Trust fall!
I suddenly drop back like I’m about to make the sweetest snow angel on the carpet, but warm arms catch me instead, fucking with my carpet angel plans.
“Spin me!” I demand of whoever is holding me.
“Being that you almost hurled your guts up just from flying around, I’m going to go with no to the spinning,” Jerif grumps as he holds me, and I just laugh.
“Jerif, why don’t you take Delta upstairs to lie down? She should burn the booze off soon, and we’ll show Tazreel around the property and Gate, give him a peek at what we do here,” Iceman directs.
Jerif doesn’t say a word, but I can tell he complies, as I’m whisked out of the room. I’ve never been whisked before, and I’m debating how I feel about it, when Jerif adjusts his hold on me and his arms rub against my disgusting, but oddly sensitive, wings.
“Ooohhhhh, do that again,” I command.
“No.”
“Ughhhh, why are you a thief of joy?” I demand. “You know you want to touch me.”
“If by touch, you mean tuck your drunk, hot ass mess into bed, then yes, I do want to touch you.”
“Knew it,” I declare smugly.
Jerif knees a massive door open, and I suddenly find myself in a very cozy, modern looking room. The walls are black and as smooth looking as Jerif’s skin. Above the huge platform bed with all black bedding, there’s a massive canvas that looks like a big fluffy ash cloud. At first, I think it’s an enormous picture that almost takes up the whole wall, but as I get closer to the bed, I realize it’s a painting with thick layers that are so well stroked, they look soft as cotton.
I look down to discover a rich warm wood floor, but it’s not a typical hardwood like I’ve seen in other places in the mansion. It looks like it’s made of long flat pieces of tree trunk, inlaid to become what we’re stepping on.
“Yassss,” I call out as I’m carried deeper into the beautiful and comforting space. It’s minimalistic and yet very welcoming, which is nothing like the demon who lives in it. I chuckle at that. Well, maybe he is minimalistic, what do I know?
“Jerif, your lair has tree carcasses,” I observe with awe, still staring at the ground.
I also notice a sitting area with black couches and chairs facing a beautiful fireplace that’s so big a car could easily park inside of it. If the fireplace weren’t glassed off, that is. I point at the fireplace and the pretty tree flooring in front of it and decide that it’s calling to my ass. I must say that out loud, because Jerif snorts, and then like a good Wee Demon, he redirects us there.
“What’s with you and your ass these days?” he asks me, as taciturn as ever.
“What, it’s not a good ass?” I ask, trying and failing to look at it. “It’s totally a good ass,” I decide before he can answer.
Jerif snags a blanket and a pillow from the bed and spreads them onto the floor before setting me down gently on the black comforter. I immediately sink down on it and realize it’s a down comforter. I want to marry it and have its soft little feather blanket babies.
“You’re so weird,” Jerif observes after clearly getting the pleasure of hearing another drunken thought come flying right out of my unfiltered mouth.
I roll my eyes and scan his digs again. “So is this where you bring all the ladies and show ’em your stick-straight pubes?” I tease, immediately trying to get up so I can go raid his bathroom in search of the cabbage patch.
“Get back here,” he grunts, pulling me into him as he sits down on the rug.
“No way, man, I want to snoop!” I argue petulantly.
“Isn’t it only snooping if you do it when I’m not sitting right here?”
I shrug. “Close your eyes?”
He shakes his head, but I see the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. Excitement shoots through me like I’m hearing lotto numbers that match what I have on a ticket, and I stare at the little baby smile like it’s the cutest fucking thing ever.
“Omg, you totally almost did it!” I clap.
“Did what?”
“Smiled! Like a person who feels shit other than judgment and the desire to punch things.”
Jerif sighs and then cups my face and pulls my lips to his. I mumble surprise against his soft lips, and he pulls away slightly to let me speak.
“Um, not that I’m complaining at all, but...what are you doing?”
“Kissing you so you’ll stop talking,” he replies evenly.
I pause for a minute and then close my eyes and pucker up.
Well...okay then.
16
Nothing happens.
I open my eyes and find Jerif just looking at me. So I stare right back, still puckered up like the weirdo he claimed I was. Our lips aren’t even an inch apart, and I’m frozen in place, waiting to see what he’s going to do.
Should I start talking again? That seemed to kick-start something.
I debate the best plan of action to start getting some action, but decide I don’t want to move. Maybe I spooked him. I quickly decide that maybe I have to treat Jerif like a wild wolf approaching a human for the first time. Any sudden movements or noises and he could run. Just like his baby smile did when I cooed at it.
I really want him to kiss me.
Every time I look at his plush bottom lip, I think about biting down on it. Every time I see the fiery balayage of his hair, I want to sink my fingers through the locks and stroke the flames. We’ve been building up to this moment, constantly charged with sexual aggression, and I don’t want to screw this up. So I stay perfectly still. I don’t even think I’m breathing. But
