Page 48 of A Dance With Devils
“Okay.”
My frown drops, eyes now looking at the phone rather than Malachi. “You’re sure you’re okay?” The phone is slowly taken off the table, long fingers pulling it back towards him. “Brandon? I love you. Be good, yes?”
I’m still looking at the phone, as those fingers wrap around it and hover over the pad. “Okay, Ally. Stay safe. See you soon.”
Before I can get another damn word out of my mouth, Malachi ends the call for me.
My eyes snap up to his.
“Safe. Interesting word,” he says, smiling. “Are you still hungry?” I’m too busy wondering why he’s rolling his sleeves up to consider whether I’m hungry or not. “And who goes first in this tit for tat game of yours?”
“Yes, I’m still hungry.”
I’m not that I can feel, but the question, or my lack of preparation for what’s coming next, makes me say the only thing I can think of to give me a little more time to acclimatise to my reckless plan to get home.
“Beg for it.”
“What?”
“Hands and knees. And beg. I’ve decided I’m going first.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I rarely joke about fucking.”
“I am doing this to help you, you know? I could have just left and-”
“It’s very kind of you.” He smirks and leans back, shifting his weight so he can get to his belt. I watch it being pulled through the buckle, the top button flicked and zipper pulled down.
“I’m not sucking dick and begging. That’s two things.” I stand and look around the room, attempting inspiration. There isn’t anything but old books and old things and old dust. “Tit for tat is one thing, and then there’s reciprocation. Where are the kitchens?”
I’m walking out and doing up my robe again before he can answer, looking left and right, as I try to remember anything about this place. Nothing comes all that quickly, but I do seem to remember a cupboard and the smell of food wafting around. I could use a shower, too, if I’m honest. And some clothes. Although, clothes do seem to be a moot point around here.
The feel of something hard and heavy on my back happens too fast for me to avoid, and before I’ve got any balance at all I’m turned, pinned to the wall and being hoisted upwards. The weight of him, and the fact that all I can feel is very real, solid muscle up against me, makes me gasp in a breath. So big. And dense. And too much for me to even contemplate without some readiness. But all I’ve got is waiting. Waiting and watching as he stares at my face.
“Are you going to fix me, little Alice?”
“I … I don’t …”
“You’ll lose. It won’t work. Nothing ever does.”
So close. And fuck, he smells good. All spice and aggravation. I can feel his dick between us, feel the buckle of his open belt scratching at my stomach. I squirm, then still as I watch that face light up at my sign of weakness. “Food, Malachi. Then tit for tat. And a shower.”
The weight of him continues, his face moving in closer until he’s mouthing around my neck and making me feel all kinds of sensations that I can’t remember feeling in too long. I sigh and balance my hands on his shoulders, almost ready to just let him get on with whatever he wants and forget this little plan of mine.
Footsteps bring me back to the moment. My head lolls sideways, eyes taking in the male form walking towards us. Tall, handsome. Suit. More dark everything. I vaguely remember him from somewhere, or maybe I don’t.
My hand goes to my lips, as if there’s a latent memory of him there for some reason.
He stops and looks us over, less than no interest on show, and then turns and goes again.
“Gray?” Malachi says, still with his head in my neck and chest. The footsteps stop again. “Thank you for trying.” I don’t know why he’s thanking him, but the man – Gray – nods and starts moving again. And then the footsteps are gone and it’s nothing but air and us.
“I want my shower,” snips out of me, as he crawls around my neck again.
“Showers are good. Showers mask the blood.” I’m not sure I heard that right. Maybe it was the muffled sound of his voice as he keeps kissing my neck, throat, and jugular. If I did hear it right, though, it’s more worrying than I’m willing to accept at the moment. “Not that there’s any point in this. But you trying helps. Run, Alice.”
I shift, pitch, turn and struggle until I manage to get myself on the floor and he’s glaring at me. I should probably care about that – I don’t. I turn and run instead, heading for the stairs I vaguely remember here. There must be a shower in one of the bedrooms, and maybe after that I can run for a dining room – hope dinner gets served somehow.
