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She’d tried distracting herself for hours—unpacking her suitcase, tackling her laundry, cleaning a kitchen that did not need cleaning. But her thoughts kept circling back to the none too small matter that, hey, Keenan would be here soon.
Shit, how had she gotten herself into this situation?
The same way she always got herself into sticky situations—she’d jumped without thinking. Which was usually fun. But now … huh, so this was what regret felt like. She happened to agree with her father—it carried the metaphorical stench of weakness.
She shook off the pointless emotion. It wouldn’t really be so bad to have an incubus feed from her, would it? Such a thing was allegedly very enjoyable, and Khloé liked to enjoy herself. Ergo, she could freaking relax.
Well, she’d find that a lot easier if the incubus in question wasn’t Keenan—a guy she’d wanted for years; a guy she couldn’t help but measure others against; a guy who didn’t want her as much as she did him or he’d have made it clear by now.
The knock on the front door made Khloé jump.
It’s not a big deal, she told herself. The whole thing would take, what, three minutes? Maybe even less. Then he’d be gone, and she’d be floating on a post-orgasm cloud. That wouldn’t be a bad way to end her weekend … or to start a new week, as it were, considering it was technically Monday morning.
Standing, she smoothed out the wrinkles in her sundress and padded into the hallway on bare feet. Taking in a deep breath, she pulled open the front door. And there he stood, tall and still. His hooded blue eyes locked on hers, full of so much heat and promise that her poor hormones went into a frenzy. And, of course, her body lit up like a Christmas tree.
Khloé stepped back, allowing him to enter. He prowled inside, exuding so much self-assurance and intense sexual energy she was surprised she didn’t feel dizzy with it.
When she closed the door, he turned to face her. His eyes dropped to the pulse that was beating far too fast in her neck. That blue gaze then snapped back to hers and drifted over her face, searching.
He took a step toward her, closing the space between them. “I won’t force you, Khloé. If you want to back out, say so now.”
And she knew there’d be no recriminations from him; that he’d accept her “no” and never mention it ever again. Strangely, that was what encouraged her to lift her chin a notch and say, “I don’t break my word.” It was quite possibly her only redeeming quality.
The air chilled as his demon surfaced, making his eyes bleed to black. “Then we will take what you owe us,” it said in its usual emotionless tone.
She licked her lips. “Bring it.”
Its eyes glimmered with what could have been amusement, and then it subsided. Towering over her, Keenan breezed his finger along her jawline. “You sure?”
“Just get it over with. The movie I want to watch starts soon—I ain’t missing it.” But he just kept on staring, and her hormones just kept on having a nervous breakdown.
Sexual tension pulsed between them like a heartbeat, and an agonizing suspense filled the air. She licked her lips. “Keenan—” Her heart thudded as a spicy, mouthwatering, aphrodisiac scent assaulted her senses. Here we go.
Like last time, the air turned humid and warm and stifling. Her lips parted as an unbearable heat whipped through her body so fast that she almost swayed. And then she was at the mercy of the carnal hunger that rocked her entire being.
She staggered backwards until she met the wall. Her nerve-endings turned hypersensitive. Her nipples peaked and throbbed. Her breasts swelled and ached. Her clit pulsed and tingled.
She couldn’t help but moan. Her pussy … It was like there was a pressure inside her. Not filling her, stretching her open, making her keenly conscious of just how empty she was. Her inner walls spasmed, desperate to grip something, but there was nothing there.
A warm hand collared her throat, and Keenan’s energy—so dark, so sensual—poured into her, filling her from head to toe. She slapped her palms on the wall behind her, scratching it a little with her nails.
An image flashed in her mind of him on his knees in front of her, his face in her pussy, her dress bunched around her waist. And she knew he’d planted the image there.
His mouth hovered over hers as he breathed in each moan and breath she released. But it was the sexual energy emanating from her that he was drinking in. The whole time, his eyes didn’t release hers. Not even for a second. There was so much raw hunger there it made her shiver.
Phantom sensations swept over her—fingers pinching her nipples, hands cupping her breasts, a tongue lashing her clit, teeth biting her inner thigh. She groaned and whimpered and arched into him. She also cursed him through gritted teeth, because he didn’t deliver any of those phantom touches to her pussy. A pussy that kept on aching and spasming.
