Page 132 of Of Flames and Fallacies

It prompts the memory of his hand wrapped around my neck when he nearly caught Daeja all those nights ago. How quickly his grip on my throat changed from choking to touching. Caressing. Teasing. Fingering. His naked body pressed against mine, his skin melting into me. Every wicked ounce of pleasure he tore from my body, ever so easily.

I suck in a breath and drive my heel into Darian’s foot. A grunt escapes his lips, and he retreats back into his own personal space. Pushing up to my feet, I excuse myself, and leave the grand dining room. My heels click against the marble as I scurry down a hallway. The pianist’s melody resumes to a slower, softer tune. I pause, leaning against a wall and coughing, still trying to settle the strain in my throat. Rubbing circles against my temple with a hand, I squeeze my eyes shut to force out the flashing memories of my night with Darian.

Footsteps sound behind me, pulling me out of my wavering focus. Glancing over my shoulder, I’m not surprised Darian’s strutting my way. I spin toward him, my dress floating and sweeping the ground as I turn. He pauses a few steps away from me and leans one shoulder against the wall. As if we both casually decided to meet out here, away from wandering eyes and perked ears.

I smack him on the chest with the back of my hand. “Knock it off.”

He has the audacity to look surprised. “Knock what off?”

“Stop looking at me like that! Or they’re going to know.”

He lowers his gaze, his eyes darkening.

“Yes, like that! Knock it off!” I hiss.

“What are they going to know?”

I glare at him. “That we slept together, you buffoon.”

His eyebrows shoot up, mocking me. “What?”

I grab a fistful of his shirt, pulling him down to me. I clap my hand over his mouth, shushing him. “If you don’t keep it down, I’m going to—”

He smiles against my hand, his words muffled by my skin. “You’re going towhat?” At my pause, he prompts me again with a whisper. “Or you’re going to do what, kitten? Divulge me, preferably in great detail. Maybe start where we left off last with you screaming on your hands and knees, trembling as I—“

I push him away from me. “You’re such a dick.”

That gorgeous glint of his wicked smile slices into his cheeks as he snickers. “Is that why you like to put your hands on me?”

What did Cole tell me before? Drunks, terrorists, toddlers, and he’s all three? Especially landing in that damn second category right now. I push past Darian and walk back to the dining room.

Cole jumps to his feet upon my arrival, his chair screeching against the floor. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” I reply curtly, taking a seat. As I shift into my chair, someone clears their throat. My gaze sweeps over to the sound, and Archie walks in with a swagger to his step, holding a plate stacked full with…oh.

Oh, no.

My cheeks flush in second-hand embarrassment as I watch it unfold before me. Archie slides into the seat next to Melaina, casually leans back, and grabs one of the many black shells stacked onto his plate. Snapping open the shell, he pops a piece of meaty flesh into his mouth.

Melaina begins, “Are…those…”

Archie glances at her sideways with a nonchalant grin. “Mussels? Oh, yeah, alotof them. We used to eat them in Helmbrook all the time.”

Melaina quirks an eyebrow up in bewilderment. My face falls into my hand as I recall the conversation Celeste and Melaina had earlier, before Archie excused himself.

Celeste meant Melaina was a sucker for muscles, not mussels, Archie.

“Want one?” Archie offers Melaina.

She shakes her head.

A strained chuckle comes from Celeste as she catches onto the clear misinterpretation. “How did you get all of those?”

Archie tilts his chin up. “I made a special request with the cooks.”

The music swells, and Cole jolts to his feet again, his amber gaze darting to me. He holds out an open hand across the table, eyes begging me. “Kat, would you dance with me?”

“We were going to do dances after dessert, but I suppose this time is as good as any. You two go!” Celeste encourages us with a brush of her wrist toward the dance floor. “I’ll join you later.”

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