Page 141 of Gates of Tartarus

He laughs, but it’s darker and more dangerous than I’m used to, and I forget how to breathe when he glances down at me consideringly, then whispers, “You have syrup on you, Suge,” in a cavernous voice that sends ripples along my skin. “Let me clean it up for you.” And, leaning forward, helicksa small line along my collar bone where a tiny drop of maple syrup is. The feeling sends starbursts dancing along my nerves, lighting up my skin in tiny galaxy bursts of color. He nibbles at my collar bone lightly, following tongue with teeth and lips, leaving no room for breath or oxygen. His hands are still tracing firebolt patterns on my thighs,justoutside where I suddenly and desperatelyneedhim to be. Lachy’s fingers are rough and calloused and feel like candlelight on my skin as they drift up, skirting along my hips, and wrapping around my back, under my shirt, burning on my naked skin.

And then, with no warning, he suddenly drops to his knees in front of me, and licks my thigh,righton the hiked-up edge of my shorts. I… Ieep, there’s no other word for it, and Lachy smiles against the inner skin of my thigh, rubbing his nose lightly on the sensitive skin and humming in quiet appreciation. “Thatsound,” he says, voice laced with some male satisfaction, and looks up at me with his whiskey eyes lit with an inner fire. Holding my gaze long enough that I can see all the humor drop off his face, he lets me watch as it’s replaced by something raw and vulnerable, some fathomless, aching longing that is oceans deep. Inhaling deeply against my skin, he bites me lightly, causing me to jump like I’ve been shocked, and then shiver again when he licks the bite, his beard scratching softly against me. One hand stays wrapped around my back, pulling me towards him. Meanwhile his other hand has dropped back to my thigh, flexing and rubbing, wrapped around my leg massaging me, sending bolts of lightning straight to my core.

Biting and licking and kissing, he moves towards my center, honey-slow but inexorable, murmuring as he tastes the maple on my skin, breathing me in, until I’m trembling beneath his touch. When he reaches the crease where my shorts have ridden up, barely covering me at this point, he makes a low sound that’s half-rumble, half-moan. It sounds like it’s torn from his soul, and he leans forward, resting his forehead low,lowon my stomach. “You taste so sweet, Kai. You are a living dream,” he whispers, voice strangled, and I. Can. Not. Speak.

He has kissed or tasted every inch of skin in a path to my core, his thumbs stroking electric lines of need where my thighs meet,millimetersfrom where every nerve in my body is now focused. Nuzzling at me for a moment, he pulls back slightly, and then, over the thin, cotton cover of my boy shorts, unexpectedly nips lightly but directly on my clit, then presses a kiss directly on it, and I shudder violently, whimpering, high and needy, grabbing the back of his head, threading my fingers through his hair. He breathes out heavily against me, sending a hot wave of air skirting over my skin, and I feel seconds from dissolving into stardust.

“I don’t want to... you don’t have to rush this, Suge,” he says quietly, almost reluctantly, though his gripping hands bely his relaxed tone.

He’s still kneeling in front of me, his head trapped by my thighs, my hands, and I don’t think I could let him go now if he begged. Everything in me is focused on the man before me, and the knowledge that, if I shatter in his arms, he’ll pick up the pieces, even if they slice him to bleeding, and put them together so carefully that you would never see the cracks. I will not give up this moment for anything, and I suffocate the demons of doubt in my heart with the promise of Lachy.

“All I have to do is say your name?” I ask him breathlessly, and he looks up at me with forever in his eyes.

“If you even think it loudly enough, I’ll be there, Kailani. My everything is where you are,” he replies seriously, stopping my heart.

“Lachlainn…” I say softly, and, taking his hands, pull him up to me, fusing my mouth to his, tasting the sticky maple on his lips and licking it with my tongue. Lachy shudders and sighs his soul into mine, pressing every piece of him into me, before picking me up like I’m a feather, and turning towards the stairs.

“Are you sure?” he asks me, even as one of his hands slips beneath my boy shorts to grip my naked skin, and I grin up at him, Cheshire-Cat smile wrinkling my face with pure, undiluted happiness.

“Ofyou?” I ask, and he nods. I let go of his shoulders and take his face in my hands as he stops walking, and I force him to lock eyes with me. “Lachlainn Baird,” I say quietly, forcefully. “Of all of the things on heaven and earth, you are the one thing I know is true.”

He catches his breath, staring into my eyes, and says, “Kai, I lo…” but his phone and my phone ring jarringly in unison, shattering the moment. Despite that, we exchange amused looks, and he reluctantly puts me down, though he wraps one massive arm around my waist to keep me from moving too far away. “‘Lo?” he says brusquely into the phone, then sighs, and looks at me. “Walker says ‘answer your phone’.”

Picking up quickly, I hear Smith’s voice rattling off information to someone in the background. “Smith?” I ask, even as Lachy kisses the small of my neck, beard tickling me, and laughter skirts my voice.

“Reed. I need you to get that stuff from Cole asap, please,” he barks out.

“I am. Just about to leave,” I reply, and he scoffs.

“Yeah. You definitely sound like you’re rushing out the door,” he says wryly.

My eyes shoot up in surprise. “I actuallyamdressed and ready to go.” I try to sound convincing, but Lachy is doing something with his tongue that’s incredibly distracting.

“Stop playing kissy-face with your boyfriend or whatever. Time to work. Chop chop.” Smith sounds amused and annoyed and frustrated all at once.

“What?” I gasp slightly. “I’m not... Why would you think that?”

“You sound cute as fuck and all breathy, and we don’t have time for it. Get your ass to work,” he snaps out, then promptly hangs up the phone.

Lachy pulls back slightly to see my face and groans. “What now?” he asks, and I look at him, completely confused, and still in a haze of lust.

“Smith said to stop playing kissy-face and get to work.” Lachy barks out a surprised laugh and shakes his head.

“Guess you have your marching orders,” he says reluctantly, and I cast a longing look up the stairs.

“Maybe a quickie?” I ask cheekily, and he growls at me, pressing me back into the wall, and kisses me until I can’t breathe.

“Cher,” he says darkly, staring down at me, “if you think I’ll have enough time to do all the things I’ve been dreaming about doing to you before you leave for work, you’re crazy. And if you think I’m going to be able to stop once I start, you’re insane. When, not if, but when, you’re spread naked before me for the first time, it’s going to be like a starving man at a banquet. Not a quick snack. We’ll have plenty of time for those in the future, but the first time… no. Get going now, before I change my mind and carry you up those stairs.”

Smiling at him, I bury my face in his chest for a moment before pulling away. Everything is crazy at the moment, my emotions rocketing from the deepest lows to highest highs; I’m not able to block shit; my head still feels like it’s been slammed in a door; my stomach churns every time I think of Deo and Gemm. There are moments… entire hours... where I think I can’t go on, where it feels like the world is crumbling around me, that nothing is good or true or real. But here, with Lachy, just like this, alone in our forest, on our island, the heavy fog and Sound separating us from the rest of life, here I remember what happiness is and that, maybe, I’ll be okay.

“Thank you, Lach,” I say, suddenly serious, and he meets my gaze with eyes just as somber as my own. He doesn’t ask why I’m thanking him, doesn’t ask why my mood changed so suddenly. He just looks down at our intertwined hands and pulls them up to his face, kissing my fingers.

“Be safe,” he says quietly. “You take my heart with you every time you walk out that door.” He waits while I get dressed, then he passes me my keys and waves good-bye from the porch as I drive away.

???

Elizabeth’s offices are in complete disarray. I walk into a frenetic bustle of people in the cavernous lobby. There are five small desks to the left of the entryway, each separated by plexiglass, with interviewers and interviewees on either side. The couches in the waiting area are filled with serious-looking men and women, each grabbing a briefcase or folder in nervous hands, studiously avoiding looking at each other, and, occasionally, a name will be called out into the crowd and an anxious-looking person will stand, straighten their clothing, and move away.

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