Page 5 of Hellish Fae
“Stop talking so much. We just have to get her back without making her look worse than she already fucking does,” the man with the messy brown hair growls, turning my way as he zips his dark jeans. Smoky tattoo lines angle down each of his hips as if they’re suggesting something just below his lean waist. I follow the ink to find Latin words etched higher on each side of his ribs.
It’s an old language, but not any older than the dark fae. I read each passage with ease.
Without Remorse.Without Forgiveness.
Interesting.
I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a fallen angel with tattoos.
I don’t know why I care, either. He fucking destroyed my only friend. Even if she was electronic. And he did itwithoutremorse. Clearly.
“You two done circle jerking?” I ask with an arch of my eyebrow, biting back the breathless pain in my tone as I sneer up at them.
“Why? Did you want to join the circle?” The blond says in a quiet, rasping tone with too much smoldering sex appeal for someone sent from up above.
Hmm. I like him.
You would, Catherine says.
“Get up,” the other stranger, the bastard, demands. His big palm brushes along my arm before a soft clicking sound tells me he’s unchained me from the lamp pole.
He really thinks I’m going to make his life easy after what he did.
“I rather like it here. I think I’ll stay.” I take the time to cross one leg over the other, making me slouch awkwardly into the sidewalk, but really letting them know who’s in charge here.
“The whole world can see your panties. Stop being childish.” The golden-haired one slides his hand around my upper arm, but I make my body go slack like a rag doll.
I’ll show him childish.
“Actually, I’m not putting a lot of power into my magic right now. With this glamour, only other supernaturals can see my panties. So, enjoy the show, boys.”
Golden Boy grapples to get me to a standing position as my knees purposely give out and send me right back to the ground in a heap. My skin stings against the harsh concrete, but I refuse to grimace against the pain.
I think it’s safe to say I’m getting the upper hand here.
He and I flop around on the dirty sidewalk, his body skimming mine so much, I feel like he should take me on a date first before grinding his dick on me like this. Totally ungentlemanly. He’s still fumbling to get a hold on my arms when two big hands grip my hips in a way that no one has in a long time. I shift beneath that firm press of his hold.
And then the air leaves my lungs as the other man flings me over his shoulder and white wing.
“You are the worst fallen I’ve ever fucking met,” he grumbles as he starts walking . . . somewhere. My long silver hair clings to my lips and lashes, and I can’t see a damn thing other than how his jeans hug his ass with every striding step he takes.
“You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet,” I say breathlessly.
“Stop talking,” he growls.
But it seems like we’re going to be spending a bit of time together.
“What are your names?”
“I said stop fucking talking.” My head hits his soft wing hard as he jostles me and adjusts my weight so his warm palm is gripping my thigh.
“You’re kind of hot when you get mad, Remorseless.” My long finger follows the swooping letters along his muscular sides and every part of him tenses at the endearing nickname.
He stops and tosses me down. Water sprays up around me. My palms slide in the mud, and my body tenses as I realize he tossed me down in a puddle.
Steady fingers slip beneath my chin with light roughness, and he tilts my outraged attention up to meet those deep blue eyes.
“That mouth of yours had better learn to fucking close.Fast. Understand?”
