Page 53 of A Kiss From Death
His sinister but seductive voice cascades down from above. “Clean your spit from my boot,” he says casually.
Is he serious? Reluctantly, I reach a shaky hand forward to wipe my spit away, but I stop when I hear him tsk.
“With your tongue,Nightmare.” He smirks down at me, and fuck me, if I’m not turned on and pissed off at the same time. I hate giving up control and feeling beneath someone, but I also feelpowerful knelt before him, as if I’m just as in control. I can tell by the way his chest heaves in time with mine that he’s holding on by a thread, and I’m the one doing it to him.
Knowing this is my only option, I lean forward and ever so slowly lick the tip of his boot all the way to the laces. It’s gritty and dirty, but surprisingly, my stomach also flips with excitement that I nervously stash away to ponder another time.
I look up and watch as he quickly unclenches his fists. “Again, you missed a spot. Eyes on me this time,” he commands, though his words have turned breathless.
Narrowing my eyes, I lean down, holding firm eye contact as I swipe my tongue across his boot while simultaneously flipping him off. His eyes close briefly, and a low growl escapes his throat. He’s crumbling before me, and all I’ve done is lick his shoe.
Leaning back up, I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him, making my mood known. I may be feeling things I’m currently confused about, but that doesn’t overpower the feeling of being thoroughly done with his little game. He towers over me from down here, and I wonder what it would be like to curl up in bed with him. Would he take up the entire bed? Would it feel like I was drowning in his embrace? Would he be firm from his muscles, or would I melt into his body like a dream?
It’s like he knows I’m thinking about him, because he wears the smuggest smile now, looking proud of himself. The last thing I needed was make him think he can control me, but I keep reminding myself I had good cause for bending to his will—though I’m not sure what my excuse will be the next time I crumble at his demands.
“I hate you!” I seethe up at him.
He chuckles again as his eyes turn heated, both obsidian in the dim hallway. He takes a step forward, his feet touching my knees now, and lifts my chin up with his thumb and pointer finger. “Idon’t think you hate me at all, Nyxi.” I let out a small whimper but keep my face masked in anger.
I shake my head no, but he doesn’t buy it. Looking back and forth between my eyes, he speaks straight into my soul. “I think you hate that youdon’thate me at all. I think you might evenlikeme.”
I go to spit on his shoe again, but he shakes his head at me in warning. I dig my nails into my palms to stop myself from punching him straight in the dick. I stand, fed up at this point, but he steps closer, backing me against the wall. I’m trapped, our chests brushing with each deep breath. I can’t think straight when his towering presence makes it hard to form complete sentences.
“I’m not a liar, and I promise, I would never waste a single precious second of my life thinking aboutyou.” I’m not convinced with the words coming out of my mouth at this point, but I hope they come across strong enough to land the jab.
He has the audacity to laugh at my response, like he knows I’m pulling shit out of my ass. He leans forward and scoops up one of my curls, slowly tucking it behind my ear as he whispers, “Should I go get Winston then and settle this once and for all? Because even without his Fib abilities, I can smell your lie for the shit it is.”
He’s so close, I can smell his overpowering smoke and sandalwood scent wrapping around me. Fuck him and his giant ego that has me questioning my sanity and morals. Just a couple inches separate our lips, and if I wanted to, I could easily find out exactly how his full lips would taste on mine. Instead, I draw my knee up, slamming it into his balls, giving him a personal relationship with my signature move.
He doubles over but chuckles, knowing he’s won this round. “Open the fucking door, Hade.” I growl the words, leaving no room for question. “I held up my end of the bargain, and now, it’s your turn.”
He nods while holding his balls protectively and shuffles past me, wrapping his hand around the handle as shadows slither down his arm to push the door open. The damn thing doesn’t burn his hand off like it did mine, though I secretly wish it did.
He strides in, gesturing me inside with his arm, and then plops down into a weathered chair sitting in the center. I guess the permanent indent must be from him, meaning he spends a decent amount of time here. He leans back in the chair, crossing his legs and propping them up on the coffee table. He pulls a book up that was wedged between the side of the chair and settles in to read.
I stand frozen just inside the door, not sure what to do now. Looking over the top of his book, he gestures with his arm. “Browse away, little hellion.”
Looking around, I take in the tall shelves packed with all types of books. It doesn’t look like they are organized in any particular order, which only makes it harder. I’m inside, though, and that’s a small win for today.
The thick odor of aged paper permeates the air, making me relax. There’s something about the scent of bound paper that comforts me. Each of the bookshelves differ in size, height, and color, creating a collage that oddly makes sense. I can tell which shelves are used more often, while others carry a thick coat of dust on them. I assume the untouched shelves might be the best start to my investigation.
Walking to the back left corner of the room, I approach the first dusty shelf and crouch down, starting at the bottom. The spines hold different titles ranging from agriculture to health remedies. I make my way up to the top shelf, but nothing seems to peak my interest.
I move to the next shelf over, bending down to start my search again. There must be thousands of books in here, so I don’t get my hopes up; I can at least make a dent today. I continue down theline, finding books about different recorded sicknesses, species of poisonous plants, and how to forge weapons.
Every so often, I catch Hade watching me from over the top of his book, but I try not to acknowledge him. I can feel his eyes burning into the back of my head without even looking at him. His overbearing presence is thick and palpable.
He catches me staring and winks at me over his book just as something bumps into the back of my head.Ow!Before I can turn to see what hit me, my eyes snag on a book floating through the air and into Hade’s waiting hand.
“Really, is your aim so bad, you couldn’t avoid hitting theoneperson inside this giant room?” I massage the back of my head to dull the tingling. It didn’t hurt that bad, but he doesn’t need to know that. “And how did you even do that?”
“Trust me, my aim is superb ineverythingI do. I never miss.” He smirks. “You were looking a little tired, so I thought I would help you out. You’re welcome. As for the floating book, I feel like that is self-explanatory.Magic.”
He starts reading his new book, dismissing me, but I scoff in frustration. “Use your words, Nyxi,” he snarks without looking up at me.
Planting my hand on my hip, I glare at him. “No shit it’s magic. I want to knowhowit works. If you could please be so kind as to explain,sir!” I grit out, pushing his buttons to their max. This game of push and pull is like an addiction, even with how hard I try to stop myself from playing.
I have his attention now. Closing his book, he plants his feet back on the ground and sits straight. “Each book in here has been spelled. If you know the title of the book and think it in your head, it will come to you. It’s as simple as that.”
