Page 75 of Born for Lace

Picking at the potato with my fingers, I sit on the bed while Tomar prepares the room, ready to sleep in.

In a quiet kind of limbo, we spend time eating and preparing the beds, and finally, Tomar lies down on the single sofa. Resting his forearm on his head, his knees lifted so he can fit on the cushions, he inhales deeply and exhales everything—surrendering to his exhaustion.

I spend the following few hours on my back with Spero tucked between me and the wall, blinking at the ceiling, listening to the muted but provocative conversations outside the room.

Is Lagos having fun?

Is he being…entertained?

I cover my face with my palms and groan, needles of jealousy prick at my insides. This may be the last time he can ‘fuck’ things. I roll to face the wall, my lungs squeezing, withholding precious air. I can’t breathe.

He said helikesme.

Apparently, I like bananas, but that doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy other fruits. I bet this roadhouse is open all hours, so he can really get the urges out. One girl after another.

I close my eyes and feel tears pressing through my lashes.Why?I clutch my stomach as it twists. Why is it physically hurting me? He isn’t my lover. He’s merely my guide, a reluctant one at that. Just helping me escape.

That is all he owes me.

I focus on serious matters: This might be the last stop with food and company. The further north we travel, the further from civilisation, the more savage and unpredictable The Cradle will become.

I peer around the room. This may be one of the better stops. I swallow at the thought.

ChapterTwenty-Two

Dahlia

I wake to the sound of deep breaths so close I can almost feel the sound cascading directly into my ear.

A shiver rushes down my spine, and all my hairs stand on end. The breathing is endlessly deep, rumbling in my bones and pulling me completely from sleep.

I peer over my shoulder and down the length of the bed, squinting through the dark to see a large body lying horizontally just below my feet.

Lagos.

And that breathing is him… asleep. So, deeply relaxed.

I sigh heavily, pointing my toes to brush the side of his form. The room and the roadhouse seem to disappear, or maybe its shelter is no longer significant. I have him.

Help me;I’m completely and utterly falling in love with this emotionally unavailable, inhuman male.

After quickly checking Spero, I sit with a quiet wince and stare down at the huge Xin De monster at the foot of my bed. His knees hang off, legs bent, and feet planted on the floor—he’s massive.

It’s dim here, but I can see that he is bare-chested, only wearing briefs. I can’t tell the colour, but a long bulge lays over his thigh like he grew a forearm from his groin.

I swallow.

Snap my eyes up.

Deep shadows and subtle highlights contour his strong features. His long, dark lashes lay on his cheeks, and, somehow, he is even more striking when he sleeps.

My gaze slides down his face, revelling in this stolen moment. He has high cheekbones and a perfect nose, straight but not too prominent. His half-parted lips look soft, surrounded by a neat brown beard that is so male.

Kiss him…

My eyes drift to where Tomar sleeps soundly and back to Lagos again. My mouth suddenly dries.

I part my lips to breathe, finding my chest tight from the overflowing nervous energy as I lean forward.

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