Page 25 of Ares

“What is it with you trying to be my knight in shining armor anyway?”

“You know… a simple thank you would suffice here.”

“He was a good tipper.”

His expression turns serious. “No amount of money is worth him putting his hands on you without permission. And from where I was standing, you weren’t granting him permission.”

He’s right.

Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for the help.

My testiness has everything to do with me, not him.

Because ever since I saw Ares fight at Oscar’s, I can’t get the wall of muscle out of my head, and I’ve been going back to every fight because of it.

And that’s not the plan.

It’s also dangerous.

The other night when I approached Ares at Aces High and told him I wasn’t there to hit on him, I was telling the truth. I was there to ask him to kill my stepfather.

But if I’m being real honest, I do want to kiss him.

And I mean really kiss him.

I’m talking the kind of kiss where you feel every emotion, every need, every desire.

One that you don’t ever want to end because it feels too good.

Even now, standing here wearing nothing but a glittery bikini in the middle of a strip joint, I want to taste those lips. But if I reach up and brush my lips against his, we’ll end up fucking, and that’s not why I want to kiss him. I want to because his mouth is perfect and soft, and I haven’t ever been kissed into nirvana before, and I know Ares would be able to do that.

Effortlessly.

Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?

This has already gone too far, and now I’m thinking about magical kisses?

Time to pull back.

“So have you reconsidered?” I ask him.

“About sleeping with you?”

“What? That’s not what I meant. And for the record, that offer was never on the table.”

“Oh, you mean the other thing.”

“Yes… the other thing.”

“No.”

“Then why are you here?”

“This is a Kings of Mayhem club. I’m here on business.”

In the ethereal blue light, he looks almost angelic. But I know he’s more demonic than divine.

And it excites me.

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