Page 14 of Sustaining
“Well, I mean, we probably finished up tomorrow’s work, too, but that just sounds sort of bragging when I say it out loud.”
I blink at the arrogant dragon taint.
“Okay. I’ll take a break and see whatever it is you’ve done.” Once more I narrow my eyes on him, and it only causes him to laugh. “If you really are done, you’ll get to help in the sweat saunas with me.”
“Dirty promises.” That smile makes his rasping whisper more dangerous to my little reckless heart.
I step past him, his hands brushing down my hips the moment he’s behind me.
“Miles,” Chaos whispers just as the cool air washes over me. I look back to see the younger boy looking across the room at the shifter. “Don’t wait forever to make your move, kid.”
I roll my eyes but stop abruptly when I remember how quickly Chaos got me into bed. Now that I think about it, it was easy for Chaos. He’s attractive, and my sex life was…pitiful. He made his move in the sweetest, sexiest way.
Shit. Sometimes Chaos misses the point, but sometimes he knows exactly what he’s talking about. I stand smiling and a bit stunned while I think about our relationship.
My gaze drifts up to the green hill beyond the cobbled street we’re about to climb. Dread weighs my limbs as I think about that hike I’m going to have to do back through the forest, and I’m still glaring at the beautiful land when his hands slip beneath my legs. The air in my lungs rushes out as a small yelp tumbles from my mouth.
With one hand under my knees and the other cradling my back, Chaos holds me to his chest.
“Manual labor does not look good on you, Low.” A kiss presses to my hair, and all I can do is wrap my hands behind his neck and pretend to be insulted as he carries me across the street.
“I’m capable of walking myself, Chaos.”
“By all means, don’t let me stop you from your independence.” The smirking asshole moves to release me, sliding me down his chest, but I wrap my thighs around his hips and cling on to him like a desperate—lazy—monkey on a vine.
His big hands clasp around each of my thighs as he shakes his head at me.
“Did it ever occur to you that I like carrying you?” He barely ever acknowledges his surroundings but he never stumbles while he carries me around, his gaze locked on mine.
My father’s worker, Brenton, pins his attention on the two of us as we head toward the forest. His curious eyes hold a small ounce of judgement. It’s a look I’ve seen a time or twelve in this village. It’ll only get worse.
I just need to leave before it does.
Chaos’ head dips, maneuvering us both as he dodges a branch and starts to weave through the forest.
“You say you like carrying me, but I bet you’ll be panting by the time we make it there.” My fingers trail back and forth over his thick, inky beard. I love the contrast of his unique eyes and his dark hair. I love the way the light peeks in on us right now, making his eyes seem even deeper in the flashes of sunlight.
“You think so?”
I nod to him, studying him while he studies me.
“Maybe I’ll have to show you just how long I can keep up a pace sometime.”
I can’t decide if it’s intentional or not when he adjusts me just right, dragging my core against his dick. His tongue sweeps across his lower lip at the same time as my thighs clench around his lean hips.
Chaos is sweet. He really is. But he’s also very much completely masculine.
I brush my lips against his, tasting him. He never stops walking as he kisses me back like he might fuck right now while we wander through the forest. My tongue slides over the seam of his mouth for the briefest moment before I hear them.
“Hell is real, I’ve just never had the pleasure of visiting.”
“Are you really a demon if you’ve never went down under?” Rime’s voice holds that snarky but even sarcasm.
“I can’t decide if that sounds dirty or like a tropical island. What were we talking about?”
The quiet hum of their laughter has me pulling back slowly from Chaos. The rare sound of Rime’s laughter still hums through the quiet forest, and the two men lying side by side on the dry leaves littering the ground hold every bit of my attention.
Rime’s palm is lifted above them both. White frost and flecks of soft snow drift from his arched fingers, but the frost never touches the ground. Sinister twists his wrist back and forth like he’s choreographing instruments instead of snow. He carries the flakes high above them. It’s such a strange, strange sight. I just stare with an open mouth as Rime creates this beautiful cold frost, and Sinister twirls it all up above. With subtle shifts of his fingertips, Sinister pulls all that snow together and, hanging above the two men like drifting clouds, are pure-white snow angels.
