasperated sound. “You know what, sometimes I think the ancient incantors were onto something when they said that all imps should be strangled at birth.”
“And yet another ‘you’ problem.”
Harper shot to her feet. “I need another drink.”
CHAPTER SIX
Sitting on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other, twirling her ankle madly, Khloé flicked a look at the living room clock on the mantelpiece. 1:03am.
Two minutes. She had two minutes until Keenan arrived.
She’d spent the entire weekend driving him insane in every possible way. Which had been absolutely delightful, and she would sincerely treasure the memories. But no matter what she did or how pissed he got, the bastard stuck to soda and coffee. He’d looked so close to cracking when she casually talked of her brand-new vibrator and its various speeds and settings, but he’d managed to hold out. Awkward asshole.
After he’d given her and Raini a ride home from the airport earlier, he’d telepathically told Khloé to expect him at exactly 1:05am. She hadn’t responded with anything other than a nonchalant shrug, but she was feeling far from blasé about this.
She’d tried distracting herself for hours—unpacking her suitcase, tackling her laundry, cleaning a kitchen that did not need cleaning. But her thoughts kept circling back to the none too small matter that, hey, Keenan would be here soon.
Shit, how had she gotten herself into this situation?
The same way she always got herself into sticky situations—she’d jumped without thinking. Which was usually fun. But now … huh, so this was what regret felt like. She happened to agree with her father—it carried the metaphorical stench of weakness.
She shook off the pointless emotion. It wouldn’t really be so bad to have an incubus feed from her, would it? Such a thing was allegedly very enjoyable, and Khloé liked to enjoy herself. Ergo, she could freaking relax.
Well, she’d find that a lot easier if the incubus in question wasn’t Keenan—a guy she’d wanted for years; a guy she couldn’t help but measure others against; a guy who didn’t want her as much as she did him or he’d have made it clear by now.
The knock on the front door made Khloé jump.
It’s not a big deal, she told herself. The whole thing would take, what, three minutes? Maybe even less. Then he’d be gone, and she’d be floating on a post-orgasm cloud. That wouldn’t be a bad way to end her weekend … or to start a new week, as it were, considering it was technically Monday morning.
Standing, she smoothed out the wrinkles in her sundress and padded into the hallway on bare feet. Taking in a deep breath, she pulled open the front door. And there he stood, tall and still. His hooded blue eyes locked on hers, full of so much heat and promise that her poor hormones went into a frenzy. And, of course, her body lit up like a Christmas tree.
Khloé stepped back, allowing him to enter. He prowled inside, exuding so much self-assurance and intense sexual energy she was surprised she didn’t feel dizzy with it.
When she closed the door, he turned to face her. His eyes dropped to the pulse that was beating far too fast in her neck. That blue gaze then snapped back to hers and drifted over her face, searching.
He took a step toward her, closing the space between them. “I won’t force you, Khloé. If you want to back out, say so now.”
And she knew there’d be no recriminations from him; that he’d accept her “no” and never mention it ever again. Strangely, that was what encouraged her to lift her chin a notch and say, “I don’t break my word.” It was quite possibly her only redeeming quality.
The air chilled as his demon surfaced, making his eyes bleed to black. “Then we will take what you owe us,” it said in its usual emotionless tone.
She licked her lips. “Bring it.”
Its eyes glimmered with what could have been amusement, and then it subsided. Towering over her, Keenan breezed his finger along her jawline. “You sure?”
“Just get it over with. The movie I want to watch starts soon—I ain’t missing it.” But he just kept on staring, and her hormones just kept on having a nervous breakdown.
Sexual tension pulsed between them like a heartbeat, and an agonizing suspense filled the air. She licked her lips. “Keenan—” Her heart thudded as a spicy, mouthwatering, aphrodisiac scent assaulted her senses. Here we go.
Like last time, the air turned humid and warm and stifling. Her lips parted as an unbearable heat whipped through her body so fast that she almost swayed. And then she was at the mercy of the carnal hunger that rocked her entire being.
She staggered backwards until she met the wall. Her nerve-endings turned hypersensitive. Her nipples peaked and throbbed. Her breasts swelled and ached. Her clit pulsed and tingled.
She couldn’t help but moan. Her pussy … It was like there was a pressure inside her. Not filling her, stretching her open, making her keenly conscious of just how empty she was. Her inner walls spasmed, desperate to grip something, but there was nothing there.
A warm hand collared her throat, and Keenan’s energy—so dark, so sensual—poured into her, filling her from head to toe. She slapped her palms on the wall behind her, scratching it a little with her nails.
An image flashed in her mind of him on his knees in front of her, his face in her pussy, her dress bunched around her waist. And she knew he’d planted the image there.
His mouth hovered over hers as he breathed in each moan and breath she released. But it was the sexual energy emanating from her that he was drinking in. The whole time, his eyes didn’t release hers. Not even for a second. There was so much raw hunger there it made her shiver.
Phantom sensations swept over her—fingers pinching her nipples, hands cupping her breasts, a tongue lashing her clit, teeth biting her inner thigh. She groaned and whimpered and arched into him. She also cursed him through gritted teeth, because h
e didn’t deliver any of those phantom touches to her pussy. A pussy that kept on aching and spasming.
God, she was so wet. And so damn close to coming. But he was controlling her orgasm, wasn’t he? She wouldn’t be able to come until he let her.
Bastard.
Another image flashed in her mind. An image of him fucking her right there against the wall, his teeth in her neck, his fingers digging into the thighs she’d wrapped around him.
“Ready to come?” he asked against her mouth, his lips brushing hers.
“Yes.” A thick shaft plunged inside her. It wasn’t real, she knew that, but it felt so fucking good. And it hit her sweet spot just right as it drove into her hard and fast and—
Then she was coming.
She sucked in a breath as pure pleasure ripped through her body, fragmenting her, devastating her, tearing a scream out of her throat.
Feeling sapped of strength, she could only sag against the wall, her chest burning with every ragged breath. She blinked at Keenan. “Well, that was—”
He slammed his mouth on hers. Hot and demanding, it ate at her own—licking, tasting, nipping. Sparks flared. Chemicals raced. Skilled hands slid over her, clutching and shaping. And she knew things were about to spiral out of control.
Keenan kissed her hard and deep, unable to get enough. Every flick of her tongue dragged him deeper under her spell. His thoughts scattered. His body tightened. His blood thickened. His heart pounded like a drum.
He hadn’t thought his dick could get any harder. He’d been wrong. He was full and heavy to the point of pain.
Watching her come, tasting the sweet and delectable energy she gave off, all but shredded the leash he held over himself. But he’d known it would, hadn’t he? He’d come here hoping she’d make his control slip—he could admit that to himself now.
He needed to feel her skin against his. Needed to taste and mark. Needed to answer the oppressive, relentless hunger before he went insane with it.
It was always going to happen. The carnal, primitive need that taunted them both … you couldn’t just ignore something like that. You had no choice but to explore it; no choice but to let it play out if you ever wanted to be free of it.
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