Dancing with the Devil (Ravens Ruin MC 3)

I walk away from my brother thinking that he already knows what my answer will be, but just like with the situation with Kaci and her dad; it’s one he’s going to make me decide on my own.Chapter 31Kaci

I snuggle into the warmth engulfing my body for a long moment before I realize safety and comfort aren’t something I’m ever afforded.

“Shh.” The soft command only serves to make me tenser. I’m rigid by the time I get my bearings and realize I’m no longer in my cage. “I’ve got you.”

“TJ?”

“I’ve got you, gorgeous. Just relax.”

Even though it’s the last thing I know I should do, I burrow deeper into his arms, burying my nose in the fabric of his shirt and breathing him into my lungs. He could be carrying me to my death, but I can’t be bothered to worry about it right now from the comfort of his arms.

My eyes remain closed even as he pauses to open a door. Raucous laughter and the hard-hitting bass of music fill my ears and then begins to fade as he continues to walk. I don’t bother to look up, and I’m even less concerned that I’m naked and people can possibly see me. The noise almost completely disappears when he opens another door and closes it with us on the other side.

“Where are we?” I ask when he stops moving.

“My room,” he answers, making no move to put me down.

Given a couple of seconds longer, I could’ve guessed where we are. His scent, stronger than just his clothing, surrounds me like a blanket.

“Black sheets?” I mutter after I finally open my eyes and look around. “I would’ve guessed red.”

He snorts in response as he continues to hold me and makes his way to a partially opened door on the other side of the room.

His bedroom is simple and shockingly vanilla, nothing like the dungeon I’d imagined due to his predilections. His bed, king sized of course, has a simple headboard and footboard, not the canopied, four-poster bed that would fit him better. The walls are bare, not covered in medieval weapons and chains.

“Your bed looks comfortable,” I say on a sigh as we pass it.

“I know you’re tired, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up first.”

My eyes squeeze closed when he flips on the bathroom light, and I bury my head into his chest again.

“Sorry,” I say, pulling my head away when I remember the knife wounds on his chest. “Are you in pain?”

His bright blue eyes meet mine, and although they shimmer as he looks down at me, I can see the exhaustion as well. His eyes are rimmed in red as if he hasn’t slept in days.

“My cock is painfully hard.” He gives me a quick, wry grin before he tilts me so I can stand on my own two feet. “But, it seems to be that way all the time around you. Add in the fact that I had your naked body pressed against me, and it’s kind of a given.”

My eyes follow his hand as he adjusts himself in his jeans without an ounce of shyness before pointing over my shoulder.

“Use the bathroom. I’m going to run you a bath.”

“What?” I look over my shoulder but make no move toward the toilet. “Can I have a little privacy?”

He rolls his eyes as if I’m acting like a bratty child but turns away from me to reach for the tub faucet. Knowing he isn’t going to leave, I race to the toilet and make quick work of my business. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve had to do this. I wasn’t awarded a single second of privacy when Deo took me all those years ago.

“Lavender or vanilla?” he asks as I’m washing my hands in the sink. Peering up, I find him standing behind me holding up two bottles of bubble bath. His eyes are focused on my ass rather than meeting mine in the mirror.

“You don’t seem like the bubble bath type,” I tease, still standing bent over at the sink until his eyes leave my ass.

“Chicks seem to like it,” he mutters absently with his eyes focused on the reflection of my bare tits. His lips part, breaths coming out harsher, and I know he’s seeing the redness left behind from him smacking them earlier.

“Like Xena?” His eyes snap up to mine, confusion drawing his brow in.

“Jealous?” He turns, upending the lavender gel over the tub. More than double the amount needed pours into the rising water, and for some reason, he’s hyper-focused on the foam as it begins to cover the top layer.

“She called me Envy,” I tell him rather than addressing my feelings at the thought of him doing this exact same thing for others.

After placing both bottles back on the edge of the tub, he turns to face me. “Envy?”