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My eyes slide over the tops of his tattooed hands, roaming over his face with a predacious smirk aimed right at Charles.
Getting a good look at Valen, the pictures don’t do him justice. Every time I see him, I find something else that is perfect. You could stare at him for hours, trying to find a flaw, but would come up empty. His jaw is more defined. His shoulders broader. He’s not as lean but bulkier. He put on more muscle, and you can tell by the definition of his shoulders that he’s strong. His messy blond hair and lip piercing add to his appeal. I observe that he has painted his nails black. His bottom lip is a shade darker than the top.
My boots sound like bricks hitting rock with every step I take. The crunch of leaves with every stride. Hazel eyes, with a hint of blue, land on me. It feels like a hammer hitting a high striker at a carnival game right to my brain. His eyes drop to my black boots and slowly rise, pausing by the hem of my skirt like he is waiting to see if I’m bare or wearing panties.
As I approach the table, my gaze immediately finds Charles, my hand flying to cover my whisper of disbelief. “OhmyGod.”
Charles’s face is swollen, with hues of black and blue marring his face and blood veining the white of his eye. A cut on his top lip. He looks like he was attacked.
Turning to Valen, the question spills out, “What happened?”
Valen responds with a rapacious smile. “He slipped in the shower when he was bending over.”
Charles’s eyes dance between me and Valen nervously. Then to Garret. The two guys seated across and back to me.
“It happens,” Charles explains, “when the tiles are wet. I slipped and?—”
“Landed on your face and busted your lip at the same time,” I interrupt, not believing it.
Valen grins. “He likes cock, Melody.” He turns to Charles. “Isn’t that right, Charles?” he muses. “You weren’t thinking when you got hot and heavy with your boy toy.”
“You’re gay?” I ask Charles.
Charles shakes his head in a silent plea and winces when he remembers his face is all banged up. “No,” he says solemnly.
"Yesterday, he was,” Valen says with a dark resonance.
“You were there?” I ask with a flicker of curiosity.
Is Valen bi?
“No, but you heard what he said. The tiles were wet, so...” He pauses for a moment. “Let’s go.”
Panic sweeps over me when he stands, his movements fluid and deliberate as he swings his leg over the bench.
“That’s okay. You can give me the assignment, and I’ll be on my way,” I suggest in a feeble attempt at control.
He draws near, his voice low and seductive. “Now, what would be the fun in that?”
The tiny hairs on my body stand. The air around us thickens, leaving his scent. My heartbeat syncs to an unknown rhythm.
Words fail me. My mind tries to scramble for a response, but I come up empty. No, yes. Fuck off. I don’t want to go anywhere with you.
Fear and excitement amalgamated in my veins. If I say the last part, he will know the truth.
I’m afraid of him.
That he affects me.
I can’t make sense of what I feel, but I’m attracted to him.
I lick my lips nervously, regretting choosing tights with a black skirt to wear this morning. They cling too tightly, not allowing the heat between my thighs to cool. It feels like I have a furnace between my legs when Valen is near me—intense and unyielding.
His gaze intensifies, the blue in his eyes dissolving into a stormy gray. “What do you want to eat?”
I want the ground to swallow me. His smile widens, fully aware of the turmoil he's causing, sending a flush of heat that seems to ignite every nerve ending, the sensation centering with an almost unbearable intensity of heat spreading around my clit like gasoline in a fire.
“I have plenty of places in mind,” he says, “not too far, not too close.” He steps forward, the chain dangling from his jeans with every stride. I find myself looking up, craning to meet his gaze, feeling dwarfed by his height. His eyes roam down my frame like he’s measuring, assessing my size and how it compares to his.
