Page 99 of Dead Heat

I didn’t find laziness sexy, but somehow Kane’s smile managed to be both.

“Because I’m only now revealing it.” He offered his hand and led me upstairs to the roof where a smattering of soft cushions awaited us, along with a bottle and two glasses. “Drink?”

“I think I’d better. I feel like I’m going to need it for this conversation you’ve clearly been planning to have.”

He held up a bottle of Puck’s Pleasure and my jaw unhinged. “Another one? Where did you get it?” I’d once told him that I missed my favorite drink, an incredibly rare vintage I’d discovered in London, and he managed to obtain a bottle for me.

“It took a bit of time, but I was able to track down a shipment intended for someone else. Remember the delivery that Dantalion went to pick up in the city the other day?”

“You had him steal it?” That didn’t seem very Kane-like.

“No, I had him negotiate a better deal.”

“Does that mean you were able to get twelve bottles of it?”

His mouth tugged apart at the corners. “Does that please you?”

“Everything you do pleases me. It’s becoming a problem.”

“Oh?” He produced a single sharp claw and used it to extract the cork.

“I guess your flaming sword would’ve been overkill.”

He retracted the claw. “Being a monster has its uses.”

“You’re not a monster, Kane. Far from it.”

He passed a full glass to me. “I’m glad to hear it.”

I made myself comfortable on the cushions, and he settled beside me. “This is cozy,” I said.

“There’s a lot happening. It’s healthy to step away from the chaos on occasion and simply be present.”

I was far too conscious of Kane’s hip touching mine to be anywhere else.

“Now that we’re settled with drinks in hand, tell me why pleasing you is a problem. Don’t you think you deserve to feel pleasure?”

“It isn’t about what I deserve. It’s just … I’m not used to it, therefore, it’s uncomfortable.”

“I’ll happily do whatever I can to make you more comfortable.”

“I know you would, which somehow adds to my discomfort.” I laughed. “I’m not trying to say I make sense.”

“But you do make sense.”

“I’m glad one of us thinks so.” I sipped the drink. Heaven in liquid form.

“I’m not trying to placate you; I’m serious. You’re not uncomfortable because it’s wrong. You’re uncomfortable because, as you said, you’re unaccustomed to it. Instinctively, you want to reject the overture.”

I drew the glass back to my lips. “I don’t want to reject this, I promise you. It’s the second-best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

His grin made my heart thunder, sending a waterfall of warmth from my chest to pool between my thighs. If he intended to have a conversation, he needed to start talking—and fast.

“So, what’s on your mind?” I asked.

His whisky-colored eyes turned to flames. “Now? Something far more salacious than my original plan.”

I winced. “Sorry.”

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