Page 117 of Dance of Devils

Oh.

27

BROOKLYN

I stepout of the dressing room, skittering to a halt as a muscled, tattooed arm shoots out and blocks my path.

I let my gaze up run over the spiraling ink, broad shoulders, absurdly beautifully proportioned neck and head, and grin.

“Can I help you, Val?”

My friend winks at me. “Depends.”

“On?”

“On if you're in a sharing mood.”

My brow furrows. “You were just in the same rehearsal I was in, right? So maybe you can see why I don’t really have the energy for riddles right now?”

He chuckles. “Fair. I’ll skip the tiptoeing.” He looks pointedly at me. “Who’s the new guy?”

I almost choke on my tongue.

“What?” I squeak, probably cementing Val’s theory firmly into place.

“Who are you fucking. I can tell it’s someone fun, and I want details.”

I frown at him. “I am notfuckinganyone.”

…Which is technically true.

That still hasn’t happened. He’s gone down on me literally three times a day for the last week, occasionally mixing it up by pinning me to the wall or over the nearest random piece of furniture and fingering me into oblivion. He also keeps me guessing with the odd spanking over his knee, mostly when I’m being a brat.

But he still won’t let me touch him.

Infuriatingly, he keeps claiming that I’m “not ready” for that with him. That his “brand” of sex is too rough, too…whatever…for me.

On one hand, it’s not like I’mmadthat the freaking god of a man I’m living with has a thing for making me come on his tongue. And I know he’s only holding back because of what I’ve told him I’ve been through, and from what he’s seen.

But it's making me regret telling him anything at all about James or Lou, or about the shit I went through in foster care.

Iknowit’s because he doesn’t want to hurt me, but I feel it should be up to me to decide if what he’s into or the way he fucks is “too much”, not betoldthat it is. But how do I say that to someone as larger than life, and powerful, and seeminglyimmortalas Kir?

“You totally are,” Val sighs.

I could keep fighting him on the technicalities of this. But I’m exhausted after rehearsal, so I let it slide.

“Fine,” I shrug. “Yeah, I’m…seeing someone.”

He grins wickedly. “And…he—or she…?”

I roll my eyes. “He. Still straight, buddy.”

He sighs happily. “My favorite foreplay line, from a guy.”

I snort. “Okay, I’ll bite. How did you guess?”

He gives me alook.“The floaty way you’ve been swishing your hips around all week like you’re still imagining the dick you were riding before rehearsal might have something to do with it.”