Page 60 of An Assassin's Death
I push at his hand but he doesn’t let me go. My palm connects with his shoulder and I shove against his hard chest. He staggers back from me. A shining look gleams in his eyes. It looks like guilt and it looks like regret.
But I know he’ll never tell me either way.
I turn, but at the last minute, all the fury in me builds to an all-time high. I spin quickly and kick my leg out, catching his knees just right until he lands hard on his back. A low grunt rumbles through him.
It’s oddly satisfying in a petty way.
“Don’t pretend to care about my safety, Ty.” I turn slightly away from him, wanting to go to bed but I can’t seem to look away from him. Nothing but exhaustion has filled this day. I just want to sleep. I want to sleep and forget the way these men are affecting me.
Then his palm wraps around my ankle and he pulls hard. A gasp barely has time to leave my lungs before the back of my head slams against the soft rug. Pain shoots through my skull. He rolls and his body covers mine, his arm holding him just above me.
“Don’t pretend you don’t care that I care about you.” His rumbling words send a tingling feeling all through my core. The hard pounding of my heart pulses through me and I'm suddenly aware that I'm not wearing underwear. His smooth stomach is pressed between my thighs and against my sex.
It's all I can think about.
His gaze drifts across my features as if he’s just now aware of how close we are. The white light of the moon catches the intensity of his eyes. It highlights every storming emotion he holds there. He’s still assessing everything about me as I lean slowly forward.
I inch closer, my elbows supporting my weight and he watches my every move with intent interest.
My lips press slowly to his. I don’t know why I do it.
I’d like to say it’s to test him. To see if he really meant what he said.
Does he really care about me?
But honestly… it’s impulsive. I simply want to feel that connection that’s always brooding between us when he’s around.
But only for a moment.
I pull back from him and a heavy breath leaves his lips, fanning against mine. It’s a repressed sound. Like he’s been holding his breath the entire time he’s known me.
Power tingles against my lips and I know it’s his abilities absorbing into me. But I have no idea what his powers even are. I feel it though. It caresses against my mind and lingers peculiarly there. It tries to distract me from the sexy hooded look in his eyes.
“I knew you guys would fuck eventually.” Jameson’s voice cuts through the tension. He tears away our rising emotions in an instant.
It’s a simple statement, but it’s enough to make Tylin pull away from me. He sits up, his hands pushing over his short, cropped hair. He puts plenty of space between us.
I hate how much that felt like a dismissal.
Like he’s embarrassed to be seen here like this with me.
With ease, I stand and pull my shirt back down, ignoring the both of them. I don’t chance a glance back at Tylin where he stays seated on the floor.
My heavy footsteps bring me up the curving staircase. Jameson’s shoulder is smooth against mine as I pass. I didn’t even hear him walk from the living room to the stairs. How long has he been here?
I can’t help but leave him one last snarky remark before I head to bed.
“If you think that’s what sex looks like, then you’re not nearly as experienced as I thought you were.”
Twenty-Seven
An Assassin’s Past
There’sa feeling you get right before you’re about to do something that you’ve dreaded doing for days. Instead of obsessing about it, or even planning for it anymore, you just… do nothing at all.
I’m currently sitting in a gown and accessories that cost over a thousand dollars. Sure, I think the sunglasses and three gleaming rings are a bit excessive, but Tylin did buy them for me, so I’ll wear them with pride. Even if I do look ridiculous wearing them as I sit on the floor of Jameson’s bedroom. The gown’s bunched up around my legs as I sit in heap of satin fabric. A cherry, crimson color stains my lips, my eyes are a brilliant blue with long lashes coated into a thick array of beauty. Long, dark locks are pulled back from my sweetly freckled face.
When I looked in the mirror, I realized I looked like her. It startled me so much I finally just sat down, trying hard to get the image of her photo out of my head.
