Page 11 of Ever Dark

I swallow down the lump in my throat. Between the guy I screwed in the bathroom at Duff’s Bar the other night and now this flawless Adonis in front of me, I’m starting to think that Ever Graves only allows beautiful men to live here.

Aries leads me to a door underneath the sweeping staircase. The wood creaks when he pulls on it. He flashes me another grin before descending yet another staircase. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

Butterflies dance in my belly at the tone of his voice. He’s polite yet suggestive, like a man who is doing everything in his power not to let the mask slip. The hairs on the back of my arms prickle as I follow him down the dark passageway.

“Is this the part where you murder me and hide my body in one of the wine barrels?” I’m only half-joking.

He reaches back for my hand, another gentlemanly gesture so I don’t slip, but his grip is a little too firm. “I hadn’t thought of that. Thanks for the suggestion.”

I freeze on the stairs, my palm sweating inside his. “Um…”

He bursts out laughing. “Relax, little lamb. Murder is a bit too messy for me.” We reach the bottom of the stairs—I know because he flicks on a light, knowing exactly where the switch is located. It illuminates the room and his face, which is now just inches away from mine. “I’m more of a bury you alive type of guy.”

If it weren’t for that devilish smirk on his face, I’d question if he was joking. He’s playful and charming, but something sinister creeps at the edges of his lips, something dark pulls at his eyes.

I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. The cellar is musty and cool and smells like old library books. “How thoughtful,” I tease.

When I finally tear my eyes away from his face, I gasp. “There must be a thousand bottles down here.”

He wipes the dust off the nearest one and presents it to me. “This is a 1982 Chateau Lafite. It’s worth about ten grand. There are a few thousand others in here just like this one. Different vineyards and years, but all worth about the same and higher. And it’s all yours.”

What in the actual fuck? Now the back of my neck is sweating as well as my palms. “That’s insane. People actually pay that much for wine?”

Aries dips his head to the side, a seductive move that lands its intention. A tiny trickle of moisture leaks out of my pussy. He caresses the bottle in a way that makes me want tobethe fucking bottle. “People will pay anything if they want something bad enough.” There’s a hint of ache in his voice.

“What is it thatyouwant?” I ask, my fingers trembling at mysides. I’m overwhelmed by the scents of this room and him and the heat of his stare on me.

He fingers a few more bottles before landing on another and pulling it out from its home on the rack. “To drink this very expensive bottle of wine with you while I tell you exactly what I want.”

It’s strange how Aries knows his way around my kitchen. He pulls out the exact drawer that the wine opener lives in before crossing to the cabinet that holds a set of crystal decanters. I wonder just how much time he’s spent here…

“You have to be gentle with these old corks.” He carefully twists the wine opener into the cork. “They’re fragile and can disintegrate if you don’t get the right angle.”

Despite the fact that it’s just a little after noon, my mouth salivates for a taste. This wine, this moment, is the stuff from fiction. These scenarios don’t happen to girls like me.Not to dirty little orphan girls who can’t even dream because their sleep is possessed by nightmares.

With the cork safely out and in one piece, Aries sets it on the marble counter. “Now, no matter how gentle you are, there’s always going to be some sediment at the bottom. So that’s why I’m going to pour it into here.” He winks and rolls up his suit sleeves before reaching for the crystal decanter.

The veins on his forearms protrude around his chiseled muscles as he grips the bottle. I clench my thighs together as every single one of his movements turns me on.Fuck, I’m such a whore.I feel my cheeks heat when we lock eyes. He knows I want him. Fuck. But I’m sure this man is used to everyone wanting him. He’s universally hot.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” I ask like an idiot.

After he finishes decanting the bottle, he reaches into anothercabinet and pulls out two goblets. “My mother taught me when I was six. She loved showing off that trick at dinner parties.”

I nearly choke on my first sip. “Six years old? Holy shit.”

He smiles, but his lips are tight. “There’s nothing holy about my life, darlin’.”

I nod and swirl the wine around in my mouth. I remember seeing someone do that in a movie once.

He holds up his glass. “Look at the legs on that. Fuck.”

I nod again, but I am so out of my league right now; it’s painful.

“See how the wine teardrops down the sides of the glass? This one’s been fermenting for a long time. Higher alcohol content—which means we’re going to get fucked up.” He laughs.

I don’t usually drink much, so after a few more sips, I’m already feeling buzzed. I lean against the center island, thankful that it stands between us. Aries looks and sounds like a very bad idea. He’s not only sexy as hell, but he’s also rich, powerful, and charming. Where I come from, that combination leads to devastation and ruin.

He cocks his head to the side. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

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