Chaya stood back and gave her a head to toe. “You look awesome.”
Eve looked down at herself. “My fat thighs are out for the world to see.”
“We have pretty much the same build. Are you saying my thighs look fat?” Those exotic catlike eyes stared up at her, unblinking.
“No, you look amazing. And I…”
“Look hot.”
Did she? She didn’t know. Dressing like this wasn’t really her thing, but she could handle it for a night. It was kind of like playing dress-up, like being someone else. A welcome prospect after everything that had happened.
“What goes on out there? How do you handle being around it every night?” Eve asked while Chaya sat her down to apply a thick coat of charcoal liner around her eyes and fluffed her hair.
She shrugged and planted a hand on her hip. “You get used to it after a while, though I’ve definitely worn out a few vibrators. I’m on a first-name basis with the woman who owns the adults only store around the corner.”
They both burst out laughing. It felt good to laugh. That hard exterior Chaya had dropped while they’d played dress-up, and Eve started to think that maybe they could be friends. A little thrill ran through her. She could have friends. There were people like her that understood, that wouldn’t be scared off by what she was inadvertently sending out.
People she wouldn’t have to hide who she was from. Chaya knew, she understood.
A noise came from the door and they both spun around. Brent stood there, expression dark, controlled. The same way he’d looked that first night when she’d seen him across the club, before he’d seen her and Lazarus. This wasn’t the Brent who laughed at cheesy movies with her and ate pizza from the box. No, this Brent was the businessman, the sex demon who knew how to wield his power. A force to be reckoned with.
He took her in. “You look good.”
“Thanks, I guess. Not too much?”
He shook his head and the corner of his mouth lifted. “No, you’ll fit right in.” His gaze slid to Chaya and the barely there grin slid from his face. “I need you behind the bar now. The place is filling up.”
Chaya’s shoulders stiffened before she turned to Eve. “I’ll see you out there.” She stormed out.
Eve stared up at Brent. “What’s up with you two?”
He crossed his arms over his wide chest. “Nothing.”
Yeah, right.
“You ready?” he asked.
“Yep. All set.”
“You remember what I told you?”
“Yes.”
“Humor me.”
“If I feel worried or if someone creeps me out, find you or one of the guys then go to the apartment.”
He dipped his chin. “The wards are stronger up there. It’s the safest place for you if you feel your block dropping.” He shook his head. “I don’t like this, Eve. And Laz will have my balls if anything happens to you.”
“I doubt that very much.” She tugged at her skirt, which kept creeping higher. “I’m just clearing tables and delivering drinks, right? What could go wrong? Plus, you’re saving my sanity. That has to count for something.”
He didn’t look convinced. “Just stay alert.”
“Will do.” She rubbed her hands together. “Time I got to work.” She started toward to door.
“And, Eve?”
“Yeah?”
“Chaya was right. You look hot.” He winked then led her out to the club.
A couple of hours into her shift, and she well and truly had the swing of things.
The music thumped so low she felt it in her belly, and the lights pulsed along with the bass. It confused the senses, enticed. The surreal sensation made her feel like she was someone else, free to do whatever she wanted.
It wasn’t hard to see why this place was so full.
The club had been busy since she walked onto the floor. The heady atmosphere was electric and led its occupants to sin. Made you crave it.
Lazarus had walked into the club an hour ago and Eve was doing her best to ignore him. He hadn’t approached her, but Eve had felt his presence the minute he arrived. She didn’t know how, but she knew his gaze had never once left her, followed her wherever she went. She felt it burning a path across her skin.
She felt greedy after being starved of his attention for so long. Alive, sexy. Turned on.
Chaya placed two more drinks on her tray. “Over there. The corner,” she shouted over the music.
“Okay.” Eve weaved her way through the crowd, not shying away from the hands that brushed her skin as she moved by or the offers whispered into her ear. She took a hedonistic kind of pleasure from it, all of it. For some reason, knowing Lazarus was watching and saw how others reacted to her, desired her, tried to touch her, turned her on even more.
The lights were dim, but with every flash of muted red light she got a glimpse of glistening skin and tangled limbs. She stopped by the table and unloaded the drinks for the couple sitting there. Beside them a woman lay on the padded vinyl bench seat, legs spread wide, her skirt shoved up around her hips. The guy she was with had his head between her thighs. He feasted on her, worshiped her body with long sensuous strokes. The sheer carnality of the act caused the ache between her thighs to intensify. God, she wanted that.
She couldn’t look away. How would it feel to do something like that with everyone watching? Heat washed over her. She was so turned on by the sight a moan broke past her lips.
The woman turned to Eve, a smile spread across her glossy red lips. “Join us?”
For a split second she imagined what it would be like to say yes. To let go and just feel.
What am I thinking?
She stumbled back a step. “No…I, ah, sorry.” Spinning around, she shoved through the crowd blocking her path and headed to the back of the building and the glowing fire exit sign. She needed fresh air. All the raging hormones in this place were getting to her. She grabbed the handle and shoved the door open. Cool night air hit her skin, and she sucked down a lungful.
But before she could take a step outside, someone grabbed her arm and yanked her back.
Eve squealed and spun around.
Lazarus stared down at her, eyes flashing fire. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
“I—I just needed some air.”
He cursed and dragged her back into the club. “Have you forgotten what could be waiting for you out there?”
Oh God. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” In this place she couldn’t think straight.
Lazarus pulled her through the club and didn’t stop until they reached Brent’s office. He threw the door open without knocking and strode inside.
Brent was sitting on the couch in the corner, a woman crouched in front of him, his fingers fisting her hair while she worked his cock with eager, hungry sucks.
“I take it Eve’s finished for the night?” he said without looking at her.
Okay, that was way more than she’d wanted to see of her new friend, and didn’t resist when Lazarus growled and shoved her behind him, blocking her view. “Put your fucking dick away.”
Brent laughed, dark and rough. “Can you kick my ass later? I’m a little busy at the moment.”
“Count on it.” Lazarus led her back out, slammed the door, and dragged her toward the stairs.
When they reached their apartment, he pushed her inside, pulling her through the living room and into the bathroom. The light flicked on and he slammed the door shut, throwing out a hand, using his powers to lock it. The shower came on next.
“What are you doing?”
His expression was dark, intent. “Washing the stench of that place off you. This”—he motioned to her clothes, her face—“isn’t you.”
She tried to unlock the door. It wouldn’t budge. “How the hell would you know?”
“Get in the shower,” he growled.
She took a step back. “No.”
His eyes narrowed. “Get in the fucking shower, Eve.”
Her palms grew sweaty and her pulse sped up. “Make me.” She didn’t know why, but she wanted to push him, to see him lose control. She wanted him to want her again, to stop ignoring her.
His nostrils flared and he took a step toward her. “Is that what you want?”
Eve nodded. “Yes.”
What on earth am I doing?
Lazarus didn’t hesitate. He toed off his boots, yanked his shirt over his head, revealing all that beautiful smooth skin and thick slabs of muscle, then closed the gap between them and started stripping her. She didn’t fight it—why would she?
“I’ve been watching you,” he said against her ear. “Watching you strut around in that little skirt, showing off these perfect tits.” He cupped her breast, squeezing the sensitive flesh, making her gasp.
Oh God, she wanted him.
“Did you like it?” he growled.
“W-what?” She couldn’t think straight.
His other hand came up under her skirt, and without warning, he pushed her panties aside and slid two fingers through her drenched pussy. She cried out and he cursed. “Watching people fuck, Eve. Did you like it?”
She moaned and gripped his biceps, her head dropping forward against his chest.
“Tell me,” he said.
More. She needed more.
And like she’d said it out loud, he pushed a finger inside her, going deep, hitting the sensitive bundle of nerves there. She sobbed. “Y-yes.”
“I saw them touch you, putting their filthy fucking hands on you when you walked by. You like that, too?”
“Yes.” What is wrong with me?
He took hold of her chin, tilting her head back, making her look at him. Fury lined his hard features, held his big body rigid, and though it was all kinds of screwed up, she loved that he might actually be jealous, that on some messed-up level he might actually care.
He didn’t let up, just continued to fuck her with his fingers in a controlled way that made her want to scream. “Did you want to join that couple? Did you want that male between your thighs, tongue buried in this tight, hot little pussy?”
“No,” she gasped, his crude words heightening her already out-of-control desire.
“I can feel how turned on it made you, how wet you got from watching that male fuck his female with his tongue. He did this to you. You want him. Fucking admit it.”
“No…I don’t. I…”
“Say it.” His tone was low and harsh and he tightened his grip on her.
“Yes, I liked it,” she cried.
He hissed, lips peeling back from his teeth, eyes flickering to ebony.
“But it wasn’t him I wanted,” she said, close, so close to coming apart.
He ground his erection against her hip. “Who? Who do you want?” he asked, voice guttural.
Gripping his shoulders, she rode his hand. “You. I want you.” Then she was coming.
He didn’t stop. His fingers continued to move inside her, ringing every last tremor from her body before Lazarus stripped her out of her remaining clothes and carried her to the shower. He climbed in with her, shoved her against the wall, and dropped to his knees. She gasped when he buried his face between her thighs.
Her fingers thrust into his hair, holding on, pulling him closer as he lapped at her, devoured her with deep, hungry stokes of his tongue. He pressed her into the wall, lifting one of her legs over his shoulder, opening her wide for him. Water sluiced over his bare back and drenched his dark hair. Eve couldn’t help but fist the glossy strands tighter, close to losing control all over again.
He looked up at her, eyes flashing dark then light, glazed with lust. She loved it, loved that she’d done that to him. That she’d made him so out of control, so crazy for her.
He fucked her with his tongue until she was a writhing, sobbing mess then he wrapped his firm lips around her clit and sucked, sending her over the edge. She didn’t hold back—couldn’t—and held him to her, grinding against his mouth, lost in sensation. He growled against her, not stopping until she sagged against the wall.
When he pulled back suddenly a few seconds later, she opened her eyes.
Lazarus stood against the tile wall, still in his jeans, the denim drenched and clinging to his hips and thighs. His chest pumped and he gasped out harsh breaths.
Eve took a step toward him.
“Don’t.” He shook his head. “You can’t touch me. Not now. I’m barely hanging on. I’ll take what I want. To hell with the consequences.”
“Take it,” she whispered. “I don’t care what the consequences are.” She wanted it, whatever it was.
“You don’t understand.” He pressed back into the wall, his face a mask of pain and longing.
Every muscle strained, every vein and tendon stood out on his tanned skin. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was magnificent, beautiful. A groan slipped past his lips and he reached down to grip his straining cock, squeezing his hard flesh through the wet denim.
She licked her lips. “Lazarus.” His name came out as a plea. She had to see him, all of him.
His hands shook as he popped the button and slid down the zip. His heavy cock sprang free, thick and swollen. A constant stream of pre-come leaked from the tiny slit, running down the shaft, and her mouth watered to taste him. She wanted to drop to her knees and take him into her mouth. “Let me—”
He shook his head, eyes wild, slightly unfocused. “Stay back, Eve. I mean it.”
He fisted himself and began to stroke, eyes never leaving her. He leaned heavily on the wall, didn’t speak, didn’t look away. “Ah, fuck.” His fist tightened and his strokes increased in pace.
Eve had never seen anything like it, never seen a more beautiful sight in her life. She slid her hand down her body and slipped her fingers between her folds, massaging her clit, too turned on not to. Lazarus watched her every move, and the sound that left him was full of anguish and need and spurred her on. She cupped her breast with the other hand and squeezed like he had earlier. He moaned low then hissed through his clenched teeth. He was wild, untamed. The solid slabs of muscle in his massive thighs locked up tight.
“What have you done to me?” He groaned and grew impossibly long and thick before he finally cried out her name and came hard. Thick creamy ropes spurted from him, washing down the drain.
Eve leaned against the wall and followed him, coming for the third time against her own fingers.
Lazarus was there before her legs gave out, supporting her weight. He turned off the shower, wrapped her in a towel, and carried her to her room. His hands were rough and economical as he dried her off and squeezed the water from her hair.
He pulled back the covers and put her into bed.
Moments later, Eve drifted into a restless sleep.
Chapter 18
Eve woke to sounds coming from the small kitchen and the smell of bacon cooking.
Her stomach rumbled.
Shoving back the covers, she tugged on a pair of shorts and a tank and left her room. Things had gotten crazy the night before. Intense. The way Lazarus had been, the things he’d said.
“You can’t touch me. Not now. I’m barely hanging on. I’ll take what I want. To hell with the consequences.”
What did that mean? She was done waiting for answers.
Her belly flipped when she saw him. He was standing at the counter in only a pair of jeans, a mountain of bacon and eggs piled on plates in front of him.
“Morning,” she said, voice still husky from having to yell over loud music last night.
He spun around, his gaze moving over her before coming back to her eyes. His chest expanded sharply.
He licked his lips and cleared his throat. “I made breakfast. You hungry?”
“Ravenous.”
Lazarus handed her a plate, and they ate for a while in companionable silence.
“Thanks for doing this.”
He dipped his chin. “I thought that maybe we could talk this morning.”
Somehow she finished her breakfast and carried her plate to the kitchen. Lazarus followed her in, putting his plate in the sink.
Eve turned to him, looking up at his strong face, down to that wide chest. She lifted her hand and placed it on the burn there. It had a pattern to it, almost like someone had branded him. She’d been wondering what it was since she first saw it.
“How did you get this?” she asked, tracing it gently.
He looked down at her, nostrils flaring. “We were given them when our training was complete. The brand is supposed to prevent us from entering Hell, from being corrupted.”
“Corrupted?” Eve stared up at Lazarus, trying and failing to control the pounding of her heart.
Lazarus lifted his hand to hers, covering it, curling his fingers around hers. “Let’s sit down.”
Her belly flipped at his serious tone. He led her into the small living room and Eve moved to the couch and sat…and waited.
Lazarus paced around in front of her for a few minutes, making her even more nervous.
Finally, he stopped and faced her. “There are things you need to know, about me, about us…about you.”
“Okay,” she said, clutching her hands together.
His jaw tightened. “It has…it’s become obvious that being with you…it balances me. It gives me the strength to keep control over my demon, control I’ve been losing over the last few weeks.”
“Being with me? You mean like last night?”
He dipped his chin.
“The mate thing?” she said, pulse picking up speed.
He swallowed, throat working. “Yes.”
She wished she knew how to wipe away the anguish she saw on his face. “Why are you losing control?”
He sat on the couch beside her, rubbing his palms on his jean-covered thighs. “A very long time ago, demons discovered a way to leave their realm and began moving among mankind. The angels were clueless, only learning about it after a demi-demon, new to his powers, accidentally wiped out his entire village. The demons were using human females to carry and raise their offspring, and when they were old enough to be of use, they would reclaim them to use as weapons to gain control and power on Earth.”
Knight's Redemption (Knights of Hell Book 1) Page 17
