Omens (The Dark in You #6) - Suzanne Wright Page 0,95
at one time, but those feelings just … died. She killed them. I look at her, and I feel nothing. My demon has no time or patience for her. The fucked-up thing about me is that I can shut people out so easily if they betray or hurt me. It’s like a switch gets flipped, and it numbs whatever I’m feeling.”
It sounded like a self-protective measure to her. The thought that he’d subconsciously developed one just about broke her heart. Wanting to lighten the mood, she asked, “I didn’t flip that switch even once, despite my best efforts to rile you?”
The corner of his mouth hitched up. “You push plenty of my buttons, but never that one. You managed to work your way under my skin—it didn’t matter how hard I fought it; you made a place for yourself there without even trying. I was determined to find a way under yours.”
“You found it,” she admitted in a whisper.
His eyes flared, and then he smiled. “I know. It’s a good thing, because it makes us even.” He smoothed his hand down her belly, over her navel, and cupped her pussy. “All mine.” He thrust a finger inside her and groaned. “I can feel my come in you.”
She licked her lips as he began to fuck her with his finger. “You’re gonna get me all hot and bothered if you keep that up.”
“Good. I want you again.”
“I’ve got to get ready for work.”
“I won’t let you be late.” Nipping and kissing her neck, he kept on pumping his finger inside her, building the tension, dragging her into a realm of pure sensation where she lost all sense of time and—
Her phone rang, snapping her out of the moment. It had slipped out of her hand and was resting on the covers.
Stilling his talented finger, Keenan picked up the cell and said, “It’s Teague; you should answer it. He’ll be worried if you don’t.” He swiped his thumb across the screen and then handed her the phone.
She took it and said—well, croaked, “Hello?”
“Why didn’t you text me back?” Teague demanded.
“I wasn’t ignoring you; I just needed a minute.”
“You took more than a minute. I panicked, thinking something might have happened to you.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m just kind of in the middle of something.” She widened her eyes at Keenan when he began pumping his finger inside her again. Stop, she mouthed, but he didn’t.
“What are you doing that’s more important than replying to your anchor’s message?” sniped Teague.
“Um … you don’t really want to know.” She glared at Keenan and mouthed, Seriously, stop.
Keenan withdrew his finger ever so slowly, but then he rolled her onto her back and slid down her body. Oh, fuck.
“Why wouldn’t I want to know?” asked Teague.
She almost gasped as Keenan’s swiped his tongue through her folds. She gripped his hair and tugged, but he didn’t move away. He lavished attention on her clit and folds with that blessed tongue.
“Khloé, answer me,” said Teague. “What’s going on?”
Keenan looked at her, his eyes twinkling. “Don’t forget to share our news with him, baby.” Then he went back to toying with her clit.
“Did I just hear the incubus?” asked Teague—as a hellbeast, his hearing was very acute. “What does he mean by ‘news’? What news, Khloé?”
Her hips bucked when Keenan suckled on her clit. Her eyes almost rolled back into her head. “Um, well … can we talk about this later?”
“No, I want to know now. What. News?”
A phantom tongue stabbed inside her. She gasped, arching, and the phone fell out of her hand.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Feeling thoroughly claimed from the inside out, Khloé walked into Urban Ink. She was never late for work, so it was no surprise that the girls sent her a few raised brows. No clients had arrived yet, thankfully.
Before she could say anything, Keenan spun her to face him and took her mouth. His lips moved soft and slow against hers. The kiss was deep and languid and lazy, and it just about melted her.
Pliant against him, she fisted the sides of his tee as she kissed him back. Her inner demon practically purred, arching into the proprietary way he touched her. He swept one hand down her back to settle on the curve of her spine just above her butt—an unmistakable display of pure masculine possession.
Pulling back, he caught her face in his hands and just looked at her for a few moments, his eyes all soft and warm. His crooked