Rhapsodic
Page 49

 Laura Thalassa

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I’m backing up, and one of the Bargainer’s hands has dropped to my thigh, exposed by the high slits of my dress. His fingers move up and down the skin, up and down.
My back bumps into the wall. Des cages me in, holding me hostage with his body. My lips part, and Des’s tongue sweeps inside my mouth, claiming mine.
His hand moves to my breast, and I arch into him, my breath leaving me.
“Gods, Callie,” he rasps, “the wait … nearly unendurable …”
Des’s wings materialize, spreading out and closing over the wall around me. While I kiss him, I begin to run my fingertips over them.
He groans, leaning into my touch. “Feels too good.”
He slips a hand beneath my shirt, and palms a breast, making really hot noises into my mouth as he acquaints himself with it.
My knees go weak at his touch, and he slips a leg between them, holding me up.
My skin begins to glow. I want to cry, this feels so right. Every one of his touches has felt right since the moment we met.
“Truth or dare?” he whispers.
Do I even care at this point?
“Truth,” I murmur against his lips, refusing to give into my baser impulses.
He pulls away from the kiss long enough to glance down at my swollen lips, a hungry look in his eye. “What did you miss the most about me while I was gone?” he asks.
I have to breathe several times to collect myself. His question is like cold water dousing a flame.
His magic encircles me, forcing the answer out. “Everything. I missed literally everything about you while you were gone.”
Des stares at me, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. His hand slips out from beneath my shirt, and his knuckles stroke my cheek. “You don’t know what your words do to me.”
“I wish I did.” All this giving on my end, all of this taking on his. This isn’t what healthy relationships are made of.
He runs his fingers down my arms. “Stay, and I will tell you.”
What I would give for that! To know exactly how he feels for me. I almost fall for it, just as I have everything else about this man. I’m about to start nodding when I remember.
Des is a fairy, a trickster. He collects secrets for a living, he doesn’t give them up. And he’s never been open to me in the past. He’s not going to start tonight.
I made a promise to myself after Des left my life, a promise to be independent. To not allow men like him to destroy my world. And now the very man who forced me to make that promise wants to burrow his way under my skin and into my heart once more.
I’d be the worst sort of person if I broke that promise at the first sign of temptation.
I run my hands through my hair. What am I doing? Really, what am I doing? I search the ground, as though it holds the answers. Then, letting my hands fall to my sides, I push past him.
It’s been a long fucking day. I want my comfy PJs, a bowl of cereal, and some trashy TV I can fall asleep to.
In front of me, the door to the guestroom slams shut.
… But apparently what I want isn’t going to be all that easy to get.
I turn, exasperated, only to yelp.
The Bargainer crowds me, looking like he’s about to rain retribution down on my ass.
“Don’t go,” he says. Even though he looks mad, his words are soft.
That in and of itself makes me hesitate.
So close to giving in.
“Why, Des?” My eyes move over his face. I can still taste him on my lips. “Why do you want me to stay so badly?”
A muscle in his jaw feathers. There are a hundred plausible lies he can feed me, but he doesn’t voice a single one.
I wait. And wait.
His answer never comes.
I sigh and turn around, heading to the door. The air thickens, the static electricity of it raising the hairs on my arm. That’s my biggest cue that Des is displeased. I’m practically suffocating on his power.
When I glance back again, his wings are out. They keep flaring and retracting.
Not displeased, I correct, out of control. He’s about to lose his shit.
Half of me thinks he won’t let me go. And a large, twisted part of me wouldn’t entirely mind that.
Instead, the heaviness in the air dissipates, and his wings fold tight to his back.
“Fine, cherub. I’ll take you home.”
Once we touch down in my backyard, Des checks the perimeter of my house, then my rooms, a manic look in his eye.
I’m still too shocked by my surroundings to do much more than stare. I forgot I had a grown werewolf trapped on my property. My place is in tatters.
As the Bargainer moves through my house, his magic mends the worst of the damage. Shredded walls are fixed, my smashed table snaps back into place, the splintered wood fitting itself back together like a jigsaw puzzle. Shattered windows seal themselves back together.
Des comes into the living room, looking agitated, his towering frame full of pent up energy. “Everything’s clear,” he reports, running a hand through his hair. “There were two Politia officers parked down the street, but I sent them off. You should be safe for another day.”
A day is all I need to hunt down Eli’s furry ass and then rip him a new one.
“Thank you,” I say, motioning vaguely around me towards the damage he fixed, and you know, scaring off the supernatural po-po, who’d cart me off to jail the first chance they got. It’s still surreal to think I’m currently on the Wanted List.
The Bargainer hesitates, fighting to hold his tongue. I know he doesn’t want me to be here.