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“Meg can’t hear us from here,” said Knox. “She’ll be busy in the kitchen for a while.”

Yeah, Keenan could hear dishware clattering and water running from a faucet. “Khloé and I agreed it would be a one-time thing.”

“For a person who’s finally had the very thing they’ve wanted for years, you don’t seem happy about it. Is your demon pushing you for a repeat? You usually only wear that ‘don’t speak to me’ expression when your demon’s riding you about something. You said it liked her just fine. Was that an understatement?”

It was more than a damn understatement. The demon wanted a lot more than just a repeat. It had been in a foul mood ever since Keenan left Khloé’s home in the early hours of this morning, and it had gotten progressively worse throughout the day. The entity wanted to be at her side—she amused and entertained it, giving it a break from the relentless boredom that plagued all demons.

When Keenan had heard that Enoch had struck again, a fury like he’d never felt had torn through his system, just as it had coursed through his demon. They both wanted to track down the son of a bitch and kill him with their bare hands. They also wanted to yell at Khloé for not calling out to them for aid.

Yes, Keenan understood why she hadn’t. He wouldn’t have expected her to call out to Larkin or Levi, so it wasn’t fair of Keenan to expect her to contact him. Nonetheless, he was pissed. And that same illogical anger hummed through his demon.

He’d purposely stayed away from her until later on, not trusting that he wouldn’t chew a metaphorical chunk out of her ass—that wouldn’t get him anywhere with Khloé. It wouldn’t make her talk to him, and it certainly wouldn’t help him convince her to contact him directly in the future if Enoch made another move.

By the time he’d seen her at the studio’s closing time, he’d calmed down enough that he could talk without grinding his teeth. His demon? Not so much. So Keenan had held back on talking with her, giving his demon’s foul mood the time to ease.

Considering what happened between them in the early hours of that morning, Keenan had expected her to act a little differently around him. Not awkward—that wasn’t in her nature—but different … if for no other reason than he’d seen her naked. Plus, in his experience, a lot of women felt unnecessary shame after a one-night stand.

But Khloé had been her normal self, as if nothing had happened between them, as if it wasn’t a blip on her radar. Maybe he should have been relieved that there was no weirdness, but he wasn’t. Because it fucking rankled that she could just push what had happened to the back of her mind when he wasn’t able to do it.

He’d fed himself a bunch of bullshit when he’d pinned her against her hallway wall—he’d lied to himself that the draw he felt toward her would disappear the moment she was no longer forbidden fruit; that taking her just once would be enough to burn out what was between them. He’d known, known, that all he’d want afterward was more. But he’d reached for what he craved anyway.

Could he have stopped himself? Yes. Probably. Maybe.

In any case, he hadn’t wanted to stop. And now, well, he was fucked. He couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful she’d looked beneath him, accepting the hard fucking he gave her.

Usually, no matter how good the sex had been, he always felt a niggle of dissatisfaction after a one-night stand. Part of him felt … empty. He couldn’t quite explain it.

There had been no such feeling of emptiness when he’d collapsed over Khloé, panting and shaking with aftershocks. He’d felt truly and utterly sated. In truth, sex had never been that good for him before.

But then, he wasn’t exactly emotionally detached from Khloé, was he? Which was why it had been dangerous to succumb to what he wanted, but he’d done it anyway. He couldn’t get the taste or feel of her out of his mind.

Realizing that Knox was waiting for an answer, Keenan sighed and said, “My demon’s giving me trouble, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” The entity snorted, the little shit.

“Are you sure? Because if it wanted Khloé anywhere near as badly as you did, it won’t so easily back down and give her up. Our demons can be quite obsessive. If it decides to fight you, you’ll be in for a rough time.”

“It’s fought me on things before. It always subsided eventually.”

Knox hummed and then set down his glass. “Would you care to tell me why you haven’t touched a drop of alcohol for over a week?”

“No.”

The Prime’s mouth twitched. “Thought not. But it doesn’t take a genius to work out that it had something to do with Khloé. You were proving to her that you aren’t an alcoholic. She wanted proof of that before she allowed you in her bed?”

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