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Eyes dark enough to steal souls. Skin pale enough to match bone. The messy black waves of his hair become living shadows whenever he moves. With a jawline as sharp as a scythe, I’m surprised he hasn’t taken to wearing a tattered hood and gotten some good branding out of his simply phenomenal genes.
The ebony pools of his gaze pierce me, and my heart thumps, skipping an excited beat.
He swears, the single coarse word half-muttered, half-sighed.
“Is that a—” Rowan swears again. “—snake?”
I beam. “This is Cupcake.”
Rowan’s eye twitches, and he grumbles a dry, “What?”
“Cupcake the snake.” Chip snorts, pointing. “She liked that it rhymed.”
My smile ices over as I stand. “Chip, please don’t interrupt me right now.”
Lace chuckles as she strides to Chip’s side, grabs his hand, and pulls him to his feet. While standing, he’s an entire inch taller than her with twice the body mass, even though both of them are built like tanks. “Let’s not piss off the bossette, ’kay? You only have so many fingers.” She cups his chin, drawing him close as she whispers, “And I happen to like ’em right where they are.”
Heat slathers itself across Chip’s cheeks as Lace escorts him out of my room.
Ugh.
Soulmates.
My eyes roll as I approach Rowan and let gentility ease back into my expression. “Pardon the distraction, pet. They’re insufferable in an adorable way. You get used to it.”
Rowan tests the rough ropes binding his wrists to the armrests and growls deep in his throat, like an angry beast. Discovering that the binds won’t give, he lets his eyes close. “Well, get on with it.”
“It?” I inquire.
“I don’t have all day.”
My brow arches. “It’s past midnight.”
He lets his head loll against the back of the chair he barely fits in and fills his broad chest with air. The ropes tied around his midsection strain as he locks his attention on me. “Well then, I don’t have all night.”
I drop myself into his lap, and he flinches, biceps tensing against his binds.
He smells…good. Familiar.
Like metal and money. Leather and luxury.
I don’t know what Cupcake can sense as she scents the air with her tongue and moves toward one of Rowan’s strong arms, but, to me, it’s almost like we’ve been cut from the same cloth.
“What are you doing in my lap?” he grates.
“Appeasing my impulses.” I cross my legs and peruse the pure baffle rioting in him. It is entirely too much fun watching people squirm. The bigger and more powerful they are, the sweeter their distress tastes. I push a lock of hair behind my ear. “We’ve got a problem, you and I.”
His throat bobs. “Is the problem that you’re sitting on me?”
I skate my fingers across his knuckles, grasp his pinkie, and bend it backward. “Snarky.”
“Thanks,” he grits.
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
His eyes narrow. “Then why did it sound like one, princess?”
There’s that thrill again, skating down my spine as though it has any right… My smile stretches as I release his finger.
