Page 13 of Bound to Death

He might not be wearing anything, but the raven wings inked onto his back reminded me that if last night happened, no matter how good in bed this gorgeous dude was, no matter how life-changing that sex was, he was still a stone-cold killer. Maybe even supernatural. Quite possibly a demon. That, or I hallucinated the entire night.

Oh please, oh please be drugs.

“Hope you don’t mind me using your kitchen. I figured you would be…starving after last night.”

Oh, so he told jokes now? A killer with jokes? What was this, some poorly scripted paranormal romance Netflix series? It’d better be drugs. It’d better befucking drugs.

Emily lost her shit out of the corner of my eye, making all kinds of faces to express her envy. Usually, she was the one who brought home the bad boys who looked like they made people disappear for a living, not me. My tastes were blander by comparison. Think some nerdy tech company, glasses-wearing dude who was pressured into going to the club with his overly outgoing friends, and you’d have my type down to a T.

But all I could stand there thinking was how he hadn’t been a dream. The killer—my savior—was real. Last night happened. I was nearly gang raped. Five men were torn to pieces. Shadows moved and bound me to a bed. I had the best sex of my goddamnlife. And now the man responsible for everything was in my kitchen making jokes about it.

Holy fuck.

Chapter Seven

Asha

Emily cleared her throat, and my brain was electrified back to life with the sound. “I’m sorry, I never caught your name?”she asked in a far-too-polite-to-be-Emily kind of way. Lawyer Emily.Shit.

“Thanatos,” he replied.

Lies.

“That’s…interesting.”

Lie buddies.

The wordinterestingwas Emily’s polite way of sayingfucking weird, but okayto someone she didn’t know. Clearly, she wanted to investigate more about how I, the social pariah, landed a hunk like him. From the eyes she made at me in between their back and forth, she was committed to the task.

Fuck.

“You can call me Than,” he offered, no longer smiling. No, his eyes were penetrating my thoughts, most likely doing voodoo only supernatural types could do—mind manipulation or something as equally invasive. So, I hadn’t obtained a poltergeist, just a motherfucking demon.

Fuck my life.

“Emily,” she offered in return, knocking her elbow into me.Ouch.“The best friend. Roommate. Enabler. Whichever title you’d prefer.”

I nursed my sore arm with a glare her direction. “I prefer nosy bitch, but I guess friend works, too.”

“Best,” she corrected, gesturing something vulgar when Thanatos wasn’t looking.

She’d definitely heard me last night. All those sounds. The begging. The filthy side of me I gave into because I thought it was a goddamn dream. Oh god, the shame. Could you die of shame? Might save Mr. Killer the trouble because I was mortified. Humiliated. Ready to accept the whole demon thing, but not the things I’d done because of it.

“So, you two met at the club last night, then?” Emily pried, undeterred.

I opened my mouth, but Thanatos spoke first. “We did. She was all I saw when we crossed paths. I’m sort of a…monster when it comes to a woman I like.”

The jokes, they just kept coming.

Sort of like you did last night.

I was going to Hell. I was sure of it now. Watched five men die horrible deaths—okay, deaths they indisputably deserved—but here I was, hyper-focused on the fact that I’d disintegrated into a submissive sex kitten with the demon presently cooking me eggs and talking to my best friend like none of it happened.

Emily’s squeal was barely smothered by her hand, and I eye-rolled the shameless bitch so hard that I nearly threw myself off kilter. “Maybe we shouldn’t do all this…”

“Do you have a brother? Or maybe just a very close relative with the same genetic disposition as you?” Emily asked searchingly, a little crazy in the eyes. Give her enough time and she’d be smacking her lips, ready to offer a trade—me—for one of his friends’ phone numbers. If there was a poster girl for thirsty, Emily would be it.

I smacked a hand over her mouth, glaring because I didn’t know what Mr. Killer was capable of. What if she pissed him off and he tore her to pieces? What then? Did she even know how close she was to death right now? I was basically saving her life by shutting her up.

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