He tilts his head slightly as he studies me. “What...what’s happening? Did you go into that fucking pause mode of yours?”
My brows draw together in a frown. “Me? What? No! You’re the one who paused,” I say, and then I think, fuck it. He’s not going in for the kill. Time to alpha up and show this beast how to get it done. It’s up to me. But right as I grab the back of his neck and try to pull his face toward mine, someone knocks on the stupid door.
“Come in!” Jerif barks.
“Don’t come in!” I try to bark just as loudly.
Of course, Strut comes in. Judgmental eyes fall on where I’m sitting on the floor as Grumpy Lurch walks over with a covered tray. “Master Rafferty sent this up to help with her...condition.”
He makes it sound like I’m diseased instead of just a little tipsy.
“Thanks, Strut.”
The butler sets the tray down beside us and bows slightly before shooting a look at the bedding beneath my ass, probably irked beyond measure that it’s on the floor, and then leaves the room.
Jerif reaches over, plucking the lid off the tray. For all that fanciness, there’s just a couple bottles of water and four pieces of toast underneath. The lava demon slides it over. “Here. Eat. Drink,” he orders gruffly.
“I don’t want to eat or drink,” I say, my tone going for seductive but landing on belligerent.
“Don’t care.”
My lips pinch together with unhappiness. “I thought you were going to kiss me,” I say with annoyance as I snatch up a piece of toast and start chomping on it.
“I was,” he says as he braces himself on his hands behind him, leaning back and stretching out his legs so that his calf settles against my own crossed legs. “But then I realized something.”
I roll my eyes because I already know what he’s going to say. I’m too drunk. He doesn’t want to do anything while I have a triple serving of demon spirits in me, yadda, yadda, yadda.
Jerif goes on, despite the silent argument I’m coming up with in my head as I eat the first piece of toast and then chug some of the water. “I realized…” he says slowly, like he’s waiting to make sure he has my full attention, “that I can’t just kiss you right now.”
“Why not?” I say with disappointment as I set the bottle of water down and start nibbling on another piece of toast.
“Because. The second I kiss you, the second I taste you, this,” he says, motioning between the two of us. “This is gonna combust. And I’m going to let it.”
My chewing stops abruptly, and I have to work to swallow down the toast as I stare at him, hearing what he’s saying. “Oh.”
He looks at me with that serious face of his. “Yeah, oh. So eat your toast and drink your water and sit here with me while your demon blood burns through the alcohol,” he says in a bossy tone. “Because then I’m going to burn through you.”
Oh God.
I swear to fuck, my stomach just heard him, and it’s started barking out orders to all of my internal organs to hurry up and digest everything double-time so that we can get us some of that lava demon lovin’.
Jerif reaches forward and closes my mouth for me, since I guess I went all slack-jawed on him. I immediately start eating again, and the corner of his lips tilts up slightly, pleased.
I eat faster than I ever have before, managing to take down all four pieces of toast and both bottles of water. When I’m done, I get to my feet, noting that I’m not as wobbly. My bladder is full again, so I head into the attached bathroom, which has the same wood inlays that are on the bedroom floor, as countertops. I pee and then quickly wash my hands before taking a look in the mirror. There’s a flushed look to my face, like my cheeks are preheating for him.
Coming back out, I find that the curtains are all drawn, dropping the room into darkness, and the only thing casting off light is the now-lit fireplace. I walk over to it, transfixed by the pretty flames. They swirl and sway in a way that makes them look just a hint abnormal, like they’re dancing instead of just burning the logs stacked behind the glass.
“That’s pretty,” I murmur as I lie back down on the comforter. I let my head rest against the pillow, scrunching it up so that I’m propped up enough to watch the flames dance.
Jerif grunts, but I smile across at him where he’s still resting back against his hands. For a few minutes, I just watch the flames as they turn sensually around each other, moving to the tune of their own crackles and sparks. Jerif watches me.
I sit up and lift up my hand, appreciating the soft glow the fire emits on my skin as I look over at Jerif. “What’s it like having fire power?” I ask curiously.
His eyes briefly go to the flames before settling back on my face. “It can be addictive,” he admits. “I’ve always had more of an issue tamping it down instead of not having enough power. I have to expel it often, or it gets uncomfortable, like when you eat too much food and you feel like you need to hurl.”
“Nice visual.”
“You asked,” he counters.
Can’t argue that. “Is that why no electric lights?” I wonder.
“Yes,” he replies. “Being able to expel my power for everyday little things helps to take the edge off.”
I nod and scoot over to him, taking his dark hand in mine. He lets me, though his body tenses. I really want to see him lose the tension that radiates off of him. I want to see what Jerif
