Page 51 of Penance

I lick my lips, my hand moving up to his face, fingers cupping his cheek. My thumb wiping away the smear of red lipstick at the corner of his mouth. I gnaw on my bottom lip. Leaning back into Hux, tilting my head, watching Kacey’s heated gaze strip me bare. His mind’s eye bending me over the bar, rutting into me over and over until he forces me to come on his cock.

“I’m good,” I smile breathlessly.

He beams in response, Huxley’s grip on my hips tugs me into his chest, his arms banding around my front, crossing over my chest protectively as I settle back into him.

“Four pints of Camden Hells, when you’re ready, Gina,” Kacey calls flirtatiously over the bar.

The inked, blue-haired barmaid nodding in response.

A minute later four pints are slid before us. I lean across the bar, the thumping bass from below pounding through my bloodstream.

“Gina!” I yell over the music as she turns to walk away.

She glances back at me over her shoulder, I wave a fifty at her.

“Eight Zombie Brains, and a bottle of The Kraken too, please!”

Her lips tilt up at one corner, she nods, turning away and returning with eight tall shot glasses. A generous serving of peach schnapps goes in, a squirt of crème de menthe, the green mixing with the clear. Irish cream poured over the back of a teaspoon topping up the glass and then a quick splash of grenadine for the red colour and sweetness. I grin as I slide her the fifty, my eyes locked on the ugly drinks that look exactly like gross little brains.

“Urr, I thought we were having a quiet drink, Darlin’?” Huxley laughs, a nervous bite of energy in his tone.

“Don’t remember saying that,” I shrug truthfully. “Come on, let’s find Mr Grumpy and make him neck these drinks back. Might put some sort of expression on that miserable fuckin’ face.”

I spin out of Huxley’s hold. Grabbing a pint and leaving my men to work out the rest as I find my way to the booth Maddox is occupying. Placing the pint down on the cherry wood table, sliding my arse onto the bench seat opposite him. Placing two fingers on the cold glass, I slide it across the table, planting it before the despondent devil. His turquoise orbs flicker between me and the beer suspiciously, making me grin wide.

“D’you spit in it or somethin’?” he grunts, a scowl firmly set in place.

I fight my smile growing wider, savagely biting into my cheek, I cock my head.

“Peace offering,” I shrug.

My jacket slipping off my good shoulder, tugging the huge t-shirt with it and exposing my skin. Max raises a brow at my honesty. His eyes tracking the raw bite mark Kacey gave me in my shoulder before his gaze snaps back up to meet mine. He picks up the pint, bringing the glass to his plump lips, condensation rolling over his fingers as his eyes stay on mine. He tips it back, parting his lips, his throat working down the chilled liquid. His Adam’s apple bobbing in the pale column of his throat. His hand tattooed withmegripping the glass tightly as little drops of condensation drip to the warm red wood of the table. I imagine leaning forward, lapping the water from his thorn woven fingers. Twirling my tongue around his digits, sucking them into my mouth, but I don’t. Instead, I smirk as he exhales, satisfied from his refreshing beer, placing it back down onto the table.

“Didn’t say I didn’t spit it in, though,” I shrug again.

My jacket sliding off the other shoulder, dropping onto the bench seat with a soft thud.

“You’re such a bitch,” he growls lowly, meaning every word, his eyes scorching every inch of my visible skin, and I laugh.

“I know,” I tease, a smirk threatening his lips at my agreement.

His blue eyes twinkle as they lock on mine, creasing at the outer corners as he suppresses his real smile. His harsh, square jaw flexing. The historical pull between us is undeniable as heat soars through my veins. At the same time a cold shiver racks me, conflictingly sending goosebumps erupting out all over my flesh. I swallow, my breath hitching as he places his large hand down on the table. I watch him as his fingers flex, hesitation riding him hard as he overthinks what he’s doing.

“I’m sorry, Lala, for earlier,” he says earnestly.

His deep, silk voice caressing my very bones. The sound stroking my insides into a frenzy, my attention drawn to his lips then his eyes.

“I forgive you,” I say on instinct, the words whooshing from me without so much as a conscious thought.

My teeth chew away anxiously at my bottom lip as he watches me. He sighs, running his hand through his thick head of hair. The raven-black strands harsh against his pale skin. Blue and green veins just visible beneath the inked skin as his knuckles fist, tugging at the roots. His elbow dropping to the table, he reaches across, the movement smooth and confident. The rough pad of his thumb gently swipes across my mouth, tugging my gnawed lip free from between my nibbling teeth.

“Don’t do that,” he rasps, his gaze locked on where his thumb caresses my lip.

His inked fingers sliding over my jaw, encasing my face in his strong hold. My breath stills in my chest. The tip of my tongue cautiously sliding through my teeth, lazily rolling over his thumb, tasting the salt of his skin. His grip strengthening on my face, I feel my core tighten, my lungs screaming to be released but I’m completely consumed by his touch. Fingers rough against my face, his turquoise gaze setting a fire alight inside of me, my demon preening and purring under her devil’s unwavering attention.

“Lala,” Max breathes, my body leaning fully into his touch like it just can’t help itself. My eyelids fluttering as he cups my face like I belong to him, “I-”

“Fuck me, Darlin’. Was all this really necessary?” Huxley complains, suddenly appearing at the end of the booth, cutting Max off, my attention snapping up to him sharply.

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