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Looking to my right I expected to see Tristan's bruiting face, but he was nowhere to be found. Typical of him to abandon a post when things got messy. I started to turn to my left before remembering that Jayson already left and I was alone.
And then he's in front of me, dark eyes so close I can make out the gunmetal flakes within and I have the sudden, fleeting urge to paint those eyes. To capture their essence on canvas. To drown in silver paint until it covered every inch of my skin. Not to mention he smells amazing and I want to dunk his whole head in the ocean just to get rid of the crawling scent.
Placing my hands on my hips, I looked up at him.
“You must really hate being alone,” I told him, watching as his eyes darken in confusion as I circled my finger around the party,
“Certainly throw a lot of parties. Almost enough to never have a moment to oneself.” His gray eyes fill with glittered amusement,
“Are you trying to get me alone Blondie?” He smirks, the devastating half-smile making an appearance, and I try and fail to ignore the detrimental effect it has on my insides,
“No,” I reply, failing to hold back my blush. The sight of my pink skin only seemed to add fuel to Kaleb’s galaxy eyes, and I never took mine off him as he took another step closer to me, the gap between us disappearing before my eyes.
“Well, I’m here now. Care to tell me what you want from me?” I demanded, my patience already growing thin from the disadvantage I had at being on his turf. His smile turned downright sinister at my sass, and I decided right then and there that no guy should be able to look that good while promising bad things to come.
Kaleb was dangerous. Probably more powerful than he’d ever known (although not for lack of boasting). Guys like him could rule the world. And I hated that I needed him. That in the next few moments he would be added to the list of people who held power over me.
And I didn't even know his last name.
“Oh, I want many many things from you, Blondie,” he declares, his fingers running absently over the words on the inside of my wrist, my mother's words, I don't even think he even realizes he's doing it.
“Cute hair,” he remarked as his eyes trace my body, and I’m suddenly extremely conscious of the way I must look in my ripped thrift jeans and threadbare black tee, my hair thrown up haphazardly into two top buns. In the midst of all this city glitter, I look like a washed-up sea shell that broke in half amongst the waves.
Out of place. Forgotten. Broken as usual.
But guessing from the way his smirk widens he already knew that. Knew it and enjoyed getting off on my discomfort. On making me squirm.
But what Kaleb didn't know was that I had my own tricks. My own deals up my sleeve. He wasn't the only one with power in this game or with cards to play.
And like the foolish girl I am, I was about to show him my hand.
“We need to talk.” I declare, refusing to break eye contact with him. His fingers tighten on my wrist before letting me go like I’ve burned him.
“Well then talk.” The words come out distant, detached, and if I didn't know any better, I’d say he was mentally putting space between himself and I. Throwing away whatever emotions he had laid bare a moment ago.
Suppressing an eye roll at his teenage moodiness I try again,
“In private” I growl glancing around at all the onlookers. This party was crawling with people and while I could manage swallowing my pride for a moment, I really didn't want an audience while doing it.
His eyes darken and I’m sure he's about to refuse when he surprises me by grabbing hold of my hand and hauling me towards one of the white silk bungalows lining the pool. Shoving me inside, his fingers grip mine before pushing me onto a padded chair. Tristan and Jayson appear from thin air and I realize that whatever this is, he had planned it. And whatever power I had thought I had over him was nothing but a joke.
“I told you if you wanted me alone all you had to do was ask.” Kaleb smiles playfully, tapping my nose like I’m a pathetic child who needs to learn a lesson.
“We’re not exactly alone.” I scowl, glancing briefly towards Tristan and Jayson, who if I’m not mistaken seem even closer than before, their bodies nearly pressing against mine in the white leather chair.
Kaleb ignores my comment as he comes to a kneel before me, his palms snaking up my jean-clad legs.
I ignore the shiver that crawls up my spine at his touch.
In my peripheral I see Jayson approaching from behind, his hand reaching out to graze my left breast before giving it a ruff squeeze. Kaleb growls, the sound utterly possessive and Tristan shoots a warning look at the blond god. But Jayson is oblivious to their protests and keeps rubbing my nipple, causing me to squirm, the white leather chair chafing against my skin.
Kaleb's grip on my thighs tightens, and I suppress a yelp as he presses his mouth against the rip in my jeans, his tongue caressing the skin there, licking underneath the fabric until a strange sort of heat fills my core. His tongue dips in and out and I watch while Jayson continues to tease my left nipple until it pebbles. Tristan just stands there, watching the whole thing, a stoic expression in place.
“You have something of mine,” Kaleb whispers after he's removed his dirty mouth from my skin,
“I want it back.” He states in a dark, no-nonsense tone, the playfulness in his eyes evaporating.
“I can't give it back,” I whisper, the words coming out less sure than I intended.
