Page 54 of Creatures of Chaos

“Or, I have a better idea,” Ensley says with a grin. “We blackmail the council into holding off. Or better yet, changing that rule altogether. It’s antiquated and outdated. The dragon heir should be able to pick his own life-mate.”

I almost choke on nothing. “You want to blackmail some of the most powerful dragon shifters on the planet?”

She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “There’s little I wouldn’t do for my family. And just for the record, that includes you.”

I love her. “Same.”

“Besides, we don’t need to blackmail all of them. We only need to get one on board and then let him or her convince the rest.”

“I can’t believe I’m considering this.”

“But you are.”

I nod. “Yes, I am. It’s crazy, but it might just work. You really are an evil mastermind, you know that?”

She fluffs her hair. “Yeah, I know.” She takes so much pride in the title it makes me laugh.

“Okay, if we’re going to brainstorm, I’m going to need sustenance.”

“The energy drinks and chips are where they always are,” she says, knowing exactly what I want.

“Be right back,” I say, and hop off her bed and slip out of the room to hit up the extra fridge in their six-car garage, and then head to the kitchen and grab a bag of potato chips. With my arms loaded, I turn to leave the kitchen and find Becks standing in the doorway in low slung gray joggers and a black t-shirt tight around his arms, the bottom half of his dragon tattoo visible. He looks good, too good, and my mouth goes dry as he stares at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Becks,” I say, my heart beating in my throat.

I’ve been in this kitchen with Becks hundreds, maybe thousands of times before, but never with the air so charged as it is now.

His gaze slides over me and I swear I feel it like a physical caress.

“I’m hanging out with Ensley,” I say unnecessarily. “I just felt like a snack.” I hold up the drink and chips as if he can’t already see them in my hands.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, and then slowly walks toward me, his gaze never leaving my face.

I should leave, I really should, but my feet are rooted in place.

He comes to a stop right in front of me, close enough that the heat coming off his body brushes against me and I can count the dark flecks in his green eyes.

“I’m feeling like something salty too,” he says, and ever so slowly reaches over my shoulder to open the cabinet door behind me where they store their junk food. I shift back to give him more space until my lower spine bumps into the counter and I can’t retreat any farther.

With his gaze still locked with mine, he stretches up to grab something on the top shelf, which brings him even closer.

Gah. He smells amazing.

His shirt rides up to reveal a sliver of tight abs, and then his chest brushes my shoulder before he backs away with a bag of pretzels in his hand.

My skin is tight and over-sensitized, and I can’t stop myself from imagining him running his palms up my arms. I try to remind myself that I’m still mad at him, but my body doesn’t seem to care.

One of us should be leaving right now, but neither of us move an inch. We just stand there staring at each other. Me with a bag of chips and an energy drink clutched to my chest, and Becks with a bag of pretzels clenched in his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I should have never tried to dictate who you could see or talk to.” He sighs. “The beast inside just goes nuts lately when it comes to you. I’m finding it harder to control myself. I don’t know why.”

With his free hand, he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, gently trailing his knuckles down my throat before pulling away.

My mind goes completely blank. All I can concentrate on are the sensations he just brought forth with that single light touch. I lick my lower lip, my hands starting to shake with how badly I want to grab his face and bring him closer. His gaze drops to my mouth and just like in the caverns, I think that’s what he wants as well.

Someone clears their throat and I start, dropping the chips and drink. The can explodes when it hits the hardwood floor, shooting sticky sugary liquid all over the floor, cabinets, and Becks’ and my legs.

Becks quickly grabs some paper towels and starts mopping up the mess, and I turn to see Ensley standing with her hands on her hips. “I was checking to see if you got lost,” she says with a barely contained smile that makes the corners of her mouth twitch.

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