Page 16 of Vow of Revenge
The corners of her mouth dropped. “Fine by me.”
I inhaled another drag of smoke and held it in my lungs to benefit from its calming authority. Tipping my head back, I gestured for her to sit upright, then, placing my lips onto hers and cupping each side of her mouth, I slowly transferred the smoke from my lungs into hers. She inhaled every wisp like she was sucking up my soul.
Her pupils dilated and retracted at the gesture. When the smoke had emptied from my chest, I lingered at her mouth for a second, aware of her slow smoky sigh. “That’s called a blow back, probably easier for you to inhale second hand,” I muttered, returning to the end of the couch, away from her naked body. “Do you want another?”
She gulped, pausing in the fleeting memory of our intimacy. “I’ll do it myself this time.” It was obvious she was trying not to look at me, with her stare fixated on the blanket where her fingers repeatedly scrunched the material.
I nodded and sucked in a long slow drag. My self-control was fraying. Being so close to her was chipping at my composure, unravelling something inside me that needed to stay hidden. Perhaps I’d met my match with this one, and that meant she was even more dangerous than the rest. I always came out on top and this was no different. If I had to ruin her, I would. Hands down. All tears and no forever.
Freya quickly got used to the smoke filling her pure lungs. She swaddled herself in the soft grey blanket, protecting her decency in a fluffy cocoon.
The glowing gold swirling in her eyes sparked tiny embers at the rim of her black pupils. I was entranced, gazing into her big orbs as they contracted while her heart rate began to simmer. My stare lingered a fraction too long, lost in the magical dance of her soul swirling in the flames behind her virtue.
“Oh my god, you look so intense. Are you always the strong and silent, broody type? You need to chill, Kaleb. Like horizontal.” Her head bobbed to the side like an inquisitive puppy. “Or is it vertical? Okay, not sure right now which one it is.” She righted her head and tapped her brow with the palm of her hand. “I always get this mixed up. What are those hangy things called? Those long hideous strips on the windows in offices. They’re vertical, aren’t they? The window things… blinds… yeah, they’re long aren’t they?” she babbled incoherently, but I knew exactly what she was talking about.
Freya was stoned.
Her cute giggle was infectious and each time she laughed her cheeks dimpled. My cock was swelling and that rarely happens after a smoke. It’s usually more settling than physically inspiring, but then again, the pill was still in my blood stream.
“Do you smoke cigarettes?” she asked, twirling a lock of hair around her forefinger.
“Nope. I hate the smell of stale fag ash.” I inhaled a long draw, letting it flurry out in a plume. “These are the only exception.” I handed her the ashtray with the joint resting on the edge.
“Yeah, me too. It’s really gross. How ironic.” She giggled again. “I’m glad you don’t smoke.”
She was fascinating me. “Why?”
Freya took a short puff and handed it back. “I kissed this guy once who tasted like an ashtray. His breath was rancid.” She faked a shudder, hiding her eyes behind the palm of her hand. “When he leant in for another kiss, all I could smell was sour bad breath. Like seriously, how is that supposed to turn a girl on? And believe me, he wasn’t exactly hot either, not in your league. You would think mouth hygiene would be top of his list, given he didn’t have much else going for him.”
I contemplated her opinion of me. She thought I was hot. What woman didn’t. A cloud of smoke escaped down my nose like a masterful dragon. “Did you fuck him?”
Her hands shot up to her eyes again, sheltering her searing embarrassment. “No! Believe it or not, I don’t fuck every random guy I kiss.”
Good to know. That sweet soft demeanour was refreshingly sexy, but the voice in the back of my mind was warning me, cajoling me to get her out of my home. It was all a fucking charade of chemical highs and lies.
Freya’s breasts moulded into her knees when she angled forward. “Thanks for looking after me, Kaleb. Even though you’re a jackass, I really appreciate it.” The tone lacing her words was playful yet sincere.
My brows snapped together. “A jackass?”
Her smile stretched wide with a teasing breadth. “Yeah, a sexy jackass.”
Words spilled out from her stoned brain. I couldn’t resist the grin creeping over my lips as I listened to her nonsense. “Where are you from?” I was oddly taken with a hint of curiosity.
“Born and bred in Belfast, up North. You?”
“I moved in with my aunt and uncle, near the border when I was a kid.” Why was I telling her this shit?
“And your parents?” she asked.
I shrugged, deciding not to get into details. That was a wormhole I wasn’t prepared to enter tonight. “Not much to tell.”
“I need another drink. Do you have bottles of Corona and something to eat? I haven’t had food in aaaaaages!” Her head sank back on the soft leather, those pretty red lips pouted in thought.
My urgent and powerful need pushed the warning sirens aside. “You’ll have to give me something in return.”
Her eyes cut to mine. A thick heavy atmosphere settled between us. She knew what I wanted; I felt her lust pulsating through the couch.
“What do you have in mind?” She lifted her chest, going from a casual slouch to erect with anticipation.
