Page 41 of Poison Touch (Monarch Vipers #1)

He puts the car into neutral. “Abigail.” He huffs a humorless laugh. “She hated it when people called her Abby.” The metal bar in his mouth clicks against his teeth. “When she was in a mood, she wouldn’t answer to anything but her middle name, Rose.”

“Rose?” The delicate word comes out like a question. “Rose is my middle name, too.”

He steals a glance at me as if to say, Of course it is. His nod is confirmation of something I can’t pin down. “Named after your grandmother?”

I nod. “Yeah, on my mom’s side.”

“Same. She was a snooty old bitch.” He shakes his head. “Not Abby Rose, though.”

“Sounds like I would have liked her.”

He scoffs. “Everyone did.”

The pained look on his face is awful to look at. So I turn my gaze to look out the window.

“I called her Abby Rose just to be a dick. She hated it.” A faint, faraway smile blossoms over his mouth. “She always answered, though.”

Could this conversation be any more heart-wrenching?

His eyes have since moved from me to looking through the windshield at the convenience store. There’s a long moment of silence. “Want to drive?”

The mood in the car is as heavy as a freight train. It takes longer than usual for me to answer. The topic shift happens way too fast for my head.

“Yeah, sure,” I finally say. For some reason, I can tell it would please him if I did. I’m still asking why the hell I want to please Ashton Kade after the answer has already slipped out of my mouth. But the real reason is I can’t bring myself to deny him after his painful disclosure.

“I’ll be right back.” He goes for the handle of the door.

I lay my hand over the one still gripping the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry, Kade. I won’t say it’s not your fault or that there was nothing you could do.

I’m sure you’ve heard those things a thousand times.

” He closes his eyes and then slowly opens them.

“I’ll only say this… I’ll do whatever I can to make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else. ”

And there it is, sprouting up like a new little budding flower, all on its own. A promise I didn’t intend to make.

He finally looks in my direction. “Be careful, Ninja.” He opens the door and climbs out of the car, closing it behind him.

I slide over the center console and into the driver’s seat.

Yesterday passed in a blur. I’m just happy it’s Saturday, and I get to see Luca.

He’s taking me to pick out a Halloween costume.

I’m still very unsure what in the actual fuck I’m doing, but it doesn’t seem like I’m thinking too clearly about anything these days.

I wear my usual Docs, cut-off jean shorts, and an unimpressive self-made half-shirt.

When he pulls up to my house, I climb into his car.

I lean over and give him the biggest hug I can manage in the small space. “Hey, you!”

We untangle. His disapproving eyes roam over my outfit. “Girl, I see you dressed up for me.”

“What? I’m wearing panties. What else do you want?”

He rolls his eyes as he puts the car in drive. “So, I’m thinking something masquerade-y.”

“Masquerade-y? Is that even a thing?”

He touches his chest. “Hell yes, it’s a thing. I’ll paint on your mask so you won’t have to worry about taking it off and putting it on a million times. That’s a pain in the ass.”

For the entire ride to the mall, he talks about how he’ll do my makeup and dress me. He spares no details on what he has planned.

Ugh… the mall. I used to love the place, but now I can’t stand it. Only because it’s Luca, I get out of the car. He waits for me and holds out his hand for me to take.

“I’m picturing a hot two-piece black dress that shows off your defined abs. Short skirt in the front and longer in the back, layers of sheer, delicate fabric, and heels to kill for. You’re going to be smashing.” He squeals like we already shopped and acquired all of those things.

“Sounds like you’re going to dress me up like a gag-me Barbie.” I follow him around the stores like a puppy wanting a treat and act halfway excited. The truth is, I just want to find something so we can leave and get meatball subs.

“Oh my God, there it is!”

The only dress I see in the large display window that fits his Barbie description doesn’t leave much to the imagination. But I have to admit, it is gorgeous.

I gasp and cover my mouth. “OMG, right! That’s exactly what I was thinking. Very masquerade-y,” I tease.

“I don’t think that’s a word, but let’s go with it, anyway.” He grabs my hand, drags me into the store, and tracks down a salesperson. She barely has a word out before he points to the window and says, “I need that dress in a size two.”

When I go outside to look at the black two-piece dress on the mannequin again, four figures come toward me.

“Dammit all to hell,” I mutter to myself. I hook my thumbs into the loops of my shorts and drop my head in hopes they don’t recognize me as I duck back into the store.

Luca is busy talking with the sales lady by the dressing room. “Come on, what are you waiting for?”

Hurrying to his side, I jump into the dressing room and slide the drape closed. I pray Venom is long past this boutique when I come out. Taking longer than necessary, I slowly change into the dress.

Luca slides the drape aside enough to peek in and hands me a pair of strappy heels. “Take off those damn boots and put these on.”

I try to peer around him to see if certain someones are lurking, but I can’t see anyone past Luca’s tall frame without looking like a completely crazy person. I pull the drape closed. It’s hard to think about anything else with them here. Don’t they have better things to do than wander the mall?

Finally, I tell Luca I’m done. He pushes the curtain to the side. His mouth drops open. “Kins, baby, you just turned me into a straight boy.”

I laugh. He takes my hand and gently coaxes me out of the small, enclosed space into the open where everyone in the store can see.

Turning, I face the mirror. The black, beaded halter top leaves a couple of inches of bare skin to the skirt's waistband. Aside from a three-inch band just above my waist, my entire back is exposed. The sheer layered skirt is short in the front, resting above my mid-thigh, then gradually gets longer until the back rests just short of the floor with the three-inch heels.I touch my scar hidden beneath the fabric and sigh in relief that it can’t be seen.

My best friend comes up behind me, taking my hair and piling it into a messy bun on my head.

He pulls some strands out, letting them fall around my face.

“Now imagine a painted lace mask, lower on one side than the other, dusted with blue glitter to bring out your gorgeous eyes. We’ll incorporate your eyebrow piercings…

” He draws the imaginary mask on my face as he explains his plans for the intricate design.

When I look up and see Edge staring back at me in the mirror, Luca’s words fade into a string of distant, incoherent chatter.

Luca snaps his fingers next to my head, jerking me out of my trance. “Kins, are you listening to me?”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m listening.”

“You know that I know when you’re lying… right?” He follows where my attention has strayed and stiffens behind me. “Please tell me he’s gay,” he whispers, still loud enough for anyone around us to hear.

I shake my head. “I don’t think so,” I rasp. My voice doesn’t sound like my own.

Luca shifts to the side as Edge closes the distance between us. The others in the dressing area have all gone quiet. I don’t have to look around to know they’re staring at the man behind me. He’s quite something to take in.

Edge reaches for my hand and wordlessly pulls me away from the small group of other customers trying on clothes.

He still doesn’t say anything when he glances over his shoulder at me.

The look in his eyes is unreadable. Disapproval, distrust, lust, a combination of all three.

He stops in between the displays of clothing and turns.

There’s a small effort on my part that fights against him as he pulls me to him.

It’s not enough to make any difference. Before I know it, my body is flush against his, my breasts pressed against his chest. He takes notice of where our bodies are touching, his gaze lingering on the swell of my breasts.

A deep, hungry growl crawls up his throat.

He swallows it down and slowly raises his eyes to meet mine.

For a long moment, he just studies my face.

I find myself lost in the storm of his gray eyes, riding the waves of a tsunami brewing in his mysterious gaze.

He skates his fingertips up my arm. Chills follow in the wake of his feather-like touch.

I close my eyes and let my head fall forward from the sweet, torturous sensation.

As if tracing the roads on a map, he makes a trail with the tip of his finger over my shoulder, up the side of my neck, over the curve of my jaw, and pauses just under my chin.

He tilts my face up. I open my eyes and am swept away again by the searing heat in his untamed eyes. I couldn’t move if I wanted to.

He pinches strands of my hair between his thumb and finger, then slides them down until he’s close to the ends.

Then he curls them around his finger. With gentle force, he pulls the wrapped curl.

My head follows the movement, exposing the side of my neck.

He bends down and inhales. The rest of the world falls away as his lips brush against my ear, sending shivers of blazing heat over my skin.

My breath catches, and I don’t dare breathe.

“One day soon, I’m going to fuck you with that dress on.” His voice is loud enough for only me to hear. It’s desperate and raw, tender and dangerous. Already, I’m replaying his promise in my head. Fluttering sensations settle low in my belly, andmoisture settles between my legs.