Page 12 of Crave Me
Gather information. Then break her.
“Goddess Nyx?” I asked, tasting her name and finding that I rather liked it.
She stepped closer, her sensual form scant inches from mine. She seemed to be studying me again, her gaze leaving mine to stare at my mouth and then my shoulders before venturing lower.
“You can call me Nyx,” she murmured. “I prefer to avoid titles. I’ve found that they don’t mean much, and sometimes they provide a false context for one’s true power in life.”
A wise sentiment. However… “Titles can also demonstrate respect for a well-deserved position.”
She shrugged. “There are better ways to show someone respect.”
I tilted my head, curious. “Such as?”
“Such as not throwing knives at them,” she replied with a pointed glance toward my second-in-command. “Or calling them a goddess-witch hybrid after already being given their title.” She looked at me again. “But as I said, titles are a false context. I could demonstrate my power instead, if you’d like?”
“Like you did with the bar?” I gestured to the remains and arched a brow. “I think we all received that message loud and clear,Goddess.”
Her forehead crinkled a little as she glanced between me and the destruction she’d caused. “Are you referring to how I excavated everyone after the explosion?”
Now it was my turn to frown. “Excavated everyone?”
“Well, technically, I teleported them out from beneath the rubble.” Her gaze flickered over the crowd. “Like that one.” She looked pointedly at Slater. “He was in pretty bad shape because of all the bricks holding him down, but he started to heal the moment I removed him from the rubble.”
She continued surveying the scene, finding Nolan next.
“Him, too,” she murmured. “But there were two I couldn’t save in time. They were too close to the blast.”
She shuddered, suggesting that the memory of the event irked her.
Which didn’t make sense at all.
“Did your power call me out here to provide my statement?” she continued, her focus returning to me. “It’s very impressive. I imagine you have a title to go with all that intoxicating energy.”
Her palm went to my sternum, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled my scent.
“You smell like a decadent dessert.” Her whisper was low, meant for my ears alone. “It makes me want to lick you from head to toe.”
I caught her wrist before her hand could wander, but I didn’t release her. I simply held her to me and said, “Three men.”
Her brow furrowed. “What?”
“There were three men who didn’t make it out alive, one of whom was a member of Gold and Garnet.” Saying the words served as a reminder for my purpose—one this little vixen seemed intent on distracting me from.
Because that touch was burning a hole through my suit and scalding my skin beneath the layers of fabric.
I should push her away.
Except…
Keeping her close makes her easier to read, I reminded myself.
It was an excuse. A good one. But still an excuse just to continue touching her.
Recognizing that weakness, however, allowed me to maintain control of it.
And it had me locking in on my truth-seeking abilities, too. I always used them—they were second nature to me—but I wanted to be absolutely sure about her answers.
Which thus far had been truthful.
