Page 31 of The Death Dealer

Morning dawned, and with it, so did Trev’s raging hard-on. He was beginning to think he’d never sleep through the night again if Soleil was within touching distance. The situation called for a cold shower. Cursing as the arctic blast of water first flowed over him, he gritted his teeth to endure the rest as he scrubbed and rinsed.

With any luck, Draven had gotten his text and would call soon. Trev would like to heal Lily immediately, if possible. He had the Aether’s blessing, of sorts, and if Fintan could see no long-term reason why Lilyshoulddie this soon into her life, then Trev wanted to proceed. Hopefully, none of Fintan’s psychic visions would show her future self to be detrimental to another. If they did, Trevor didn’t know how he’d explain it to Stockton or his daughter. He’d foolishly made a promise last night, but it was one he intended to keep.

Another excellent reminder not to get involved, he told himself.

Trevor was elbows deep into pulling a shirt over his head when a knock sounded at the connecting door. Tossing the shirt aside, he grinned and rushed to answer. Clearly, he was a sucker for Soleil’s admiring gaze. What was an exposed chest between friends?

Her reaction was almost comical. First, her eyes flew wide, then her wickedly talented mouth—and here he had to remember that was last night’s fantasy and not reality—dropped open. Her hands fluttered in time with her lashes as if she had a strong desire to stroke his bare skin.

“Good morning, Dalli,” he said warmly. She’d yet to shift her focus, and Trevor felt it was the perfect time to flex. Stretching his arms above his head, he locked his fingers together and made his pecs dance.

Her“ohmygoddess”never left her lips, but he heard it through their telepathic connection all the same. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to laugh. He sauntered over to the bed and, bending to best display his ass to advantage in his form-hugging jeans, picked up his shirt.

A high-pitched noise came from her direction.

Glancing over his shoulder, he flexed again, showing a powerful display of muscles across his back. “Did you say something, my dear Dalli?”

Face a raging inferno, she shook her head. “Not at all. But if you’re going to continue to pose, you may want to remove your pants. You can show offallthe goods that way.”

He laughed.

Unable to discern why, he had to acknowledge to himself that it made him ridiculously happy she had not only caught on, but had called him on his game. Her sigh was heartfelt as he drew his shirt down over his abs and settled the hem at his waist.

“I had that same reaction when you covered yourself with the sheet last night,” he confessed.

“We’re horn dogs,” she concluded glumly. “Horn dogs destined to never have wild monkey sex together.”

“Are youtryingto be depressing?”

Her tinkling laughter filled him with a desire to kiss the sound from her lips. Instead, he turned away to pick up his phone and wallet. With one last check, he noted the time.

“Fintan should be here within the next fifteen minutes. I hope he was able to reach Draven,” Trev said aloud.

“What did I miss? Why are the Sentinels coming here?”

He gave a small shake of his head. “Right. I forgot to fill you in. Come on. I’ll tell you as we head down to breakfast.” Pausing, he frowned. “Why are you up so early, anyway?”

“Gene texted to say he wanted to show me the greenhouse on the south lawn. He’s?—”

“A dead man if he doesn’t keep his hands to himself,” Trev muttered under his breath as she rattled on about plants and the time of day they bloomed ad nauseam.

With a hand to Soleil’s lower back, Trevor guided her out his door and into the hallway.

There, he found Draven leaning a shoulder against the wall, rolling his ever-present lucky coin across his knuckles.

“Good morning,cher.” His grin was slow in coming but encompassed his entire face, and his whiskey-colored eyes sparkled with wicked delight. A rare moment for the jaded Guardian. “You’re both lookin’ cozier than the last time I saw you.”

“Cram it, Masters,” Trev growled.

“Draven!” Soleil rushed forward and flung herself into his friend’s waiting arms as Trevor scowled his irritation.

“Since when did you become bosom buddies?” he asked. Although he ignored the surliness in his tone, Draven didn’t, and the bastard had the nerve to laugh.

“It’s like that, then? I suspected it was.”

“It’s like nothing,” Trev snapped.

Hurt flashed across Soleil’s expressive face, but she was quick to turn from him. “Have you had breakfast yet, Draven? We were heading downstairs for a bite.”

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