When the Woods Go Silent (Haret Chronicles: Dark Fae #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

R UBY

“Don’t you have employees to do some of this?” I ask, hoping it doesn’t sound too much like complaining.

Torrence had invited me to meet him at the restaurant fast enough after I sent my text, but ever since I got here, all I’ve been doing is watching him chop vegetables and make pastry dough for tomorrow night’s dinner service. I don’t know much about running a restaurant, but this seems like grunt work.

“I enjoy it,” he says, barely looking up from the pot he’s stirring for yet another sauce.

I swallow a sigh, leaning back against the upper cabinets while my legs dangle from the edge of the counter I’m perched on. It was cool for about half an hour, watching him work, all sexy and stuff as he moved around the kitchen and showed off his knife skills and muscles while kneading bread dough. And of course, tasting things is always fun. Now, I’m just freaking bored, but I’m staying quiet about it because I don’t want to come across as a nag.

“Want to head to your place after you’re done? Maybe watch a movie?” I suggest, since he hadn’t seemed interested in hiking when I suggested it earlier.

“No,” Torrence says shortly, and I press my lips together to keep from mouthing off at him. Part of me knows I’m being petty, ignoring all his red flags just because Rose was so down on him earlier. But I have my limits, and he’s starting to tick me off. “Arlo and the others will be there. It’s no place for guests,” he adds after a few seconds, finally making eye contact with me.

“Bachelor pad, hmm,” I say, nodding like I understand. I mean, how bad could it be? Does he share a room or something? I thought this place was successful. Surely he has money, unless he sucks at managing it.

“I don’t date, Ruby,” he reminds me, turning his head to give me a sexy little bad-boy smirk. “I don’t go to dinner or bring flowers or watch movies.”

“Just sleep around?” I roll my eyes. He’s so on and off with me, and it’s getting old.

“Don’t do much of that, either.”

I’m starting to regret blowing Rose off for this. I should have listened to her and had a girls’ night. “All work and no play, then. Maybe I’ll just go find someone else to have a play date with.”

Torrence turns around and leans on the edge of the stove, his eyes flashing fire at me. I smirk back at him. He doesn’t like that idea, does he? I guess it’s time I start playing a different game and figure out what he wants from me.

“Maybe we’re better off as friends, anyway. Hiking buddies. I mean, you’re hot as Hades, but I do like flowers.”

“Buddies?” Torrence echoes, like he’s never heard the word before. He sets the wooden spoon down on the counter and flicks the stove off. Here’s the moment of truth, when I find out if he’s actually interested in me. I shrug at him.

“Yeah, like bros. Hey, who was that guy you sent over today with the samples? He was pretty hot. Does he date?”

Something my romance books would only describe as a growl rumbles in his chest, and I have to fight the urge to giggle. So he likes me enough to get jealous.

“You will never see him again. I forbid it.” Torrence crosses his arms over his chest.

And that? That makes me lose it. Laughter spills out as I shake my head at him, and he scowls. “You forbid it? What are we, in the eighteen hundreds, and you’re my older brother?”

He glares so hard I think his eyes cross. “What do you want from me?”

“What do you want from me ?” I return, hands on my hips as he stalks toward my perch. I think about hopping down, but then I wouldn’t be able to look him straight in the eyes as his palms slap the counter on either side of my thighs.

“Look, I get it if you’re busy with the restaurant. That’s cool. But why invite me over if you’re just going to ignore me? I’m worth more than-”

His lips seal over mine, cutting off the rest of my words. I make a half-hearted effort to shove him off, slapping at his stupid muscley chest, but by the Goddess, he’s even better at kissing than cooking. What I’d rather do is tackle him to the ground and forget all about my plans to take things slow.

His arm circles my waist and yanks me forward, my knees spreading against either side of his hips. Even sitting on the counter, I have to tilt my head a little. His hand slides up my spine and tangles in my hair, giving it a warning tug that says we’re definitely more than bros. I grin around the kiss, squeezing him in the vise of my thighs.

“You know, I don’t really care about movies. They’re just an excuse to be in the dark together,” I murmur against his lips.

“I like that you’re a midnight creature,” he says, his voice all gravelly and needy. I feel victorious.

“Give me moonlight and stars any day over a hot sun.”

“What about ice and snow?” His lips are skimming my neck now, pausing to suck at the hollow of my throat before he kisses along my collarbone. I tilt my head back and rest it on the cabinet as he nibbles and kisses the top swell of my breasts, tugging down the neckline of my shirt. The way he’s fisting my hair and teasing my skin makes me imagine so many more delightful things, and I feel my body undulating against him, showing him what I really want.

“As long as it doesn’t cool us down,” I say, fingernails digging into his biceps as he pushes my tank top and bra all the way below my nipples, propping my breasts up like a display and exposing them to the chill of the kitchen. His eyes are fastened greedily on my skin, and I lean back to let him look, soaking in the desire that’s radiating from him.

He might not date or sleep around much, but his need for me now is as clear as a full moon on a cloudless night, and it tastes like power on my lips.

Still holding me in place, he swirls his tongue over each nipple in turn, biting gently. I gasp as the skin tightens suddenly with an intense chill, and I look down to find him teasing an ice cube over my sensitive skin.

“Does this cool you down?” he asks with a sly grin. I don’t bother to answer, yanking his mouth back to mine for another consuming kiss as he slowly tortures my nipples with the ice. A whimper escapes my lips as I think I can’t take one more second, and he laughs low and deadly before ducking his head to suck my nipple hard against his tongue.

The sudden heat and pull of pleasure brings my hips off the counter as I wrap my legs even tighter around his waist, desperate for friction at my core.

“I like that you’re greedy, too,” he rasps, grasping under my thighs and flipping me down onto my back on the kitchen floor before I even realize what’s happening.

I have barely enough time to register that the floor is thankfully very clean, before Torrence is ripping at the zipper of my jeans like he can’t wait another second.

“So you do like to play,” I tease, my hands sliding down his body, tugging at the hem of his shirt. I want to see this man’s chest and lick the ridges of every one of those abs I’ve been feeling.

“You make me crazy,” Torrence growls, and for a moment I worry he might actually rip my jeans. And I was really into the ice, but this tile floor is freaking cold.

“Hey,” I manage, pulling away enough to capture his face in my hands. There’s a wild look in his eyes that sends a spark of need straight through me, but I know my mind won’t be able to relax and enjoy the games if I’m too distracted. “This is probably a health code thing.” I bite my lip at my awkwardness, but it barely registers for Torrence as he bends to nip at my breasts again, one hand still tugging my jeans over my hips.

“Don’t fucking care, Midnight.”

The girly part of me takes a pause and squeals internally - he gave me a nickname. I’m officially inside this man’s head. And that means I have the power again here, so I flip my switch to total siren. I can play it both ways, and I’m in the mood to give him a hard time.

Emphasis on hard.

Scooting under his arm, I slide away from his grasp and shimmy out of my jeans, giving Torrence a view of some seriously sexy cheeky undies as I strut out of the kitchen and into the darkened dining room, stripping off my top and bra as I go.

“Coming, ice boy?” I call over my shoulder as I choose a velvet lounge to sprawl across and drop my clothes on the floor. Ooh, much more comfy. For a long second of silence, I worry that I’ve broken the moment and he’s reconsidering.

But then he strides in, shirt tossed over his shoulder, belt and jeans undone to reveal what a hard time he’s already having, and I smile up at him, all kinds of slow and sexy.

Before I can make a move, he grabs me up from the lounge and sits, straddling me across his lap and crushing my naked breasts to his chest. My nipples are tight buds of sensation as I rub against him, feeling so much delicious skin and way too much fabric still in the way.

I’m soaked through the silk of my panties, so freaking ready to feel him inside me. “Condom?” I manage to ask as I feel his cock straining at the thin fabric separating us. I decide I’m officially over the waiting game.

“Wasn’t expecting to need one.” His tongue teases against my lips while he plants one hand on my lower back, fingers digging into my ass.

“Well, I don’t play without protection,” I whisper, disappointment washing through me.

“Not even this game?”

I hum a little moan as Torrence slides his other hand between us and cups me over my panties, one finger stroking my wetness through the silky fabric.

“Let’s see who can score first,” he murmurs, his tongue tracing the shell of my ear. His fingers tug my panties to the side and a breathy moan slides out of my throat as he plunges two fingers deep into my core. I let myself sink into the sensation as he curls his fingers inside me, his thumb rubbing lazy circles around my clit. Goddess, he’s good at this. I didn’t even have to show him where things are.

Then I realize he challenged me.

Inching to one side enough to give myself room, I peel his boxers down and wrap my fingers around the hard heat of his cock. He hisses as I begin to stroke him lightly, playing my thumb over the tip. His thighs bounce my hips lightly up and down as his fingers pick up speed, lips crashing down on mine as my body chases what it wants.

The game is on, and we’re racing each other to the edge.

He’s smooth and velvety between my fingers, his cock thick enough that my fisted fingers barely wrap around him. He’s already leaking pre-cum as his length slides against my palms, and my confidence soars as I hear his breath stuttering in his throat.

“Give in to it,” he demands, growling in my ear before sucking my nipple hard between his teeth. The sudden shock of pain mixed with pleasure jolts me against him, and he takes advantage of the moment, suddenly pressing me flat onto my back on the lounge. My fingers slide too far to reach his cock, but the fire in his eyes tells me he cares much more about winning.

One hand wraps my neck, squeezing just enough to make me breathless, as he adds a third finger inside me, keeping me pinned by his hands and the intense need in his fiery eyes. My body comes alive for him, and pleasure spirals and tightens in ropes around me as I come hard around a strangled cry. My hips arch up to meet his hand as he draws the orgasm out longer and longer, and my eyes slide backward. The fingers around my neck loosen, sliding down across my breasts, and I suck in a gulp of air as my body trembles, my thighs pressing together around his hand as his fingers pump slower inside me.

“Oh my Goddess,” I breathe, still panting a little as he strokes the column of my neck, smirking down at me like he thinks he owns my soul. After a moment of trying to regain my sanity, I grin, remembering I still have work to do. He might have won the race, but I’m no quitter. I wrap one hand around his cock and tug him closer by his balls. My pussy aches with emptiness as he pulls his fingers out and coats himself with my wetness, guiding both my hands to wrap around his cock.

“You even taste like darkness,” he says, sucking his fingers into his mouth and groaning when I begin to stroke him again, skin slick with my desire for him. His eyes slide closed and his hips buck against my hand as I work to pull him right into the same ecstasy I’m still swimming in.

He was already close, and it isn’t long before he comes with a string of growled words I can’t even understand, a wet heat spilling out over my belly and breasts as he braces himself over me, kissing me deeply as he ruts against my stomach. I’m still pulsing between my legs and cursing the lack of condom, when the taste of his mouth on mine begins to register as strange.

“Wait,” I pant, turning my head to the side and avoiding his lips as the traitorous iron smell reaches my nose. Oh no. The extra wetness between my thighs feels suddenly different. Sticky and familiar in a way that brings a flush of embarrassment to my cheeks in the darkened room. Why this? Why now?

I can’t see it, but I know. Somehow, I’ve started my period at the worst possible time, and his fingers are coated in blood. His cock, too. His lips, and now mine. “Don’t-”

Torrence doesn’t listen as he sits back, teasing my swollen clit again before sucking his fingers into his mouth with a deeply satisfied, possessive animal growl. I flinch, already hating how the sexiest moment I’ve had in a while is about to be ruined.

He’s never going to want to see me again when he realizes what’s on his tongue.

“Don’t fucking care , Midnight.” He presses one palm between my breasts, thumbing my nipple as he locks his eyes on mine. I can’t stop watching as he licks his bloodied fingers clean, slowly savoring every bit of me. My jaw is loose, and I feel as though I should be disgusted, but the amber blaze of his eyes and the intense way he’s trapped me in that his gaze are giving the impression of a jaguar, stalking closer. Heat floods my body, and I can’t move.

He knows.

He knows, and he doesn’t care.

This is so different from other guys I’ve been with, who treated my period as a coupon for a week’s worth of blow jobs. I’ve never even had regular sex while bleeding, much less anything like this.

And apparently, Torrence loved it. I’ve always thought of myself as pretty vanilla in the bedroom, but watching him now, so obvious about his desire for every part of me, I realize I just never had the right partner.

Whatever this is, I’m freaking turned on by it, and my mind is racing with all the possibilities someone like Torrence could show me.

His smirk widens, and it feels like he can read every one of my thoughts. “See, Midnight, I play games. But only if I know I’m going to win.”

Before I can gather my wits enough to form any kind of clever comeback, he rises from the lounge and disappears into the kitchen. Returning a few minutes later, he hands me a warm, white towel, and the evidence assaults me all over again as I wipe the spots of fresh blood from between my thighs.

“Um, sorry about...” I gesture to the towel and the lounge, knowing it’s probably going to be stained, too.

“As long as you never call me your buddy again, I’ll let you pay me back in pleasure,” he teases, zipping up his jeans. “And next time, I’ll be better prepared.”

I flush, happy in the idea of next time, and I’ve just retrieved my clothes when a door slams somewhere in the back.

A male voice calls out, the words garbled and unfamiliar, and Torrence’s face darkens, his brows pulling together to hide his eyes. He shouts something back, and I realize with a jolt that he’s speaking a different language altogether. The unseen person laughs, and I feel my face grow hot for a new reason. It’s Arlo, and I have no idea what they’re saying to each other.

“Time for you to go home, Midnight,” Torrence says, his smile gone as he steps away from me, buckling his belt. My breath catches in my throat. We were having a moment, and now I feel shut out again. It reminds me of Rose’s story, how Torrence interrupted her and Arlo. Is this some sort of dumb payback between brothers?

“So you don’t date, and you say you don’t sleep around. What... what is this?” I can’t help but ask, gesturing between us, even though history tells me it’s a bad freaking idea to force a guy into labeling anything too soon. Or ever.

“This? This is a game,” Torrence replies, that sly grin showing up again. Something about it feels so much colder now, though, and I feel my pride begin to freeze like a layer of ice over my desire.

“Awfully bold of you, playing games with a serial killer.” The sharpness of my tone surprises me a little, but he only watches me finish dressing, his smile never slipping.

“Like I said before, I take my chances with death. Go home, killer kitten.”

Another playful nickname, but maybe it doesn’t mean anything at all. Maybe he’s nothing more than a playboy, no matter what he claims.

A shadow darkens the kitchen door, and I see the glint of Arlo’s blond hair.

In a different place, with a different guy, I would have bounced on my toes for a goodbye kiss, or asked him to name a day and place for our “next time.”

But I don’t do that with Torrence. Instead, I ball up the wet towel and toss it at him, enjoying the slap of it against his bare chest. I walk out of the restaurant without another word, hearing the low murmur of Arlo’s voice as I leave.

Torrence is a delicious taste of trouble, just like I thought, but now I need to decide just how many lives this kitten wants to give up to play his games before my heart gets hurt. Whatever the magic number is, I vow to myself on the walk home that whenever there is a next time, I’ll be the one winning.