Page 61 of Seth
“Bible?”Gustavo smirked,ducking under the wide horizontal scoops. “Oh, Loco, you’ll go to hell for blasphemy.”
Seth struck again.
When Gustavo had ordered his security team not to follow him, he hadn’t expected such a fierce attack, not after he returned the body. The regret of not having a backup scratched at the back of his consciousness. He could have pulled the gun and pointed it at Seth. Instead, he wavered. Diego’s annoying behavior wasn’t the only reason why he’d asked him to stay outside. By coming alone, he hoped to prove he meant no evil. Pulling a gun now would overrule that intention. Not pulling it would be suicidal.
Unable to decide on the best course of action, Gustavo threw his body aside, barely avoiding the thirsty blade that cleaved the air an inch from his chin. The heavy stomps of his shoes against the metal joined the thunderstorm.
His heart shrank and expended. A mixture of confusing emotions flooded his chest, awoken by the sense of danger and a weird elation from Seth saying his name for the first time. The tension of their proximity, roaring adrenaline in his blood, eyes glowing with hatred, and droplets of water shimmering on his pale skin—everything added to his heightened state.
Dressed in a white, wet shirt, Seth looked almost impudent. With his nipples showing through the thin fabric, he was even sexier than half-naked. Water dripped from his black hair, skidded down his neck, under the unbuttoned collar, leaving shimmering roads. Gustavo wanted to explore them with his tongue. The smell of rain cocooned Seth’s body, intriguing him to the point where instead of fighting the man, he wanted to come closer and wrap his arms around Seth’s waist.
A blade, flashing in front of his nose, made him leap back, then again and again as he watched Loco go into a killing frenzy. Water, tearing from his hair strands, spewed in all directions. Red light illuminated his demonic face.
“You shouldn’t have come, fly.” Not a human voice, but a howl of wind passing through dead foliage. Seth smiled, and in the flames dancing in the depth of his pupils, Gustavo read his death sentence.
“What a smile. You could cut with it,” Gustavo whispered, heart throbbing. His back hit the rails. Watching Loco approach, he realized that Seth was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and the sense of danger only enchanted this feeling. Heat streamed down his spine and hit his groin. His lungs caught on fire. He couldn’t stop staring at the furiously throbbing vein on Seth’s neck, protruding collarbones glinting with reflected fire, and pink outlines of the hard nipples beneath the wet shirt.
Fucking hell, Diego is right. I am insane. I do want him.
How on earthdidthis happen?The realization sharpened his awareness of Seth’s presence. Blood drummed in his temples, but the thirsty blade, swinging dangerously close to his face, cooled his excitement. To avoid tasting steel, Gustavo swayed back. The railings bit into the small of his back, stressing his spine, twisting his nerve endings.
“Do we have to do this again?” Gustavo asked as firmly as he could. He ducked left to dodge another attack, hand seeking the guidance of the railing as he moved toward the corner of the platform. He glanced down. Falling from this height could easily result in a broken neck. “Enough!”
“Enough?” Seth hissed. “I just started.”
Gustavo swallowed, watching rage distort Seth’s features as he slashed at him again. The air punched his face as he dove under a deadly arm, spun around.What the fuck have I done now? He is fucking furious.
Only a few days ago, this fight would have excited him. Now, he wished to take a break to figure out his feelings. He had a million ideas of what he wanted to do to Seth but fighting him, hurting him, was the last thing on the list.
Seth squeezedthe daggersso hard his knuckles cracked. Electricity buzzed in his veins. He was sure that if he sliced his skin, he would see blue sparks coming out instead of blood as if the sky itself charged him. “I warned you many times. You should have listened. No one will save you tonight. No one will ever find your body.”
Gustavo didn’t blink, but his face turned into a mask of dispassion. The buttons of his jacket clanged against the metal railings as he pulled at the lapel, revealing the gun tucked under his arm. “I don’t need saving. I’m armed.”
“Use it then, why won’t you?” Seth surged forward, the daggers crisscrossing in the air.
Not losing his composure, Gustavo pushed away from the rails and flattened against the side of the furnace. “Stop. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” Seth laughed at the man’s arrogance. “You can’t possibly hurt me. No one can.”
Seth’s aggression, finding a direction, filled his ears with a pleasant buzzing as he drove his daggers toward the man’s chest.
Heat,coming fromthe open shutter of the furnace, raised the hair at the back of Gustavo’s head as he flattened against the metal wall.
A demonic smile appeared on Seth’s beautiful face. His sharp canine tooth and the side of his face glowed with reflected fire. The muscles bulged under the wet, white shirt, showing through with the most enticing pink. Seth twirled the daggers before squeezing the blades between his index and third fingers. “But I can hurt you.”
Iron claws, protruding from Seth’s fists, charged at Gustavo’s throat in a hail of short jabs. Still wondering if he should pull the gun, Gustavo threw his body left. Heat licked the back of his head. A shudder ran down his spine at the thought that his scalp shrank and withered with the high temperature.
Seth’s smirk faded. His eyes reassessed Gustavo with deadly calm as he once again lifted his weapons, ready for the onslaught.
With the molten glass boiling behind his back and the blood-thirsty blades before him reflecting its fire, Gustavo had to admit that the conversation had reached a dead end. Seth’s back curled, muscles flexed under the wet shirt. He pulled one elbow back, drawing the knife in the shadows of his torso, and surged forward, body twisting. His right hand, coming from the side, targeted Gustavo’s ribs.
Before Gustavo managed to assess the situation, his body moved. His fingers clasped around Seth’s wrists, stopping the daggers, one—a fraction of an inch away from his eye, the other—before his ribs. He blinked, lashes brushing against the tip of the blade.
Sweat beaded on his back, every muscle burning with pressure. The shirt stuck to his skin as heat and adrenaline set his blood on fire. Every thought faded as the sharp blade shifted closer to his eye.
Upper lip twitching with the strain, Gustavo bowed his head right and forced Seth’s wrists away. The daggers swerved as the resistance disappeared. One blade ripped through Gustavo’s jacket and clanged against the metal wall by his flank; the other scratched the side of his throat. Pain blazed, and hot liquid trickled down his collarbone.
Seth leaped backward, breaking free. He glanced down, and his teeth bared. A piece of the thin blade had broken off from the contact with the wall. Giving his weapon a look of disdain, Loco cast the broken dagger aside.
