“Meg can’t hear us from here,” said Knox. “She’ll be busy in the kitchen for a while.”
Yeah, Keenan could hear dishware clattering and water running from a faucet. “Khloé and I agreed it would be a one-time thing.”
“For a person who’s finally had the very thing they’ve wanted for years, you don’t seem happy about it. Is your demon pushing you for a repeat? You usually only wear that ‘don’t speak to me’ expression when your demon’s riding you about something. You said it liked her just fine. Was that an understatement?”
It was more than a damn understatement. The demon wanted a lot more than just a repeat. It had been in a foul mood ever since Keenan left Khloé’s home in the early hours of this morning, and it had gotten progressively worse throughout the day. The entity wanted to be at her side—she amused and entertained it, giving it a break from the relentless boredom that plagued all demons.
When Keenan had heard that Enoch had struck again, a fury like he’d never felt had torn through his system, just as it had coursed through his demon. They both wanted to track down the son of a bitch and kill him with their bare hands. They also wanted to yell at Khloé for not calling out to them for aid.
Yes, Keenan understood why she hadn’t. He wouldn’t have expected her to call out to Larkin or Levi, so it wasn’t fair of Keenan to expect her to contact him. Nonetheless, he was pissed. And that same illogical anger hummed through his demon.
He’d purposely stayed away from her until later on, not trusting that he wouldn’t chew a metaphorical chunk out of her ass—that wouldn’t get him anywhere with Khloé. It wouldn’t make her talk to him, and it certainly wouldn’t help him convince her to contact him directly in the future if Enoch made another move.
By the time he’d seen her at the studio’s closing time, he’d calmed down enough that he could talk without grinding his teeth. His demon? Not so much. So Keenan had held back on talking with her, giving his demon’s foul mood the time to ease.
Considering what happened between them in the early hours of that morning, Keenan had expected her to act a little differently around him. Not awkward—that wasn’t in her nature—but different … if for no other reason than he’d seen her naked. Plus, in his experience, a lot of women felt unnecessary shame after a one-night stand.
But Khloé had been her normal self, as if nothing had happened between them, as if it wasn’t a blip on her radar. Maybe he should have been relieved that there was no weirdness, but he wasn’t. Because it fucking rankled that she could just push what had happened to the back of her mind when he wasn’t able to do it.
He’d fed himself a bunch of bullshit when he’d pinned her against her hallway wall—he’d lied to himself that the draw he felt toward her would disappear the moment she was no longer forbidden fruit; that taking her just once would be enough to burn out what was between them. He’d known, known, that all he’d want afterward was more. But he’d reached for what he craved anyway.
Could he have stopped himself? Yes. Probably. Maybe.
In any case, he hadn’t wanted to stop. And now, well, he was fucked. He couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful she’d looked beneath him, accepting the hard fucking he gave her.
Usually, no matter how good the sex had been, he always felt a niggle of dissatisfaction after a one-night stand. Part of him felt … empty. He couldn’t quite explain it.
There had been no such feeling of emptiness when he’d collapsed over Khloé, panting and shaking with aftershocks. He’d felt truly and utterly sated. In truth, sex had never been that good for him before.
But then, he wasn’t exactly emotionally detached from Khloé, was he? Which was why it had been dangerous to succumb to what he wanted, but he’d done it anyway. He couldn’t get the taste or feel of her out of his mind.
Realizing that Knox was waiting for an answer, Keenan sighed and said, “My demon’s giving me trouble, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” The entity snorted, the little shit.
“Are you sure? Because if it wanted Khloé anywhere near as badly as you did, it won’t so easily back down and give her up. Our demons can be quite obsessive. If it decides to fight you, you’ll be in for a rough time.”
“It’s fought me on things before. It always subsided eventually.”
Knox hummed and then set down his glass. “Would you care to tell me why you haven’t touched a drop of alcohol for over a week?”
“No.”
The Prime’s mouth twitched. “Thought not. But it doesn’t take a genius to work out that it had something to do with Khloé. You were proving to her that you aren’t an alcoholic. She wanted proof of that before she allowed you in her bed?”
Sighing again, Keenan drummed his fingertips on the smooth table. “No. I proposed a wager.” He relayed all the details, adding, “Naturally, I won.”
“Naturally. Which, of course, you knew would happen. And I’ll bet you also knew that you’d find it next to impossible to stop at feeding from her. You were tempting fate.”
“Maybe.”
“I’m not judging you for any of this, Keenan. The only person who saw harm in you making a move on Khloé was you. If you don’t want anything more with her, it’d be wise to keep it at a one-night stand, though, given that your demon is at risk of becoming attached to her.”
Keenan felt his brow crease. “It’s highly possessive of her. Wants to collect her. But it hasn’t developed an attachment to her, and I can’t envision it ever doing so. It doesn’t form connections easily. My demon’s got bigger trust issues than I have. The only people it truly trusts are you, Harper, and the other sentinels.”
“Well, at least it’s learned to trust.” Knox’s brows inched up. “It never had such faith in Thea?”
“No.” And it had urged Keenan not to trust her either, but he hadn’t listened.
“While we’re on the subject of Thea, I called her and set up a meeting for tomorrow. I’ve made it clear that I’ll give her one chance to be straight with me. If she was another breed of demon, I’d delve into her mind and dig out the truth for myself. But the only thing a person finds when invading a nightmare’s mind is their own personal nightmare. As such, I’d like you to be at the meeting. You know her better than I do. You’ll have a better shot at sensing if she’s lying.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that—I bought her bullshit too many times.”
“Because you wanted her to be telling the truth. Not because she’d fooled you.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. In any case, if you need me to be at the meeting, I’ll be there.” But he wasn’t looking forward to it. Keenan rubbed at his forehead. “I don’t suppose you’ve had any luck locating Enoch?”
“None whatsoever. You’re still angry that Khloé didn’t inform you of Enoch’s attack herself?”
“Yes. I know it’s irrational, but I’m still pissed. From what I heard, she didn’t call out to anyone—not even someone from her own lair—until the threat had passed.”
Knox’s brow creased. “I don’t think Khloé is quite as vulnerable to attack as you seem to think. If she was, Jolene would have her very closely guarded at all times. Harper isn’t pushing for that to happen, so I can only assume that Khloé can defend herself quite well. She survived the attack, didn’t she?”
“That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t benefit from some added protection.”
“I realize that, although you’re unlikely to admit it aloud, Khloé matters to you. I realize that you want to play some part in protecting her. But you’ve made the choice not to be in her life, Keenan. You can’t have it both ways.
“Of course, you can speak to Jolene about it. She may allow you to play bodyguard for Khloé for a while. If so, Larkin can temporarily take over guarding Asher. But it’s highly unlikely that Jolene will agree. In her situation, I wouldn’t bring in an outsider to protect someone within my lair. I’d consider it my responsibility to keep them safe, and I wouldn’t appreciate the insinuation that I wasn�
��t able to do so.”
“I’m not saying Jolene can’t protect Khloé—”
“Then leave it be.”
“And if it was Harper? Would you just leave it be?”
“Harper’s my mate and my anchor, Keenan. To you, Khloé’s quite simply the relative and employee of one of your Primes. You won’t let her be anything else.”
*
Settled on her sofa with a tub of ice-cream, Khloé dialed Teague’s number. Jolene was right; she couldn’t let him find out about Enoch’s bullshit from someone else.
Her anchor answered after only a few rings. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite girl in the world.”
She snickered. “You’re so full of it, Sullivan.” Smiling, her demon rolled its eyes. It adored the hellhorse on a purely platonic level. “That’s a whole lot of noise in the background.” It was a wonder she could hear him. “Where are you?”
“A horse racing stadium. It’s nothing like hellhorse racing, but it’s still fun to watch. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”
She twisted her mouth. “Well …”
“Khloé, what is it?”
She scratched the back of her head. “I just wanted to tell you that, um … deadpeoplebrokeintomyhomelastnight.”
“Dead people what?”
She quickly brought him up to speed on everything. “Motherfucking fucker,” he spat. “Tell me Jolene at least has a clue where this Enoch bastard is hiding.”
“She’s working on finding out.”
He bit out another curse. “You shouldn’t have kept this from me, Khloé. Yeah, I get why you did it, but I still don’t like it. And I absolutely loathe that I’ve been having a blast, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re dealing with this bullshit. You wouldn’t like it either if it was the other way around.”
No, she wouldn’t, so she didn’t try defending herself.
He took a long breath. “I’ll be back in Vegas as soon as I can.”
“You don’t need to end your trip early—”
“You think I’ll stay here while you have a threat hanging over you? Not happening, gorgeous. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“But—”
“Don’t ‘but’ me, Khloé. I’m pissed enough as it is. You will not talk me out of heading home early, so give it up. I’ll see you some time tomorrow. In the meantime, be careful.”
She sighed, knowing better than to argue with the stubborn bastard. Plus, she’d be glad to see him. “Will do. Have a safe trip.”
He mumbled something and then rang off.
Snorting, Khloé tossed her phone on the coffee table. She sank further into the sofa, chose a movie on the streaming service she’d subscribed to, and pressed the “play” button on her remote. She’d watched no more than ten minutes of the movie when there was a knock at her front door.
Frowning, she stabbed her spoon into the ice-cream, put the tub on the table, and then headed to the hallway. She peered through the peephole of the front door, and her stomach took a nosedive. Keenan.
Her demon slinked to the surface, curious as to why he’d come. It wasn’t necessarily pleased to see him, though; he’d delivered a kick to its ego when he walked out on them early this morning.
Khloé suspected he was there to piss and moan that she hadn’t told him about Enoch’s second attack personally. Ugh, she did not need this right now. She was tired and wanted a little “me” time.
“I know you’re there,” he said.
She silently cursed. It was tempting to ignore him, but that stank of cowardice. Khloé was no coward.
Blanking her expression, she pulled open the door. The sheer, sexual impact of him struck her hard, just as it always did. His eyes snared hers, bold and unflinching. He made her think of a predator refusing to lose sight of his prey.
She truly didn’t have a sliver of a clue why she found it such a turn-on to have him look her so dead in the eye. But there was something inexplicably heady about being the focal point of such intense attention. Her demon melted every time.
Khloé didn’t avert her gaze. Didn’t stiffen. Didn’t fidget. She just stared right back at him. A familiar, irrepressible chemistry sparked to life, flickering in the air between them.
His eyes drifted over her, taking in her pigtails, printed tee, yoga pants, and bare feet—eye-fucking her as blatantly as he always did. Her nipples tightened, the traitors. What was wrong with her? She should have felt uncomfortable. Maybe even violated.
“What are you doing here?” Proud that her voice came out strong and steady, she gave herself a mental pat on the back.
“I came to see you.” Like a tank, he forged his way inside and kicked the door closed behind him. The hardwood floor creaked beneath his feet as he strolled past her.
Following him into the living room, she folded her arms as he nosed around, taking in the sight of the ice-cream tub with a flick of his brow. “Why are you here?” she asked.
He turned to face her. “We need to talk.” There was no note of demand in his tone, and he wasn’t wearing his “you’re going to give me what I want whether you like it or not” expression. He looked cool, casual, unchallenging. She didn’t trust it.
“If you’ve come here to whine that I didn’t tell you about Enoch’s latest act of fuckery, you might as well just leave,” she said, calm but firm. “I’m not going to apologize for it. I’m not going to say that I’ll contact you if it happens again. Even if I wanted your help with Enoch, the decision would still be down to Jolene.”
She fought not to tense as he fluidly stalked towards her, making her pulse skitter. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and it took everything she had not to lick her lips—especially when he towered over her, all sex and smolder. Having him this close was not good for her composure. Not good at all.
He loosely curled his fingers around one of her pigtails and then let it slide through his fist. “I haven’t come here to yell at you. The fact is, whether I like it or not, I’m not a person you’ll ever look to in a crisis. But I wish you would.” The note of sad resignation in his tone stabbed her in the chest.
“Be fair, Keenan, I’m not a person you’d ever contact while in a tricky situation.”
He gave a slow nod. “You’re right. And it isn’t fair of me to expect something of you that I wouldn’t myself do if our positions were reversed. But I worry about you. You don’t take as good a care of yourself as you do those you love. You’re not treating this as seriously as you need to.”
“I’m not?”
“No. Last night, you didn’t call out to anyone for help. Those people who broke into your home were dead, yes, but that’s what made them the perfect soldiers—they didn’t feel pain, fear, or hesitation. They just did what their master forced them to do. And he’ll send more your way—we both know that. I’d like you to promise me that you’ll call someone. Jolene, your brother, Harper, I don’t care who. I just don’t want you facing Enoch’s puppets alone.” He tugged lightly on one pigtail. “Promise me.”
She snorted. “I’m not promising you shit.” Maybe she should have been touched by his concern, but it rankled that he’d come here acting as if he cared. “You told me, in so many words, that all you wanted from me was a one-time thing. That’s fine. But you don’t get to then demand promises from me—it doesn’t work that way, Keenan. And I can’t imagine why you’d possibly be so worried when all I am to you is the cousin of your Prime, nothing more.”
Keenan’s mouth snapped shut, as if he was biting back words. But then he clipped, “You’re more. That’s the fucking problem.”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t think you’re important to me, I know that, but you are. I can’t just ignore that there’s a threat hanging over your head. I can’t. That’s not who I am.”
She snorted. “If I was really that important to you, you’d have wanted more than one night. But you don’t. You just wanted ‘some peace.’ Well, you got it.”
His eyes like burning
coals, he ate up the space between them in two strides. “Do I look like a man who’s at fucking peace to you? You can’t know how little sleep I’ve had since Enoch first hurt you. Knowing there’s a danger to you … it’s all I can think about. That’s when I’m not thinking about how much I want to be inside you again. Every goddamn train of thought in my head somehow circles back to you, no matter what. So when I say you’re important to me, it’s exactly what I mean.”
Keenan took a breath, inwardly cursing. He’d told himself that he’d remain calm, that he wouldn’t lose his temper—he always said too much when he did that. He always blurted out things that he’d prefer to hold inside him.
It wasn’t easy to keep said temper in check when his demon’s agitation fueled his. And it didn’t help that his body was in chaos—his blood was hot, his skin felt too tight, his dick was rock hard. A ferocious hunger bit and clawed at him, tempting him to steal another taste of her.
She was mere inches away from him. It would be so easy to tag her by her nape, yank her to him, and claim that mouth he’d had far too many fantasies about. So easy to strip them both naked and wrap her pigtails around his fists as he fucked her from behind.
He wasn’t so much angry that she hadn’t called out to him for help. He was angry that she wouldn’t want to—that he wasn’t someone she’d care to turn to. But that was on him, wasn’t it? Which was why he was mostly angry at himself. If he didn’t deliberately hold back from her, he might have been a person she instinctively called out to.
Knowing the little imp didn’t respond well to pressure, Keenan had resisted the urge to push her. He’d moved slow, easy, and tried coaxing her to give him what he wanted.
It hadn’t worked, which he should have anticipated. She was more stubborn than most people he knew.
“But you’re not going to act on just how ‘important’ I am to you, are you?” she asked, taking a step back, retreating.
His demon lunged for her with such strength that it caught Keenan off-guard and managed to force its way to the surface. “You should stop doing that,” it told her.
Her brow pinched. “What?”
Omens (The Dark in You Book 6) Page 11
