Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
He doesn’t look like he’s laughing now.
In fact, he looks almost murderous.
Thanatos shifts away from me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize she was yours.”
“She’s not.” He doesn’t move, doesn’t take his gaze from the other man. “But she’s not for the taking.”
“My mistake.” Thanatos starts to stand. “It won’t happen again.”
I don’t make the decision to move. My hand seems to lash out all on its own and wrap around Thanatos’s wrist. “No.” He pauses, standing over me, but it’s not him I’m looking at. I hold Charon’s gaze. “I’m the only one who decides who’s going to be taking me.”
Thanatos catches my hand again and raises it to his lips. “That may be true everywhere else, but this is Hades’s club, and Charon is an extension of his will here. Sorry, love.” A brush of his lips to my skin, and then he’s gone, striding to the bar without looking back.
Actual anger licks up my spine. I turn to glare at Charon, who hasn’t moved. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” He sounds perfectly mild, but something dangerous flickers in his blue eyes. He sinks onto the empty seat across from me, his large body filling it. “We had an agreement. You only come here with me, and you only watch, never participate.”
He’s right, but I don’t care. “Am I a child who needs a babysitter?” I certainly feel like it most of the time. It was already bad before the situation with Orpheus, and my family has gotten so much worse since. But Charon isn’t my family. I might have allowed his babysitting because he allowed me a degree of freedom, but… “I don’t need your permission to take a lover.” I don’t know where the words come from, but once I voice them, it’s impossible to stop. “If I wanted to fuck every single person in this room, then that’s exactly what I’d do.”
He lifts his brows. “Is that what you want to do?”
The question is so mild, it threatens to take the wind right out of my sails. I fist my hands at my sides. No, of course not. I’m interested in exploring kink, but that doesn’t mean I want to throw myself off the deep end just to prove a point. And yet when I speak, it’s not to back down. “And if it is?”
Charon sits back slowly. It draws my attention to the way his suit jacket clings to his broad shoulders and how the shirt beneath leaves little to the imagination. He has the kind of body built for sin, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about what he might look like without his customary armor on. Not that I’ll ever admit as much. I jerk my gaze back to his face.
Anyone else might smirk to have caught me checking them out. Charon just searches my expression with that same calmness in place. For the first time, it makes me want to do something to shatter it. He’s always so damned contained. I used to find that a comfort, but lately it’s become an itch I can’t scratch.
He’s my friend. My best friend. He also inspires some of the filthiest fantasies I’ve ever allowed myself to indulge in. But when he looks at me, there’s nothing but gentleness in his blue eyes.
I need to let it go. I know what happens when I fall for someone who doesn’t feel the same way—or the same strength of attraction. I end up discarded and broken. I refuse to go through that again, to bash myself against the wall that is someone else’s reluctance.
No, that’s not fair. I can’t blame him for this when I’m the one who’s walking around with half a heart. Charon deserves to be with someone who can be with him fully. Even if he wanted me, all I can offer him is sex that will end in heartbreak and disaster for both of us. I need to stop this and stop it now. “Charon—”
Charon shakes his head, cutting me off. “That’s not what you want.”
“Don’t tell me what I want.” I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I never talk to anyone like this—especially him. I’m the sweet one. The delicate one. The one who will shatter at a harsh word. I shove to my feet, fighting not to teeter in my heels. They’re higher than I normally wear; I dressed up for Ariadne. I’m glad she didn’t come now though, because having to explain that to Charon would be a special kind of nightmare.
Gods, I’m doing it again. Bending to him when I should be standing strong on my own. Fury at myself as much as him has me snapping words I would never otherwise speak. “Unless you plan on fucking me, get out of my way.”