Lethal (The Disciples 1)

She looks up and drops her phone on the pool table. I absorb her very essence as she moves toward me.

I sigh. “Babe, I’m beat. Can I take you tomorrow to see your dad?”

Setting the tray down, I watch the different emotions play upon her face. Her dark sooty lashes blink back her disappointment. She shimmies out of her short, military-green jacket and drapes it on the back of the chair.

“Actually, tomorrow is better. He’ll have more energy.” She smiles and adrenaline floods my body. Smoothly, she moves to the bar area. If I thought she would be uncomfortable with this morning, I’m wrong. We both seem to fit and I like it.

“Do you want a beer?” Her raspy voice coats over me like caramel on an apple, and I drop my tired body in a chair, stretching my legs out.

“Or whiskey?” She picks up the bottle of Jack Daniels and gently shakes it. Her eyes sweep my form. I chuckle as her cheeks turn pink in seconds.

“I missed you today. Bring the bottle and come kiss me.”

She cocks her head, a saucy grin on her face. “Jack it is.” As she passes, she grabs two tumblers.

“Hi.” She leans over me, her honey-streaked hair falling down my chest as I reach and bring her sweet lips to mine. She tastes like minty toothpaste and I deepen the kiss because I can.

When I finally let her up for air, she caresses my check, but there’s a small frown in between her eyebrows. “You look so tired.”

I lean back in my chair and reach for the bottle. Unscrewing it, I let the hot, spicy flavor burn and warm me up. “It’s hard being king.”

She stops for a second and cocks her head to look at me. It’s like a caress really, her eyes soft as she slowly smiles and looks down at the tray. She bites her lip as if she’s thinking of something and all I do is stare as she gracefully unwraps the aluminum foil that covers our dinner. The room instantly fills with the aroma of steak, carrots, and sautéed cauliflower.

“Oh my God… this smells so good. I hope you pay Amy a ton of money. Her cooking’s amazing.” She unwraps the bread, her eyes huge as she waves the baguette at me. “It’s still warm.”

It’s physically impossible not to touch her. I reach out a hand and tug her into the chair next to me.

“Come here, beautiful. Sit.”

She reaches for the napkins and silverware and arches a brow at me. “Are you okay?”

I chuckle. “Probably not. Drink with me.” I pour two generous shots.

Eve leans over, elbows on the table. Her long, slender fingers wrap around the glass and I shift as my cock gets hard. Jesus Christ, I could fuck her ten times a day and it be wouldn’t be enough.

“What’s wrong?” her voice brings me back to her.

I shrug. Leaning forward, I place my hand on her leg. “I’m trying to figure out my next move. It would be nice if I don’t have to kill anyone.”

She doesn’t even blink. If I’ve scared her, she does an amazing job of hiding it.

“This is what you deal with everyday? Always looking over your shoulder?”

Our eyes meet as she moves closer and her warm breath is mine to steal. Slowly I answer, “Yes, this is my life.”

She swallows, her eyes huge as I caress her cheek and stare at her parted lips.

“I keep telling you I’m a bad guy, Angel.” Our faces are inches apart, but I need her to believe this. Dropping my hand, I lean back and reach for my glass. “Don’t get confused and think I’m some kind of hero.”

A slow, sexy smile graces her lips and it hits me right in the chest. It’s like she’s a witch or a fairy that’s cast a spell on me. And fuck if I care. I can’t help myself as I lean forward again.

“You don’t seem upset about that?”

“Because I’m not.” She smiles. “What should we toast to?” her voice purrs into my lips.

I can’t help but grin. “How about to bad guys?”

Pouting for a moment, she smiles. “How about… to bad guys and bad girls.” That saucy stare goes right to my cock.

I clink her glass to mine. “I love it,” I say, and shoot the whole glass. This time, the whiskey sends a soothing warmth down my throat.

She watches me. Her eyes narrow and she takes a dainty sip. I burst out laughing, grab her face, and kiss those plump red lips, which taste like bourbon and heaven, and I know in this moment, she might very well be my downfall. It takes all my willpower to stop kissing her before I can’t look at myself in the mirror tomorrow.

I sit up and look around my room. Much as she’s done with the bathroom, Eve has slowly become a part of my bedroom. Her gossip magazines litter the coffee table. Her shoes are under a chair. Trying not to think about why this doesn’t bother me I say, “I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”