“I don’t think this place caters to my kind,” Trevor murmured, casting a casual glance to dressed-for-success individuals scattered all through the room.
Danica grinned, showing teeth. “What, gorgeous rockstars with attitudes? Of course they do, babe. Now, calm the fuck down and order up—I picked the corner booth for a reason. I’ve got a clear view of the entire place.” His shoulders didn’t go down in the slightest, and a frown creased Danica’s forehead. She let out an exhale. “Okay, switch seats with me.”
Trevor lifted his brow.
“Before you protest,” she cut him off, “it’s clear you don’t do well with your back unprotected. I’ll survive. So, switch with me.” She wasn’t a fan herself, but she’d come to trust Trevor’s twitchiness in regards to Alberich. Her vigilance had just begun, whereas his had been bred and perfected over the years.
She marched over to his seat, which he’d evacuated fast for the booth, and she settled into the wire-rimmed chair, mustard yellow cushions accenting the beige around this place.
“My fault for underestimating your perception,” Trevor said, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to follow. Somehow, the hatred in his eyes had already dimmed, the acidity in his tone lessened, and while it didn’t slice across her skin like a bare blade, the intensity in his gaze threatened to burrow deeper. She’d take the lashings any day.
A waitress swung by, and Danica ordered a club sandwich post-haste, the metric ton of coffee she’d drank eating away at her stomach. Trevor stuck with a burger, which she’d seen him order medium-well at least half of the times they went out. She was paid to notice the details, but with him it felt personal.
“So how long’s it just been you and your sister?” Trevor asked before tipping back the glass of water.
Danica arched a brow. “My folks are still kicking. Climbing their way up the social hierarchy claws first.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.” The intensity in those umber eyes socked her in the gut. She’d always kept her surface conversations a moving target, but he slammed right through them with the force of a bulldozer. For some reason, the understanding laden in that gaze had her believing maybe she didn’t have to peel herself apart to explain how her upbringing brought her to trust one person alone.
The man who was once kept as a pet by Tymarch Alberich might know how she felt.
Her throat tightened, even when she plastered a fake smile on her face. “It’s always been the two of us, ever since we ditched the arranged marriages our folks set up.” Her words came out caustic even as she tried to soften them, her grin sharpening into something vicious. “I will not be bought or bartered with, by anyone.”
The slow nod he gave in response caused something inside to curl tight and release, like she’d been wrung out. The waitress swung by with laden plates, his burger dripping with grease and cheese onto the plate while her club sandwich was pretty as a picture. She wasn’t hungry for any of that anymore.
Trevor was getting too close. She needed to get this man out of her system before she wandered any deeper into this maze. “Don’t know about you, but I’m in the mood for something else,” she murmured, levelling him with her gaze. Danica didn’t hesitate in taking whatever short-term thrills could sate her. In the transient life she led, she needed to grasp every opportunity when it arrived.
Trevor’s brows drew together, but she didn’t miss the way his sensuous mouth quirked. “I think you’re forgetting I still don’t trust you.”
Danica stood from her seat and offered her hand. “Trust doesn’t have a thing to do with this, gorgeous. I’m not going to lie about the attraction there—and based on the hungry looks you’ve been passing my way, it’s mutual. So, hate me if you want, but I think we both need to indulge before we drive ourselves to distraction.”
Trevor looked at her for a moment, and Danica’s heart lodged in her throat.
She’d been rejected before—this shouldn’t matter. Except, somehow, it did.
His fingers laced through hers, and Trevor rose from his seat. The weight of his palm against hers settled the churning in her stomach. The heat blazing in his eyes scorched away any other thoughts, and her core clenched at the liquid desire there. She tightened her grip in his to take the first steps forward.
Time to erase distractions.
Chapter Seven
Trevor had fucked his way through a sea of groupies before, and he took new flings into the RV on most show nights. Yet, he’d never felt this thrumming in his chest that plucked at him from the moment Danica extended her hand. They’d slipped, unnoticed, into one of the swanky bathrooms in this joint, a private stall.
He wasn’t blind. Once they’d plunged past the superficial thorns and deeper into the woods, she’d pulled the one avoidance technique left in her arsenal. However, she’d been telling the truth about one thing—the attraction had become flash powder between them, waiting for the match to drop. And the sooner they dealt with this lust, the sooner he could return to loathing her with a clear mind.
She let go of his hand when they entered the bathroom, a fluorescent overhead blinking on.
He shut the door behind him with an audible click.
The moment he turned around, Danica’s mouth met his. She tasted honey sweet with the sharp sting of coffee, and he slipped his palms around her chin, cupping her cheeks to draw her closer. He’d been imagining how those pert lips would feel from the day they’d met, but the reality was far, far, better, a silken glide he could easily become addicted to. He kissed her again and again, backing away to tease, baiting her to lunge in for more.
His hands traveled lower, around her slim waist, her slender hips. Her graceful curves were mesmerizing. Even with the fabric separating him from her soft as a whisper skin, her heat and the way her body curved against his stoked his hunger. He’d risen to attention the moment she’d taken his hand, and by the time she slammed into him inside the stall, his cock was stiff as a board.
Danica reached for his belt, but he moved her hand away.
“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it my way,” Trevor murmured against her mouth. “Think you can handle that, cher?”
“Not if you’re going to talk me to death,” Danica challenged, those green eyes flashing with heat.
A grin quirked his mouth. “I planned on putting my mouth to a different use.”
She bit her lower lip, and the way she sank against him with her arms twining around his neck was the sort of irresistible he couldn’t refuse. A moment before, she’d been all flames and steel, yet now she grew as pliable as heated honey. He could spend a lifetime trying to unravel this sheer enigma of a woman. Trevor slipped her violet skirt up her thighs, and a moment later, he shunted her panties to the black-tiled floor.
The second she kicked them off, he lifted her to the porcelain sink. Her skirt hiked, putting that gorgeous pink pussy on clear display. His cock throbbed at the sight, and he kept his palms braced on her thighs even when he sank to his knees like a monk in benediction. The coolness from the tiles seeped into the frayed holes at the knees on his shredded jeans. His fingers curled into her muscular thighs, and he spread her open wider.
Danica perched on the sink, the heels of her palms digging into the porcelain on either side of her.
He bit and sucked his way up her inner thigh, enjoying the sting of her heels scraping against his upper back. The woman splayed out before him was sheer perfection, and he planned on enjoying every second with her. When his tongue touched her clit, she let out a moan that thrummed low in her throat.
Trevor began working her clit with his mouth, slow, sensuous licks that had her arching as she threw her head back in mindless abandon. She tasted sweet and tart, and he kept returning for more. His grip tightened on her thighs, nails digging in. He devoured her, harder, faster, until her breaths came out in soft pants. The fluorescent light pounded down on them, washing out the rest of the room, but from his vantage point, she couldn’t be more gorgeous.
Every bead of sweat on her forehead was highlighted, the way her tongue darted out to trace her lush lips. Strands of her chestnut hair escaped her pin-perfect bun, the sort of disarray he’d been desperate to drive her to. Her button-down plastered to her chest, outlining those perfect tits of hers. He drove his tongue inside her, causing her breath to hitch before he licked and sucked at her swollen clit.
“Winter’s breath, Trev,” she gasped, her knuckles almost as white as the porcelain sink she gripped. Her heel dug into his shoulder, but he didn’t budge an inch even with the scrape of pain. Instead, he lapped at her faster, sucking at her clit until she clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the scream erupting from her. Her thighs tensed with the spasms of her orgasm, and she closed her eyes. Bliss drifted across her features, her mouth parting, her lashes fluttering, and her arms trembling in the wake.
He pushed himself from the cool ground to grab her hand and help her off the sink. Even her legs shook, so he kept his hands around her hips to steady her.
“Bend forward, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear.
Danica let out a low moan and turned to face the sink again, her skirt still bunched around her hips. “Already?” she murmured. “You’re a sadist.” She thrust her ass back to grind against him, causing his breath to catch in his throat.
His cock strained in his jeans, and the sight of her bare, soaking core was enough to do him in. “My job here’s not done until you’re an incoherent puddle, got that?” he responded, undoing his belt with a snick that echoed in the quiet of the room. His button flicked open, zipper ripped down, and a second later his cock was out. Danica ground against him again, this time, her bare ass against his length delivering such a pulse of desire that he bit his lip until it bled.
Danica leaned forward, gripping the sink she’d just sat upon. Her head bent down, and small strands of hair plastered against her nape. Splayed out before him like this, he could see the straps of her black bra beneath the pale, creased button-down she wore, the devastating slope of her hips, and the curve of gorgeous breasts he was dying to grip. However, the way she continued to tease him by brushing against his length had his attention front and center.
He gripped her hips tight and guided himself to her core until his tip brushed against all her slickness. The mirror in front of them reflected how she bit her lip, and the sight of standing behind her nearly sent him over the edge. Her lashes shuttered, but the glint of her seductive green eyes contained the brilliant cleverness that ensnared him from the start. Even now, while he entertained designs at control, she wrested strands back with her own wiles.
Trevor rested one hand on the small of her back and gripped her hip tight with the other as he began to slide in. Even with how drenched she was, he pushed an inch into her at a time, a tight fit. He strained at the seams, need ramming at him with an increasing intensity the deeper he sank into her. The rising pulse in his chest, his cock, begged to bury to the hilt inside her and slam into her sweet heat until they’d reached oblivion.
He sank into her the entire way at last, and a ragged gasp escaped his throat.
The way her skirt bunched around her hips, her long legs stretched in front of him, everything about Danica was straight out of his fantasies. Except someone like him might touch the flames but would never get to keep the blaze. Trevor began to move inside her, slow at first, and each time he thrust forward a soft sound escaped her throat, one he wanted to imprint in his mind forever.
As he picked up tempo, his fingers found themselves wandering to her bun. He pulled the band free, and it snapped to the ground. Her chestnut strands cascaded down her back, and he wove his fingers through them until he gripped tight. Trevor gave a gentle tug, and when a moan slipped past her lips, he yanked harder.
He thrust faster into her, a droplet of sweat tickling as it trailed down his chest. Each lunge forward had his balls tightening, bringing him closer to release. He’d been ready to blow the moment she took his hand, and the skin to skin sensation between them pushed him to the precipice.
He tugged on her silken strands and rammed into her hard enough to shake the sink she gripped. Each time he sank in, their skin slapped with a delicious sting that brought him nearer. The sight of her in the mirror dosed him with desire, her green eyes glossed with lust, and her breath coming out in short pants that fogged the surface. In this moment, the past didn’t exist between them. Fears for the future vanished from his mind. Even the ever-present thrum of paranoia faded away in the wake of the thunder building in his ears, the pressure increasing with every thrust.
She bit on her lip to muffle her cries as he rammed into her like he chased after something, faster and faster with each stroke. Her core tightened around him in the spasms of her orgasm, and that pushed him over the edge. Danica sagged forward, clutching the sink, and Trevor thrust in one more time before sweat broke out on his forehead. Bliss rolled through him in sanguine waves. He let out a shaky breath and spilled into her.
Trevor closed his eyes, savoring the release.
They stayed still for minutes, hours—time was inconsequential. Their ragged breaths cycled through the air, weaving together in their own melody. Trevor pulled himself out, moving slowly as he tested the steadiness of his legs. He hadn’t come like that in far too long, the intensity of their collision leaving him shaky in the aftermath. Her lemongrass scent drifted through, mingling with the sticky heat and the lingering sex in the air.
Danica straightened from her crouch against the sink, and she tugged her skirt down her shapely thighs. A crooked grin quirked her lips. “I’m guessing our waitress thinks we skipped out on the bill at this point.”
“That, or there’s a line forming for people who actually need to use the bathroom,” he responded with a soft smile. He zipped up his jeans and hooked his belt back into place.
Danica snatched her panties from the cold tile and tossed them in the trash. “Hey, we needed to use the bathroom too.” Her grin was infectious, and Trevor couldn’t help the amusement warming his chest. “I’ve got a clearer head already.”
He ran a hand through his hair, combing back a couple of stray strands before he straightened his shirt. Danica had composed herself, her hair coiled into a bun again, her button-down less wrinkled, and the twinkle back in her eyes, like she wasn’t just glazed from her own release.
Danica reached for the door handle but paused to glance to him. Their eyes locked, and the gravity should’ve abandoned ship. They’d gotten the quick fuck out of their system and pushed through all the desire clouding their brains. Except the glimpse of her loneliness, the brief pause of hesitation there tugged in his chest.
“Great business transaction,” she said with a wink before slipping out through the door.
Trevor didn’t follow her out, not yet.
He stared at himself in the mirror, the darkness in his eyes growing with every passing year. One of these days, he wouldn’t even know himself any more. Even as they’d fucked, Danica kept her mask tight to her chest. Maybe that’s why he kept feeling the inexorable pull toward her, the need to see her exposed and real.
If she could still be found beneath all the avoidance, all the quick grins and easy smiles, maybe there was hope for him too.
Chapter Eight
Danica spent the next few days in a blur, coordinating the Mandalay Bay show with Liz while spending as much time with Lenora as she could swing. Apart from a couple of clumsy Unseelie tails she ditched by swerving into alleys, she hadn’t been attacked.
Of course, the lack of action made her tenser than ever.
Danica tugged at a stray curl from her ponytail as her heels clicked on the pavement. Mandalay Bay gleamed down, the massive structure blackened by night and highlighted with columns of pale yellow lights. Palm trees swayed in front of the building, and the ever-present chatter of the Strip buzzed all around her. Her bag weighed heavier than normal, one of her larger purses loaded with more than the average wallet, make-u
p, and tissues arsenal.
This one held copper tools and a few platinum weapons she couldn’t touch but wouldn’t hesitate to use in a last resort situation. Hunger coiled deep in her gut, something no amount of food would slake. Any normal day, she got her fill from meetings at her Talent Agency, being able to siphon off her gifted clients while she helped build them up in the world. Operating from her laptop while on the run might keep her business afloat, but it didn’t do anything to sate her sidhe side.
She reached the entrance of Mandalay Bay, the neon towers looming over her like monolithic spires of a castle. Thousands of windows glittered across the span of the hotel and casino, a myriad of dim, bright, and lack of light. Out of all the casinos on the strip, this one contained the highest concentration of fae—not shocking, since the place was owned by Jeremy Myanmar, a well-known kelpie.
Danica sucked in a deep breath. Easy, girl. Just get in, steal Alberich’s treasure under locked guard, and get out to march up and blackmail the same man who put your life under risk. NBD. She tugged on her curl again, the skirt of the black dress she wore swishing around her thighs. She needed easy movement, which her normal business suits wouldn’t accommodate.
Danica stepped inside, the A/C prickling across her skin in contrast to the lingering heat, even at night.
Liz stood in the atrium of Mandalay Bay waiting for her. Already, she caught the greenish-blue hue of the water nymphs who strolled through, and the selkies wore their pelts over their shoulders. Not like the humans saw those details—to them, average folks strolled by, wearing everything from suits to sweats.
“Long time no see, Obiwan,” Danica called out, crossing the marble flooring between them. Feigned elegance beamed from every overwrought ceiling fixture, and the patterned tiles had been polished so hard she could see her reflection in them.
Liz tipped her fingers in a salute and strolled over, the picture of punk in her shredded black jeans, black tank top, and spiked collar.
Hypnotizing Beat Page 6
