I paused, squinting, trying to make sense of the plastic that covered her right arm as she swung her body to the beat of Bad Wolve’sZombie. Her feet, covered in the infamous studded boots we always heard click against the pavement when she was approaching, viciously stomped along with the beat of the drummer.
Because who didn’t want to stomp their feet to a song of military woe?
The club needed a new DJ.
It was only when she lifted her arms in the air, swinging them around her friend in a drunken stupor, that I finally realized what I was looking at.Make that nine.
I had another tattoo to memorize.
And I was going to add that to the top of my to-do list.
“And so,” Eros began again, “the princess taints herself in this story.”
“Thisstory?” I asked dubiously, never taking my eyes off her swaying form. I placed my beer down on the ground, knowing full well someone would likely steal or break it, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. I couldn’t look away from her, let alone pay attention to anything in my hands.
Until it hit me full force.
Whatthe fuckis she doing here?
“You know, the fairytale story everyone always talks about—shimmering gowns, kisses under the stars with Prince Charming, and whatever else modern romance whores fantasize about.”
A flush of annoyance jerked at me again.
No one would be kissing my princess, even if she was a rebellious little thing.
Not after I claimed her as mine for once and all.
I shook my head, resting my knuckles against my lips, and rasped, “That is the gayest shit I have ever heard. And you don’t know anything about modern fairytales.”
“First of all, even if I were in the homo of sexuals, it ain’t a bad thing. Stop using it like a negative connotation, fucker. Secondly, what, oh dear one, do youbelieve is a modern fairytale? All we know is tits, bits, and wits.”
I side-eyed him at the initial correction. I mean, he was right, but it was very odd for such a large and brutal man to care about the connotation of words. As the one who actually did have a dick or five in my mouth at some points in my life, the correction felt weird against my brain. I secretly wondered if he had, too, but I supposed it was none of my business.
But on his point, I truthfully didn’t know the meaning of the modern fairytale. But the one thing Ididknow was how interesting my own fantasies were, yet how easily I managed to subdue them for the sake of other people’s wishes.
I was a respectful man. I didn’t spit on a girl’s face or bruise her ass…unless she asked.
It didn’t mean I didn’t think about it, though.
It didn’t mean that I wanted something…more.
And fuck, I thought about ruining my little princess more than I would ever admit.
“No,” I whispered as Phoebe's back grew tense, her entire body following. Her head cocked to the side as her feet stopped their insistent stomping.
She knew I was watching.
“But I do know that there is no such thing as Prince Charmings anymore. Not in this world.”
Eros whistled slowly, the sound low in his throat as he watched the girl who owned my sinful thoughts. My heart sped up even more with lottery winning luck that I didn’t have a heart attack, only to nearly give out entirely when her hazy, drunken green eyes met my own. Lights danced across her skin with hues of varied purple from the overhead lights, nearly swallowing her form.
My tongue dipped out to my bottom lip as I raked my gaze down the front of my little devil, down to the swollen peak of her tits, all the way to her narrow waistline, but wide hips, and finally to her thighs before slowly raising them again.
If a gothic Barbie existed, then she would’ve fit the bill perfectly.
“So, if there aren’t Prince Charmings, then what do princesses think about?” Eros whispered darkly, appreciating the gaze of sin incarnate in front of us.
I was going to give him another black eye if he didn’t fucking stop.
