Page 28 of Unveil
My.
God.
He’s shocking me. I am well and truly shocked, and it feels like I’m seeing my fiancé for the very first time.
We’re hardly ever this close, and now I can’t take my eyes off him. Is there more stubble on his jawline? Five o’clock shadow is just a saying, right? It looks hot as hell on him, outlining those lips that I’d love to taste.
No. I’mendingthings tonight. Just because he’s acting the exact way I’ve always wanted him to, and then some, getting knocked on the head during his cigarette break doesn’t mean any?—
Wait.
I sniff.
Huh.
I’d expect the pungent scent of cigarette smoke, but instead, I get crisp river air winding through pine forests, cut with sweet bourbon. I breathe him in without meaning to, and his arm tightens, pressing me against his chest and making my lower belly clinch.
“You don’t smell like smoke,” is all I manage.
Smooth, Luna.
“I decided against it,” he murmurs into my hair, then his thumb brushes my shoulder. “I like these. Your tattoos. The skulls are… fuck, they’re perfect.”
I pull back. “You like them?”
“Yeah. I’m surprised your dad let you get them.”
I snort. “He didn’t have a choice once I bribed someone outside New Orleans to do it.” I shrug. “I wanted to wear our family’s mark.”
His dark eyes flash. “And so you do.”
Those words are thick like caramel. He tugs me impossibly close as he guides me through the chorus, placing my hand on his shoulder before skimming down my torso. His hand drops low, grazing where the skull’s wreath of flowers bloom up my upper thigh.
“I especially love the one here.”
I shiver from the heat in his voice and touch. But I bite my lip until anger and uncertainty drives the question from me.
“It doesn’t make me look like a Fury fucker?”
His steps falter. His gaze hardens. “What?”
I shouldn’t have said anything, but my tongue’s looser than usual—thanks, alcohol—and here I go spilling things I shouldn’t.
“It’s what Bart called me.”
His lips thin. “And what did you say back?”
My eyes widen.Whoops.
“Nothing.”
“Luna…” he warns, eyes narrowed.
I wince. “You’re not gonna like it.”
“Try me.”
“Okay… but remember I’m a brat sometimes.”
