Omens (The Dark in You #6) - Suzanne Wright Page 0,5
Keenan looked back at the table on which she was dancing. Oh, she’d gathered quite a crowd. And now he needed to end this shit fast.
Keenan made his way across the large space, never once moving his eyes from her. He couldn’t move his eyes from her. Every captivating twitch of her hips and delightful jiggle of her breasts was like a stroke to his cock. And probably to the dick of every man watching her – the very thought made a vein in his temple throb.
He shouldered his way through the catcalling crowd and moved to stand in front of her table. It took her a few moments to notice him. Did she stop dancing? No. She flashed him a sultry, wicked smile that he felt in his balls.
“Don Juan, how’s it going?”
Don Juan? Keenan sighed. “Come on, time for you to go home.”
“But I’m getting jiggy with—Hey!” Khloé pouted when he lifted and set her on the floor. “Dude, you are such a Debbie Downer. I was—”
“Seconds away from stripping off your clothes,” he finished. “No, don’t even deny it.”
“Why? You deny you’re an alcoholic with a gargantuan dick.”
He briefly closed his eyes. He wouldn’t lose it. He wouldn’t. “Just get your purse so we can leave.”
It should have been simple for him, Knox, and the other sentinels to move along four drunk women. It wasn’t. Harper and Khloé fled to the restroom, saying they were desperate to pee. Devon started frantically searching for her jacket, despite Tanner’s insistence that she hadn’t brought one. Raini asked them to leave her to sleep in the booth, claiming she’d only “slow them down.”
Finally, they all got the fuck out of the bar and headed down the “strip.” Most of the bars, clubs, casinos, and restaurants had no front wall, allowing people to see what was going on inside the venues. There was mostly a lot of drinking, dancing, eating, and brawling.
A quick upward elevator ride later, they’d ascended to the basement of a popular nightclub that Knox had built to disguise the entrance of the Underground from humans.
Outside, Levi escorted Knox and Harper to their Bentley while Tanner took Devon—who was barely awake—straight to his Audi.
Keenan ushered Khloé and Raini toward his car. The women lived reasonably close to each other, so it made sense for him to give them both a ride. Taking a drunk Khloé anywhere was never an easy feat, but he liked to be sure she got home safely.
Having ushered the two females into the vehicle, he closed the rear passenger door, hopped into the front seat, and drove to north Las Vegas. That was when Khloé’s idea of “fun” began.
She drew satanic-looking symbols on Raini’s face with red lipstick. She sang Afroman’s “Because I Got High” in a Smurf-like voice. She asked Keenan to take her to an Amish community so she could “see some Amish dudes—they might be cute.” When he refused, she proclaimed him an Amish cockblocker.
He growled. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Long ago.” Khloé tilted her head. “I miss it sometimes.”
Certifiable. The woman was a certifiable nutcase.
Finally, they arrived at Raini’s house. Only when the succubus was safely inside with the front door locked behind her did Keenan then drive Khloé home.
As he steered her up the path with his hand on her back, he sighed. “Could you stop singing ‘Amish Paradise’?”
“You gotta love Weird Al Yankovic,” she said. “Hey, why do you think humans sterilize lethal injections?”
“I don’t know.” He plucked her keys out of her clutch, unlocked the front door, and then shepherded her inside.
“Farewell, Don Juan.” She mule-kicked the door, almost slamming it in his face. He whipped up his hand, caught it before it could close, and shoved it open.
“You forgot this.” Returning her keys to her clutch, he tossed it at her feet just as she sat on the hallway bench. “Lock up behind me.”
She didn’t respond, preoccupied with trying to remove her shoes. Honestly, it hurt to watch her awkwardly fumble with the ankle straps. Sighing, Keenan stepped inside and closed the door. He crouched in front of her and gently batted her hands away. “I’ll do it.”
This close, he had no choice but to breathe in her scent. She smelled like marshmallows and honeysuckle, edible and far too fucking tempting.
He carefully worked to undo the left shoe-strap. His fingers grazed her warm, petal-soft skin, and he almost pulled back as a shot of static electricity surged through him. It was sudden. Irrepressible. Jarring.