Page 25 of A Dance With Devils
I’m part way across the hall towards my room when I hear the sound of voices talking. Another frown lands as I make my way to them, hands placing the shoes I’m still carrying on the sideboard as I enter the room.
All three sets of eyes look at me, their conversation stopping instantly.
“Ah, our host has arrived!” Lucien says, standing.
“I have. And I see you’re enjoying my home without permission.”
Both the others stand in the background, one I’ve never met before smiling as Damien heads to me. “Our permission is in your bank account, Malachi,” he says, as he smirks and walks closer. “We have keys because of that fact.”
The thought aggravates me, not that I make them aware of it but I do glower at the newcomer who has no permission to be here at all. He holds his hands up in surrender immediately, head inclined gently. “And you are?” I ask.
“Temple Greene,” he says, holding his hand out to shake.
I don’t take it. “Why are you here?”
“They invited me,” he replies, putting his hands in his suited pockets. “I apologise if-“
My eyes flips to both of them. “Without asking me first?”
“Calm down, Malachi,” Karl cuts in. “He can afford it and is like minded. I assumed we’d be trusted as your friends for years.”
That isn’t the point. No one comes here unless I agree to it. Which, given this strange exhibition of power from both Lucien and Karl, is questionable for either of them at the moment.
Heading for the drinks tray, I pour a vodka and stare out the window to wait for an explanation that might make me more agreeable to newcomers in my home. Underground, I would have accepted more readily, but up here?
“Malachi, he needs this as much as-“
“I’m sure he can explain himself,” I muse, sipping my drink. “Be quick. I have a new little thing running about that needs my attention.”
“All of it, Temple,” Damien says quietly.
Five minutes’ worth of words coming out of his mouth and I realise he at least knows what he’s talking about with regard to the type of community I have here. Clubs mostly. Some well-known venues in Shanghai. Recently divorced his wife for adultery, which he’s struggling with. He just needs some downtime, reorganisation as he calls it.
I sigh and turn to look him over again, reasonably comfortable with his abilities now he’s expanded on who he is and why he’s here. Tall, blonde. Piercing green eyes that seem sharp as a knife, as they stay trained on me without sway.
Money, though.
“The accounts need rectifying before you play with anything,” mutters out of me, as I head back for the doorway and pick up her shoes. “Make sure you understand the rules before breaking any of them. And do not, under any circumstances, try to leave with any of my pills. You’ll be hunted down for it. The result won’t be good for you physically.”
“Of course not,” he says.
“And you two can stay up here until I’ve calmed down,” grumbles out of me. They both look affronted. Tough. I don’t like surprises. “I’ll send something up for you to play with. It won’t have tattoos on it. If you find that one, leave it alone.”
One last look, a continued frown at both Lucien and Damien, and I leave to carry on with my original plan – shower and change. And then a fuck. With anything.
But not her.
Not yet.
~
If it wasn’t for the intrigue this new scene is offering, I’d be starting my hunt by now, but Temple Greene is good, much to my annoyance. I lean back into the chair and watch on, part enticed by the way he’s handling this girl. She seems bewitched, as he teases her into movement. Long strides around her. Gentle words coming from his mouth to encourage her to do whatever he’s asking for. There’s nothing harsh about his demeanour, nothing brutish either. He’s calm, relaxed, and about ready to fucking blow if she doesn’t get on with fucking the man he’s asking her to.
She’s young, though. And too focused on him rather than the dick he’s got ready for her. If he wasn’t so attractive and commanding it might have worked more successfully. Seems he doesn’t want to fuck, though. Just watch. I know someone else like that – he fucked in the end.
Everyone here does. It’s unavoidable.
Especially when you find that perfect recipient.
