Page 116 of Creatures that Breathe

She levels me with a frosted stare, arches a single pale blue eyebrow, “You’ve just wrenched all your bargaining chips from your body. What incentive would I have to play another one of your games?”

“You answer my questions.” I plant a kiss on her lips. “And I’ll tell you a secret.”

“A secret from the keeper himself.” she smiles. “Is Pandora as much of a bitch as everyone says?”

“You want a free sample?”

She nods at her still spread knees. “You got one.”

And it nearly killed me. “Alright. Yes, Pandora’s more Olympian than immortal these days.”

She rises to her elbows. “What if that’s all I wanted to know?”

Not a chance. I know her, know her mind is a sand trap for secrets and information. She revels in it same as I do. “Let me assure you, love. When you win, I’ll reveal the secret you desire most of all. And if it doesn’t satisfy you, I’ll divulge the sordid laundry of every uprising in history until you know more than any dusty textbook.”

Her icy eyes flash with interest, and I bite back a smile. See, we are the same. I offered her what I’d want in her place. Of course she likes it.

Her chin lifts, princess-y and dazzling. “You’d surrender the secrets of the Gods for answers from me? I hope Atlas doesn’t allow you to negotiate.”

“Or you underestimate how desperate I am to unravel you.”

A frustrated sound catches in her throat. “Fine then. How many questions?”

My eyes lock on her mouth. “Atlas should put you in charge of negotiations.” I manage to look as serious as I sound because she stiffens, smiles. “We’ll play until the end.”

She laughs. “And when is that?”

“Either the second or third time you come on me.”

Her mouth falls open, and I have to readjust the overexcited rod in my pants with my palm.

“Should we start?” She’s still gaping, eyes taking up half her face, so I move forward without an answer. “What’s this?” I bend over her to trace the row of black numbers above her knee. “Lucky numbers from a fortune cookie?”

“Coordinates of my home. In case I ever want to return. Sometimes—” I lick the tattoo and she gasps, body tensing.

“Sometimes?” I prompt, gazing up at her with a truly insidious smile.

Her eyes are no longer frost. They’re pure ice, and I think she’s just figured out the fun in this game.

She grits her teeth. “Sometimes, I worry about losing my way. My wrist has Waikiki beach.”

“Couldn’t believe you’d ever forget anything.” She remembers me.

“There’s a first time for everything.” Despite her smooth tone, her knees are vises on my thighs.

I decide not to remove her shirt or my pants. Instead, I kneel, letting my forearm drape along her ribs as I place gentle kisses on her belly, and trace the contours of a tattoo on the swell of his hip. “And what’s this one?”

“It’s—” I kiss it and she giggles. Shoves hands at me. I’m grinning, licking and sucking her skin as she laughs and squirms. “Stop!”

She’s ticklish. Gods above, I adore that she’s ticklish.

A swell of acute lust rolls through me and I stop it with razor sharp restraint. Wait for her to wipe her eyes. Her smile is radiant, dims the glow of the sun. “It’s my favorite scale. E minor. I play the piano. Horribly, but it might be the only real skill I have.”

“Besides cards, being brave and brilliant, negotiating—”

“I’m already in your bed you can stop.” She’s wry, flushed.

I let this time go because I’m impatient, but there’s nothing in the realm I want more than for her to realize her true value. “Tell me about all of your tattoos. Every one. Take me on the tour.”

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