Page 97 of Doesn't Count

Ashton

“How do I look?” I ask, joining Khaos in the kitchen.

He’s pouring himself a glass of bourbon, dressed in a stark black suit, shirt, and tie. He’s exactly how I imagined the devil to look, with his hair slicked back, his golden eyes glowing beneath thick brows. His face freshly shaven, smooth and dangerous. I immediately want to feel his cheek sliding against the inside of my thigh.

He peers up at me through thick, dark lashes, a sinister look shadowing his features. Slowly, he drags his gaze from my blood red lips, down to the black choker with a ruby pendant that accentuates the length of my neck. Khaos steps into me, lowers his mouth to my bare shoulder and sweeps his lips along my skin. His hand grazes my hip, covered by my deep red strapless dress that flares out at my feet. Finding the slit resting high on my thigh, his fingers dip underneath the fabric, wrapping around to squeeze my ass.

He groans against my neck. Sliding a curl behind my shoulder to get better access.

“You’re just asking for trouble, Eris.” He grumbles, hisfingers slipping lower, finding that sweet spot between my legs. “What would your boss think if he knew you weren’t wearing any panties? Hmm?” He hums in my ear. “Would he look away if he saw my fingers disappear into you or do you think he’d watch?”

Heated, I shove him, “You better behave tonight.”

“Is that a threat?” He smirks, his eyes flicker with a challenge.

“No, quite the opposite actually.” I tilt my head up and glide my lower lip along the shell of his ear. “Good boys get rewards.”

A growl rumbles deep in his chest fading into a pained groan, eliciting a laugh from me. It's cut short by the force of my spine hitting the edge of the counter, Khaos’ body pinning me against it. His breath quickens as he inhales my salacious promise. Fantasies, one by one, flicker across those amber stones, darkening by the second.

He brushes his thumb along my red lips, slipping it inside, the pad of his finger flattening against my tongue. “I’m dying to see this mouth around my cock.”

My lips tip up in a smile around his calloused digit, my teeth sinking down into his flesh. He doesn’t even flinch as I apply more pressure, wondering if he’d let me bite it clean off. Finally, his free hand snaps up to wrap around my neck, gripping until air can no longer filter through my lungs. With a maniacal grin, I release my razor-sharp hold, his gaze never leaving my mouth. Slowly, he drags his finger along my tongue before slipping out, deep angry bite marks forming a beautiful ring.

“If there was a God more powerful than me, I’d fall to my knees and beg him to keep you.” He murmurs.

“Even if he granted you that prayer, what makes you think I’d stay?” I challenge.

Khaos scoffs, “Because he’d promise you my ruin.”

My heart threatens to rip in two, torn between wanting to die for this man in front of me and running as far away as possible to save myself from my own apocalypse. For now, I assuage the wild beast inside my chest and let his words be just that; words.

“Always the poet.” I sigh. “Come on. If we don’t leave now, we’ll never make it.”

“I’m okay with that.” He mumbles.

Somehow, on the cab ride over to the JW Marriott, we refrain from going at it like animals in the back seat. The sexual tension is so palpable I worry for the driver, who squirms uncomfortably behind the wheel wondering if he’s going to have to pull us off each other. For his sake, we keep it PG.

When we pull up to the enormous building, the driver rounds the car and helps me out. His face is flush, and he ducks his head the second Khaos glares at him for even touching me. I thank the man as I’m yanked into the hotel, the door swinging open by a Bellman who greets us.

“Let’s get this over with.” Khaos grumbles as he follows the sign in the lobby towards the ballroom hosting our event.

The room itself is enormous and the grandeur chandeliers lining the arched, domelike ceiling provides a soft, romantic glow. It’s enough light to cause the silver sequin table cloths to glitter, catching my eyes. I walk over to one of the round tables, in the center sits a vase draped in pearls, housing a variety of white flowers and feathers. I place my jacket on the back of the chair even though there’s a coat room with its own attendant. I like the idea of making a quick getaway.

I startle as arms wrap around my shoulders from behind me, hugging me to a chest. My heart jumps into my throat at the sight of violence written all over Khaos’ face. Lips kiss my cheek before I twist around to find Jack.

“Oh my God, do you look hot!” He takes my hand and spins me around getting a good look.

Mortification heats my body like flames licking my skin. Rough hands rip me from Jack, Khaos pulling me into him.

“It’s not like that.” I whisper-yell.

Jack’s eyes widen, “Holy shit.”

I try to wriggle away from my broody monster’s hold, but he only tightens his grip, forcing a yelp to jump from my lips.

“Jack, this is Khaos, lead singer of Night’s Deadly Deeds. Khaos, this is Jack, my co-worker.” I introduce the two of them.

“Wow, what a pleasure to meet you!” My sweet, red-haired five-foot eight friend sticks his hand out and is met with a challenging glare.

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