Page 22 of The Devil

Did Jet Blackstone just admit he wants to fuck me? I mean, I knew from that erection. Can’t fake that. But did he really just say all that?

“Holler if you need anything,” he tosses over his shoulder as he walks out the door.

“Jet?” I call out just before he closes it behind him.

He turns around, eyebrows raised.

“Thank you. For tonight.” Shit, I’m going to cry. I cry when people are nice to me because I’m a fucking idiot.

He must sense it because he just nods and walks out, closing the door behind him, and the empty space he leaves behind feels lonelier than anything I’ve ever felt in my life.

The tears come streaming as soon as the door clicks shut and I know I’m in trouble. I’m in so much trouble. I think I have been for a long time with Jet, but now, there’s no doubt.

6

AMAL

Isoak forever. Until the water starts to cool down and the window becomes a mirror as the night turns black.

Climbing out of the tub, I grab a thick, soft towel and wrap it around myself. The ends of my hair are wet but it’s short enough I manage to keep it out of the water. I pull the plug to let the water drain, making my way to the vanity.

The lighting in here is muted and warm. I take in my reflection. The steam has smeared my eyeliner and frizzed my hair. Jet’s electric toothbrush stands on a charger, a bottle of aftershave beside it. Of course, I open it and inhale deeply, knowing from the bubble bath that I already smell like him.

Opening the drawers, I look through the contents. Usual stuff. Aspirin, razors, a comb, floss and toothpaste. In the cabinet beneath I find mouth wash and use that in lieu of brushing my teeth.

When I open the bedroom door, I see the fire is on and the room is cozy. He’s left a T-shirt on the bed. I dry off and pull it on. It’s huge on me. I like it. Maybe I’ll keep it. Sneak it into my purse before I have to go.

But I’m not thinking about going now. I have tonight.

Standing still, I take in the quiet of the place. The stillness. It’s like no one is left on the whole of the earth. I feel myself relaxing because I feel safe here. Safe in this cave-like house, this home carved into the side of an impenetrable mountain.

Safe with Jet in the other room. The Devil, they call him. Tonight, he’s my devil.

How did I think even for a minute that he’d hurt me? That he’d drive me out here to what? Kill me? Not Jet. No way. Whether or not he can keep his promise if Cassian decrees I am to marry I don’t know, but again, not thinking about that tonight. I’m in his bedroom and I’m not going to waste it.

This is where he sleeps. It seems so intimate to know this about him. To see his safe space. Does a man like Jet Blackstone need a safe space too? He seems too much in control, too confident, too powerful.

I walk over to the side of the bed that’s obviously his and sit down. Picking up his pillow, I smooth it out then bring it to my nose and inhale, picking up his lingering scent. Realizing how creepy that is I set it back on the bed and lay down, pulling the thick comforter over myself. It’s cozy and warm and the way the rock wall curves in over the bed makes me feel almost cocooned. Safe.

Is this what he feels when he lays down?

Turning onto my side, I notice the stack of books he uses as a nightstand. There’s one on the floor lying face down. I pick it up and read the title.

The Bloody Chamber.

I don’t get to read as much as I used to. Between schoolwork and just everything that’s been going on, I can’t concentrate enough. I miss it, though. I forgot how relaxing I found it to sit with a good romance. So, I settle in, pull the duvet up to my chin and open to the first page. I’m surprised to find it’s the story of Bluebeard and his many wives. I knew the title sounded familiar, but I’d never read it, only seen a few badly made movies.

Out of curiosity I reach out to turn the stack of books so I can read the spines and chuckle.

Because Jethro Blackstone reads dark romance.

Well, this is unexpected.

Bubble baths and dark romance. Color me surprised.

Only a few pages in, my eyes feel heavy. I set the book aside and turn off the bedside lamp so the only light in the otherwise pitch-black room is that of the low fire glowing amber. I burrow deeper into Jet’s bed, breathe deeply of his scent and imagine him lying down to sleep right here. I wonder if he wears anything to bed or if he sleeps naked.

Naked, I bet.