“You got me in the mood for tacos, and I’m starving, so I took the liberty of ordering us food while you were staring at Crux’s ass. You really have a thing for asses, don’t you?”
My face heats. “I wasn’t looking at his ass.”
Echo smirks. “But you’re not denying that you like our asses?”
I shrug and head into the kitchen, my feet meeting bare concrete. “I may be a demon, but I don’t lie.”
The shadows shift, and Echo pops in front of me. “Liar,” he says with a grin, his pale skin and bright teeth nearly glowing in the dark.
I pretend that my heart didn’t skip a beat when he suddenly appeared like that, and I breeze past him to flip on the light switch. “Fine, I lie sometimes. But hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s rude to shadow pop in front of people?” I ask as I head for the sink and start washing my hands.
“Nope, I’ve never been called rude,” Echo says while he helps himself by opening my fridge and grabbing an old beer that’s probably been in there for who knows how long.
“Right,” I drawl as I watch him pop the top off using nothing but his fingers and then drink my last beer. “Can’t imagine why anyone would say that about you,” I tease.
“Precisely,” he replies after drinking a third of the bottle with a click of his tongue and a satisfied gulp. He holds it out to me. “Want some?”
“Would I like to drink some of my own beer that you just had your mouth all over? No thanks,” I say with a chuckle.
He leans against the fridge, his appearance lightly windblown and bloody, but the effect just makes him look sexier. I watch him like I’m hunting him. I can’t get enough of the intense contrast of his coloring. Buzzed white hair, black scruff on his face, jet black brows that are sharp and dramatic over his pale, milky skin. His black eyes are like pits, sucking me in every time he looks at me. And those ever-shifting tattoos of his that slink and trail over his arms and disappear up his shoulders and down his neck. He’s like a piece of art, and I want to know if those tattoos travelallover his body.
“Don’t pretend to be disgusted at the thought of our mouths sharing a bottle,” he tells me, making my gaze draw back up. “We both know it’s only a matter of time before my mouth is all overyou.”
A shadow tattoo moves up his neck and strokes his ear lobe as he speaks. I stare at it, wondering if he can make it stroke other things. My stomach flips at the sudden image of me splayed on a bed while he looms over me, his shadows stroking up my body. Fuck. My hands grip the edge of the counter. “You’re sure of yourself,” I reply, trying to keep my tone cool and collected, despite the shaky arousal I’m feeling. “What if I prefer Crux?”
Echo takes another swig, those black orbs of his locked on me. “Then I’d repeat my earlier response: Liar.”
I snort out some laughter, but I don’t actually argue with him. I like Echo a lot, and I would love to have sex with him because I have a feeling he could make me feelrealgood. It would be nice to forget about all the craziness going on around me for a bit, too, but even though I’ve always liked sex and been free about taking pleasure when I wanted, I’m still wary of making things more complicated than they already are.
I clear my throat and grab the beer from his hand for no other reason than being stupid and pushing the line I’ve tried to draw. I’ve always liked flirting with guys and feeling wanted. Mutual attraction is a powerful thing. Flirting with demons? It’s even more so. I can’t explain how compelling it is to have the rapt attention in Echo’s eyes and know that if I crossed the distance right now, he’d fuck me for all I was worth. It’s a heady feeling.
His eyes grow hooded as my lips close over the mouth of the bottle and tip it back to drink, my throat bobbing up and down before I hand it back to him. “Thanks,” I say, our fingertips brushing as he takes it from my hand.
“No need to thank me yet,” he says, his mouth twitching.
My phone dings, and I look down as he reaches in his pocket and pulls it out. I sigh and hold out my hand. “Give me my phone back.”
He ignores my outstretched palm and starts clicking again. “Food’s on the way,” he announces, his eyes on the screen.
I frown. “How did you even unlock it?” I ask.
“You worried?” Echo counters, still looking down at my phone.
“About you being a thief? Yes. Now hand it over.”
“Just a minute,” he says before pushing away from the fridge and heading into the living room where he makes himself at home on my couch. “Hmm, interesting,” he comments.
I sit on the middle cushion and peer over him to see what he’s looking at.
“Are these men booty calling you?” he asks as he scrolls through my old messages. He freezes when he comes to one from a dude I met at the bar. We hooked up a few times before he left for deployment with the Army. “Shit, you sent him nudes?”
My cheeks immediately fill with color, and I try to snag the phone, but he’s too quick and lifts it out of my reach. “Give it back!”
Of course he doesn’t. A grin overtakes his face as he continues scrolling. “Mmm, you’re very good at sexting.”
I know I am. I’m fucking awesome at it. It’s one of the reasons that dude still texts me from time to time, even though he’s in another country. He’s good for some phone sex when the dam is dry.
“That’s personal shit,” I say, trying to snatch it again.
