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“Hey, Teague!” Khloë gave him a big wave from her seat on the sofa.
He flashed her a warm smile. “Hey there, gorgeous.”
Keenan looked at Larkin, his lips pressed tightly together. “It really doesn’t bother you that he calls another woman ‘gorgeous’?”
Khloë shot the incubus a look of annoyance. “Stop trying to stir the pot. That’s my job. I like it. You can’t have it.”
As the mated pair began to argue, Teague returned his focus to Larkin and lightly dragged the tip of his nose up her throat. “Damn, you smell good.” You smell even better when you’re wet for me, he telepathically added.
Her stomach did another crazy flip. Oh, so that’s how tonight is going to go?
Releasing her hip, he slid his hand up her side. If you’re asking if I intend to dedicate some of our evening into taunting the holy hell out of you, the answer is yes. As if to emphasize that, he swiped his thumb over the outer side of her breast through her dress—the touch was featherlight but made her nipples tingle. You made it clear that I needed to step up my game. I’m a man who rises to every challenge.
I didn’t challenge you. It’s all in your head. “We’re just waiting on Piper and Levi. They should be here any—” She cut off as a rhythmic knock sounded on the door. “And here they are.”
Shortly after Larkin let the couple inside her apartment, Ciaran teleported their entire group to the outside of the monastery. The building was tall and wide, constructed of pure stone. There was a beautiful cathedral nearby, along with what looked to be an expansive cemetery.
The double doors leading to the monastery’s massive hall were wide open, and two descendants were manning them. Offering them hellos and tips of the chin, Larkin and her group filed inside the dimly lit space.
The party was already in full swing, so maybe someone had decided to start it early. If it wasn’t for the music blasting, the array of food on the long-ass tables, and the demons gathered on the makeshift dance floor, it would not have been easy to guess that there was a celebration going on.
There were no banners or fairy lights on the white, roughhewn stone walls. No balloons stretching up toward the high-vaulted ceiling that boasted broad beams. No foil party curtain that dangled down the arched opening on the other side of the large space.
There were some lanterns and votive candles here and there, along with stunning floral centerpieces that were made up of red and black roses, but that was pretty much it.
Sidling up to her, Teague planted his hand low down on her back, resting the heel of his palm right above her butt. The bold touch was a little too proprietary for her liking, but her demon had no issues with it.
Larkin shot him a quick look. “Watch where you put your hand.” She wasn’t going to let him take advantage of their necessity to engage in a little PDA.
His gaze locked on the aforementioned hand, he said, “I am watching. You have no idea how many fantasies I’ve had about your ass.”
“Just my ass?”
He shrugged, meeting her gaze. “The rest of you is all right, I guess.”
Larkin discreetly elbowed him hard, but he only chuckled.
Pulling her flush against him, he put his mouth to her ear. “I think I proved the other night that it isn’t only your—”
“We’re not going to talk about what happened the other night.”
He bit her earlobe. “Why not?”
She dug her nails into his chest. “Because I said so.”
“Why do you say so?”
“Because I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why don’t you?”
Larkin pinched his side, her lips flattening when he chuckled even as he flinched. “Behave.” She glanced around, taking in the many guests. Most were descendants, but there were some imps hanging around.
The Black Saints were also there, including their president, Viper. The fallen angels had formed an MC club straight after falling over a year ago, from what she’d learned. There wasn’t much to learn about the Black Saints.
She knew they were allied with Maddox and Raini’s lair, and she knew they owned a club that had quickly become quite popular. While it was rumored that Viper could be a fallen archangel—perhaps even one of the infamous seven—he’d allegedly never confirmed or denied it.
Teague slid his hand all the way up her spine and then idly plucked at the wispy little curls on her nape, his own gaze scanning the hall. There was nothing sexual about his touch. And yet, her skin began to heat and prickle.
Annoyed by how frazzled her body got around him, Larkin huffed at the big bastard. “Would you give me some space?”
“Why, you feeling faint from all the seductive pheromones I’m giving off?”
God, he was a loon.
