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Trillian snorted. “That shyster could have burned me to a crisp with one word. He would have put you to the test, that’s for sure. Don’t underestimate him because he’s Svartan. Some of my people could take on your people and actually win.” His eyes flashed, and I knew he was dangling bait.
And, of course, Smoky took it. “I never underestimate anyone—”
Trillian let out a snort. “Right. You underestimate everyone. You’re the big bad Dragon-Dude so nobody can touch you, nobody can—”
Smoky laughed, but it wasn’t an altogether friendly laugh. “And how many really can? Well, demons, yes, but humans? Most of the Fae? Even you have to admit that very few people can harm me, while you, on the other hand—”
“Right, I can be hurt and I know it. But you won’t even admit the possibility, you big lizard—”
I jumped up. “Enough, you baboons! Seriously. Enough. You managed to make it all the way to Otherworld and back without killing each other. Now you go at it? Really? You think I want to hear this? Trillian, stop baiting Smoky. And Smoky, do you always have to fall for his games?”
And then Morio had to get into it. He coughed. “What I want to know is how did the two of you actually manage the trip without Camille along to keep the peace?”
Smoky let out a hrmph. “I’ll have you know…” He stopped, and a smile cracked his face. “We made a pact before we left. We agreed on a truce.”
I stared at the two of them. “You actually had to form a truce in order to coexist for a twenty-four-hour trip?” With the stress of the day wearing on me, the ridiculousness of the situation was too much. I dropped back in my chair, laughing so hard I started to cry. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m married to a couple of teenagers.”
“Teenagers, you say?” Trillian gave Smoky a long look, who nodded.
A tendril of his hair rose up and crept across the back of my shoulders. I jumped, but the soft creep of the strands played across my skin, tickling me, stroking so gently that it sent shivers down my spine. I tried to shrug it off, but Smoky kept on, grinning the entire time.
“Okay, you stop it right now!” Though I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted him to stop. There was something sensuous about the feeling, and I was tired and the stroking felt good, in an annoying way.
Smoky reached over and gently took hold of one of my wrists as Trillian held the other. Another strand of Smoky’s hair slipped under my skirts to coil around my thighs.
I shrieked. “Okay, okay! I give up.”
“Do you really want me to stop, Camille?” The huskiness in his voice as it lingered over my name made me catch my breath. His hair slowed its caress, the tendrils trailing along my inner thighs. “All you have to do is say the word.”
I blushed as Delilah started to laugh. She leaned her head against Shade’s shoulder; he was trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably. Vanzir and Roz were eating with snarky grins on their faces. But Shamas was scowling, intent on his food.
“Do you? Want me to stop?” Again, the steady tap, tap, tap, of Smoky’s hair on my thigh, like fingers gently rapping on a table.
I was tired, and my bruises had bruises. I glanced at all three of my men. They waited, expectantly, and I could feel their anticipation. A wave of heat made its way up my body, emanating from the point where Smoky’s hair was stroking me, and I realized I was wet and hungry for them. It was all I could do to not squirm in my seat. I sucked in a deep breath. Their desire had transferred to me, and now all I wanted to do was race upstairs and fuck their brains out. Thank you, Soul Symbiont ritual.
I glanced sideways at Morio and Trillian. Morio slowly, deliberately mouthed, Bed. Now.
“What the hell. We need a nap. If Chase calls, tell him we need an hour or two to regroup. Nothing else better happen, because for the next twelve hours, I can’t take another emergency situation.” I slowly rose. “We’ll be in our rooms resting—”
Shade let out a burst of laughter. “Oh, we know what you’ll be doing.” But he winked again and went back to his meal. “Meanwhile, we’ll clean up, and get some rest ourselves. Won’t we, Pussy-Cat?” He purred at Delilah, who blushed but grinned back at him.
“Just as long as clean up means a shower and not a bath. You know I hate baths.”
And with that, Smoky let out a throaty laugh and swept me up into his arms. “Come on, wife. Your men have needs. And so do you.”
Trillian and Morio pushed back their chairs, and amid a roomful of laughter, we headed up the stairs. All the way, the only thing I could think about were my men, their hands, and our bed.
Chapter 13
The bedroom was warm, so Trillian opened the window. Smoky set me down and turned me around, resting his hands on my waist. Trillian stepped in front of me. Slowly, with a firm hand and a faint smile playing across his face, he unhooked the metal busks of my corset.
The energy in the room was thick and heavy, like right before a thunderstorm, and I quivered under his touch. Smoky caught hold of my corset when it fell open and set it aside.
I stood there, breasts heavy and waiting, nipples rising as Trillian thumbed one, squeezing it just hard enough to make my stomach lurch. He turned me a quarter turn, and Smoky took hold of my skirt’s waistband, unzipping it, easing it down to the ground. Holding Trillian’s hands for balance, I stepped out of the garment.
He kept my hands in his, his gaze locked on my face, his lips curved up at the very edges. As I stared at him, the images of the dead witches and Fae sprawled through my thoughts. I couldn’t shake them out, couldn’t shake them loose. It was too reminiscent of Henry Jeffries’s death. He’d been a friend, he’d worked for me in the Indigo Crescent bookstore, and his love of my store had gotten him killed. Aching with the weariness only a long, protracted battle can bring, I let out a little cry as the stress and strain of the day welled up.
“I need to stop thinking. I need to get out of my head.” My words were more a plea than anything.
