Page 68 of Spit

I hissed at him in warning and pushed him through the curtain first, making sure it was snapped shut behind us before I spoke. I knitted my fingers together, confusion bleeding into fear—why had I bought Trey into the fitting room?

My cheeks turned red. “I’m so sorry.” I stuttered. “I just—”

Trey held up his hand, cutting me off midsentence. “It’s alright.” He said. “Did you need a minute?”

“I don’t know what that was.” I pushed my fingers through my hair. “Those women were talking, and I just—”

“Wanted to stake your claim?” Trey seemed amused rather than annoyed.

“They were talking about you like a piece of meat.” I began to pace the tightly enclosed space.

Trey sat down on the leather pouf in the corner, making himself comfortable. “We’re all meat, in a way.”

“Why do demons have to be so vague and obtuse?” I griped as I shot him an annoyed look.

“Pot, meet kettle,” Trey smirked.

I glanced down at my feet, reminded that I hadn’t seen my shadow in a while. Unfortunately, the bugger was nowhere to be seen, though I could feel his presence like an elastic band stretched too tightly, about to snap in my face.

I turned back to Trey, studying him in a new light. From the square jaw, peppered with scruff, to his hair that couldn’t quite decide if it was honey or chestnut, depending on the light. His brow was heavy, his eyes almond-shaped and a strange yellow color. I knew that demons could shapeshift and that when they wore a human façade, it wasn’t their true form. The one they had when they were made.

But even I could admit that Trey was gorgeous. Like a Viking, tall and built, save for the roman nose—with a slight bump.

I reached up and touched my own cheek, unconsciously comparing our faces. I had no idea what I was feeling. I had squashed any emotion that might lead to… the swapping of bodily fluids… for so long that I wasn’t sure I was even capable of wanting anymore.

Being in the Red City awakened something inside of me. And it frightened the ever-loving heck out of it.

Trey spread his legs further, sitting the way men did when they unconsciously wanted to take up as much space as possible. “Did you want the women out there to think that we are in here, fucking?” Trey’s daffodil eyes hooded as he looked up at me. “Did you want them to know that I am yours?”

My voice stuck in my throat like toffee. “Trey?” I whispered. “I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” He shrugged. “Can’t kiss? Can’t stick my tongue between these thighs? Can raw dog you? Come on, princess, tell me what I can’t do.”

I felt his words between my legs as if I were an instrument and he had strummed my strings just right. I shivered, unable to stop the avalanche of images that fluttered in front of my eyes.

I knew how I looked. Burning cheeks, eyes glassy and wanting. I was certain that the poor little touch-starved null witch would be a pity fuck—butdeath and darkness, I was tempted.

Trey was the first person I had confided to in the Red City about my curse. Maybe I was a baby duckling, imprinting on the first person to show me attention and kindness.

I turned back to the curtain, easing it away from the wall just a crack to see if the women were still on the shop floor.

I felt Trey’s heat against my back. His hand covered mine as I gripped the curtain. His lips were so close to my cheek that I felt his breath against the shell if my ear.

“Are they still out there?” He whispered. “Should we give them a show?”

My stomach twisted, and nervous butterflies traveled from my middle until they occupied my whole body. “Yes,” I said, unsure what question I was answering and not caring.

Trey chuckled. “Good girl.”

I shivered, my head resting on his chest, right between his pectorals. My fist tightened, ruffling the fabric; the dull hum of the busy shop on the other side of the curtain sent a thrill through me. Every inch of my skin was alive as if it would lift from my bones.

“You can’t.” Whose voice was that? Husky and wonton. It certainly didn’t sound like mine.

“But I can.” He argued as he placed a kiss on the seam of my jaw. “You said that your saliva was the issue.”

“And my… um…”

“Yes. Your wet pussy.” He hummed.

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