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Hades blinked at me. Once. Twice. Three times. Then my wine was plucked from my grasp and slammed down on my kitchen counter before Hades’s arms yanked my body to his. I didn’t have a moment, not even a second to process what was going on. He was kissing me. Kissing the fuck out of me. Months, a fucking lifetime of need poured into one kiss. It was an out-of-body experience, except I was very fucking aware of every single cell in my body, every single limb, every nerve ending.
“This is happenin’,” he growled, his mouth against mine, hands pushing the skirt of my dress up to my waist so he could palm my bare ass. “I can’t control it anymore, Freya. Can’t control myself. This is fuckin’ happenin’.”
I harshly sucked in air, breathing in everything that was him. My body was pins and needles, electric shocks, an inferno.
Why was I fighting him again?
“I can’t wait for your pussy to clench around my cock,” Hades murmured, his soft lips at my ear, a hand pulling at my hair.
Oh, I was fighting him because I was fucking insane.
Yeah.
No more fighting.
It was at that moment, that exact moment, the doorbell rang. The fucking doorbell.
“I do not care if that is Dolly Parton herself, finally coming to her senses and deciding to a duet with me like I asked her to when I was eleven years old,” I hissed.
Hades’s eyes flared then he kissed me once more, deeply, with infatuation. “I’ll get rid of whoever the fuck it is and kill them if they don’t get the message.”
When he turned to leave, I grabbed his hand, forcing him to pause and turn. “If it is Dolly, make sure you don’t actually kill her. The world really does still need her.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, then he smirked. Smirked. That might’ve been the most attractive thing I’d seen up close. Or from afar. Or ever.
“Okay, baby.”
I nodded, hoping that I wasn’t showing exactly what it did to me, hearing him call me baby.
I stood in the middle of the room, watching him walk away, watching the grim reaper on his back ripple slightly with his movements. As much as he wore the fuck out of that cut, I could not wait to see him out of it. The entire time I’d known him, he’d worn that thing. Even though he’d been ‘living here’ for over a month, I had yet to catch him just out of the shower or in workout gear, and I had really tried my darndest. I had come to the conclusion that he must’ve slept in that thing. If he ever slept at all.
It dawned on me then, hearing the low murmurings coming from the front door, that I was going to sleep with Hades. Well, not tonight. I did not plan on sleeping a fucking wink. We were going to have sex. I should’ve been utilizing this time by using breath spray, spritzing perfume, fixing my hair, aiming to look effortlessly desirable.
But no. I’d just stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily, waiting for Hades to come back to me.
Like an idiot.
The door slammed, my mouth suddenly going dry as motorcycle boots thumped on my hardwood floors. Why didn’t I get a glass of water? My palms were suddenly sweaty, and my heart started to pound in my chest.
Why was I nervous? Oh yeah, because I’d been waiting for this since the moment I laid eyes on this guy.
This guy, who appeared to be a lot more pissed off than he had been moments ago. The smirk was nowhere to be seen.
“I’ve got to go,” Hades announced.
I stared at him, my chest still rising and falling rapidly. “You’ve got to go?” I repeated, my voice breathy and needy but also with an edge. He had been driving me insane for weeks, and finally—finally—when I was about to get the relief I needed, he had to go?
No fucking way.
His face was blank, but I noticed his hands were fisted at his sides so that the veins in his forearms were chiseled from the sinewy muscle. That was the only sign that this was pissing him off even a little.
That was not enough for me.
“Club business,” he ground out. “Got a prospect outside. I’m leavin’ a weapon on the kitchen counter. You go to bed, you take it with you.” His eyes traversed over my body with a hunger that left goosebumps in their wake and had me sure he was going say “fuck club business”, cross the distance between us, rip my clothes off and fuck me right here on the floor.
I was ready to stake my life and my purse collection on that.
But he stayed where he was.
“I’m hopin’ this isn’t gonna take long,” he raked a hand through his onyx locks. “If it does and I’m gone until after you go to bed, you’re not to go into your bedside drawer, you’re not to make yourself come. The next time you come is going to be around my cock.”
