My phone buzzed again and I pushed the covers aside, my eyes cracking open the smallest amount as I foolishly tried to cling to sleep.
I had one foot on the cool floorboards when Saint’s voice reached me. “No more kneeling outside the crypt.”
I turned to him, wondering if he’d just spoken in his sleep or if someone else was doing a perfect impression of his voice because why the hell would he say that? “Um, what?”
“You heard me, Barbie.” His eyes were still closed, like he couldn’t bear to open them a moment before six am. “I only wish for you to kneel from now on when you want to kneel,” he said, his voice gaining a seductive edge which made my body quiver.
When I want to kneel? Holy shit.
“Why?” I demanded, still not trusting him.
“Because I said so,” he growled. “Now come back to bed.”
Well hell if I’m gonna question that order. I slid back under the covers, a moan escaping me as I rolled over, hugging the pillow that Saint had placed between us. He had rolled towards me too, his hand resting on the pillow almost like he’d been reaching for me in the night. But even wholly unconscious, I knew Saint wouldn’t break my rules. Although…he had come pretty close last night. I bit my lip as I thought about the press of his hard length between my thighs. I kind of hated myself for how good that had felt, how much I’d ached for him. If there was a soul in the world who was the least deserving of my body, it was him. So why had I yearned for his touch yesterday? Why had I started to think it might be okay to forget our hate for one night and just indulge in the darkest fantasies our minds could conjure?
Not gonna think about it.
My eyes fell closed and I smiled as I realised I had a whole hour and a half longer to sleep. That was until six am ticked around and Clair de Lune by Debussy poured through the speakers all around his room. It was way louder up here than anywhere else in The Temple and that was saying something.
I groaned, shoving my head under my pillow and pressing it down against my ear.
I felt Saint’s weight shift from the bed and the music dimmed in the room as if he’d turned off the speakers in here. I pushed the pillow back and watched as he got ready for his workout then jogged downstairs out of sight. I was left speechless. Did he just do something nice for me?
Do not think into it. Saint Memphis doesn’t do nice for anyone unless it benefits himself.
I couldn’t sleep after that though. My mind was firing off thoughts which had no business being in my head. Does Saint actually have a conscience deep under all those layers of ice? Impossible.
I finally got up, having wasted my extra time in bed, then I headed downstairs and started making breakfast for everyone.
When Saint appeared from the crypt, I tried my best not to eye-fuck him in all his sweaty, hardened muscle glory, focusing on serving up the food I’d made instead as he walked upstairs.
Blake appeared next, strolling toward me as he stretched his arms above his head, his bare torso rippling with endless muscle. The world was testing me today.
I held out his plate of pancakes and he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my cheek, leaving a burning mark there as he thanked me and walked away. Um, did I travel into an alternate reality in my sleep last night? Saint being nice, then Blake kissing me like a prince. I thought we’d stopped playing that game?
Kyan appeared from the direction of his room, his face a heavy scowl, his eyes two hollow pits of death.
Nope, still in the same world.
I hated that we still weren’t talking. Despite the fact that he was a douchebag who I’d officially called out on his douchbaggery, I actually missed the old Kyan. The playful, fun Kyan who brought out a wild side in me that made me feel alive.
I put his plate down on the counter and planted myself in front of it as he stalked forward to take it. He tried to reach past me and I held my arms out as a barrier.
“Morning, Kyan,” I said brightly.
He grunted, surveying me like I was a mild irritation to his day. It cut deep. I didn’t want Kyan to look at me like that even though I’d wanted to hurt him. But he’d hurt me first and had never felt an ounce of guilt over it. So why should I?
“Did you sleep okay?” I asked.
He pushed me aside, grabbing his breakfast and turning his back on me as he headed over to the table and dropped into his usual spot.
Anger pooled inside me, masking the ache he’d left too. I might have been forced to clean and cook for them, but a bit of gratitude didn’t go amiss.
Saint appeared at eight on the dot and I placed his food in front of him as required.
It wasn’t in the rules for me to sit and eat with them and as I glanced at the stony look of indifference on Kyan’s face, I realised I
