Trickster by Sam Burns & W.M. Fawkes

Author:Sam Burns & W.M. Fawkes [Burns, Sam & Fawkes, W.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: FlickerFox Books
Published: 2024-02-08T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

FAUST

Everybody knew a man slept hard after a good fuck. It was one of those immutable facts of life.

And when Cameron dropped his head back, I figured he was going to pass out right there on the couch. If all went according to plan, he’d sleep hard and I’d have all night to figure a way out of this predicament.

But a second later, he tipped his chin down and surveyed me with narrowed eyes.

Nervously, I laughed. “What?” I wiped my lips with the back of my wrist, sure he was surveying a streak of come on my face or something equally uncouth.

“You did say I owed you something,” he said by way of explanation, and then he was up, sending me backward. He hauled me up, and I figured he’d set me on my feet, but no.

Up and up and up I went, until there was nothing to do but wrap my legs around his waist. The poor towel looped around my waist came loose, but—fuck it, I didn’t care. I could feel the bare strip of skin between his shirt and his unbuckled jeans, and I wanted more of that.

He carried me over to his bed, pressing me back into the mattress without letting me go. Like a wave crashing, he fell over me, and his mouth was on mine, his tongue thrusting in to claim my mouth, still bitter with his spend.

“Why are you so fucking pretty?” he growled against my lips. “Is it some kind of enchantment?”

Heat flooded me. It was one thing for someone to want me, but something entirely else to win Cameron over despite his best judgment. “The cuffs,” I rasped.

They were his damn cuffs. He shouldn’t have needed the reminder that I couldn’t do magic, couldn’t enchant him, couldn’t even hurt him, surprisingly little as I was inclined to do it.

But at the reminder of them, something flashed in Cameron’s eyes. He grabbed my wrists and gathered them in one enormous hand, pinning them above my head.

He’d come to his senses, I realized as a stone dropped in my belly. He remembered why we were there, who I was, and he was going to pull away. And it hurt.

Fuck, why did it hurt?

Maybe because even when I posed no real threat, the people I wanted didn’t want me back. What I had to offer was magic and trickery and—and nothing real. Nothing anyone would want.

I looked away, quite keen to hide the disappointment on my face, but Cameron gripped my chin in his free hand and turned me back to him.

Obstinate as ever, I shut my eyes so he couldn’t see me.

“Asmodeus?”

I huffed. My brow furrowed. “Don’t call me that.”

“Not even here?”

What did he mean—in his bed? That hardly mattered when he was going to toss me out of it.

Well, okay, he’d probably crawl out of it himself, go back to his lumpy couch or spend some time outside, finding another bottle so he couldn’t see me quite so clearly.

“Not even anywhere.”

I did not sound pouty, thank you very much.

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