Page 47 of The Devil and His Goddess

My hand had slipped from her hair to rest on her cheek, and like two halves of the same whole, we drew closer. The air between us charged with desire and need so potent, it filled the back of my throat and the pit in my gut with the delicious pureness of her essence.

Her gaze flitted down to my lips, and she whispered, “The monster behind the mask?”

I stopped just shy of her mouth as I realized with a drop in my stomach what I’d said. It was unlikely she’d put two and two together, but the fact that I’d slipped up and practically outed myself to her was enough to make reality come crashing back into me like a tidal wave.

I pulled back, taking my hand off her cheek, too. The flicker of confusion in her eyes was there and gone as quick as lightning. I plastered on a smile and took both of our empty plates in my hands.

“I’ll clean up,” I forced out in a mostly normal tone. “You keep watching and studying.”

I made my way to the kitchen, and with my back to Harper, I tried to calm my uneven breathing. That moment had been perfect. I’d had Harper right where I needed her to get what I wanted, but … I’d stopped. Why the fuck had I pulled away from her whenthatwas as close as I’d gotten to convincing her to give into me?

I wanted her—desperately. I wanted her lips on mine, her naked skin beneath me, her sweet moans clouding my senses. Yet for the first time in my goddamn existence, I stopped a seduction.

Me.

Even more alarming than that, I’d let myself get so honest. I’dneverdone that, and I’d certainly never come so close to exposing what I was. I couldn’t seem to control myself around Harper these days, and that was concerning.

I was always in control. I was always in charge, even if I gave someone the perception that I wasn’t. In the end, I always was. So what was so different about her? What was different aboutnow?

I finished cleaning the dishes—albeit a bit rougher than necessary—and returned to the living room. The routine Harper had just been reviewing finished, and as the screen went black and the music faded into silence, I was left to face Harper and this never-ending tension between us. For once, I didn’t want the tension. I didn’t want to keep feeding into this desire, because it was doing something to me that I couldn’t explain.

Shewas doing something to me that I couldn’t explain.

“What did you think?” I asked with a gesture at the TV. Maybe talking about work would give me enough time to come back to my senses.

“I love the routine,” Harper answered. “I’m already itching to do it myself, and if you didn’t have a marble floor, I would.”

The potential of seeing her dance instantly lifted me up inside, and with a rueful smile, I surveyed the floor. “I’ve never hated this floor as much as I do right now.”

“I can practice it when I get home.” She hugged her knees to her chest where she still sat on the floor. “I actually want to do something else now.”

My dick threatened to stiffen, clearly not aligning with my head’s turmoil. “Oh?”

The grin she fought broke wide open, cracking my chest down the middle along with it. “I want to hear you play.”

My brows shot up. That wasn’t what I’d been expecting. I was sure she was going to continue the little game we were playing of push and shove, seeing who fell first into temptation. But instead, she surprised me with her request.

“What would my goddess like to hear?”

“The guitar is your main instrument, right? I want to hear you play that. And I want you to do one of your band’s songs.” She glanced away sheepishly as she added, “I still haven’t looked up your music. Sorry.”

Chuckling, I waved a hand. “No offense taken. Follow me.”

She followed me down the hall to the room I’d converted into a music room. Soft white carpet greeted my bare feet as I crossed the room to my dark gray leather sofa. Right beside it was my guitar stand, which held my glossy red electric guitar. My violin rested in its case on a table against the wall, which also housed my computer. A keyboard and second guitar stood next to it. Two leather chairs with a table between them sat against the wall, and my music stand occupied a nearby corner.

Harper looked around with a mixture of curiosity and wonder, which made me survey the room with new eyes. Should I have hung art in here? Should I have had cooler instruments to display for her?

“It’s not anything fancy,” I admitted self-consciously as she appraised my guitar. “We don’t record here or anything, so this room is really just for me to store my stuff and practice in.”

She perched on one end of the couch and fixed her excited grin on me. “Play.”

I couldn’t keep the smile off my face, even if I wanted to. Her eagerness was infectious. I grabbed my guitar off its stand, sat on the edge of the couch, and hooked it up to the amp. I never got nervous when it came to performing or doing a show, but right now, a pit opened up in my gut. Harper didn’t listen to our kind of music with its rock and metal elements. I worried she wouldn’t enjoy what I played, and that fear was new for me.

I glanced sideways at the violin, wondering if I should grab it to play some Paganini or something classical. I’d already set up the guitar, though, and suddenly getting too psyched out to play myowninstrument would be even more embarrassing.

Clearing my throat, I didn’t chance a look at her before I let instinct and practice take over. The loud, rhythmic strings of the guitar sang through the amp and shook the floor beneath my feet. My fingers moved in quick strummings as I performed what was normally a guitar solo in one of our songs, “Obsession and Silk.”

The melody of the entire song was dark, fast, and sensual—like a lot of our songs—and this solo was no different. It pulsed in the room, and as my fingers moved along the instrument, I saw Harper lean closer through the corner of my eye like she was entranced by what she was hearing and seeing.

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