Page 115 of House of Pain
It was the only place his father kept anything worth anything.
He would have rather poked his own eyes out and waited for the healer to grow them back without any painkillers than go to his father’s study.
But he couldn’t let Val know.
So, now he was leading the way down the other corridor to his father’s study, which was, to their surprise, unlocked.
Blaze pushed the door forwards, and they both slipped into the dark room only illuminated by the burning fireplace.
Val crossed the room to the large glass cage, which was now standing by one of the walls. She planted a hand over the glass and hissed, bringing it back to cradle it against her chest.
“Of course it’s warded,” she muttered.
All Blaze could focus on right now was standing in this wretched room that only brought pain and suffering for him since he was a child.
Never did his father invite him to his study to talk, to have a drink on one of the leather couches, like he did with so many of his business associates.
Never did he invite Blaze to come and admire his collection of rare and expensive daggers that lined the whole wall, like he did with everyone new who would come by their home.
No, Blaze only came through those heavy double doors when it was time for punishment.
When Blaze brought his wineglass to his lips again, his hand was trembling.
“Well, that’s not going to give us much,” Val said, still inspecting the chest locked under the glass dome. “These wards are as old as the fucking Inathis.”
“I bet. What, did you expect to steal it tonight?”
“What am I? Twelve?”
“Let’s go. I’m really bored.”
He turned and slipped back into the corridor. Val followed him out.
Then, her hand was on his chest, and she pushed him against a wall.
Blazelether push him against the wall.
She glared at him, a whole head and then some shorter than him, her eyes filled with hunger and promises of a good time.
Slowly, her tongue peeked through her lips, and she let it slide over her bottom lip.
“I know something that surely would help with boredom,” she whispered, her hot breath hovering over his lips.
Blaze blinked.
Val took his silence as a yes and lowered herself on her knees, her hands already eagerly working his belt.
And then it hit him, out of the blue. The want, theneedto see someone else kneeling in front of him instead of Val.
His throat went dry, and he averted his eyes, his hand gripping Val’s wrists before she could unbutton his pants.
“I’m not in the mood,” he said. “Not for that.”
“Not in the mood?” Val was on her feet in a heartbeat. “Since when is Blaze Leveau not in the mood for sex?”
Ah, of course, Val’s temperament wouldn’t make this easy.
There were very few things a girl like Val hated more than rejection.
