Neon Blue E Frost (speld decodable readers .TXT) 📖

am conflicted. Maybe you’re working hard on making me conflicted. But I’m not so conflicted that I don’t know that the biggest threat to my safety right now is you.”

A neon glimmer between his dark eyelashes. “Think so?”

“I know so,” I snap.

“Mmm.”

I hold up my hands in exasperation. “What? Now you’re going to tell me you’re not a threat?”

“No, I was thinkin’ that maybe I need to introduce you to somethin’ bigger an’ scarier than me.”

I twist back around in my seat and bang my forehead against the window. “Oh, yes, that’s going to make me feel so much better.”

Chapter 23

At the restaurant, he orders a sushi boat, which is kind of cool, because the sushi really does come served on a miniature wooden boat, but which is also kind of obscene, because it’s more sushi than ten people should eat, let alone two. And it takes the poor sushi chef ages to make it.

Watching the sushi chef labor doesn’t seem to bother anyone but me. The restaurant’s empty this early in the evening and the sushi chef seems glad to be occupied. The demon’s happy to wait. He orders saki and placidly sips the hot wine while we sit at the counter and watch the shokuninroll and wrap the rice and fish into neat, colorful parcels.

Did you eat a lot of sushi in Japan? I ask, mostly to make conversation. We haven’t spoken much since the car. Both the silence and the content of our last conversation are bothering me. Probably will bother me for a long time. Am I really hiding from my own power? Am I endangering myself and those around me by refusing to accept everything I can do? And why is safety important to a demon?

Not much. Masaharo and Hoshi-san weren’t into feedin’ me. He leers around his saki cup. They were more into the orgy side of things. When I did eat, I never got to see it made . . . fascinatin’, isn’t it?

I nod in agreement. The sushi chef’s agile fingers turn the unprepossessing clumps of rice and strips of fish into miniature works of art. Each is beautifully displayed. He finishes a pair of salmon nigiri and places them side-by-side on the sushi boat so that the striping of fat in the deep orange fish creates a chevron. The demon smiles and silently toasts the shokuninwith his saki cup.

That’s almost too pretty to eat, I think.

The demon’s dark gaze slides over me. Nothing’s too pretty to eat.

I shiver. He hasn’t touched me. Barely even looked at me. And I’m still flushing with heat. How do you do that?

He chuckles into my mind, deep and wicked. Natural talent. He takes another sip of saki. Go to the bathroom.

What? I don’t need to—

Want me to jump you out here?

No! Fine, fine. I’ll go.

I pick up my handbag and flee to the bathroom. Running cool water over my wrists and patting it on my flushed cheeks helps. Until I hear his thought, like a warm breath in my ear. Unlock the door.

Automatically, I turn and unlock the bathroom door. The demon slides through and locks it again behind him.

“This is the ladies room,” I point out.

Like I give a fuck.

He backs me up against the sink. Before he even touches me, electric sparks are jumping between us, crackling across my skin, flaring his dreadlocks. He slides one huge hand around my waist and pulls me tight against his body. His heat hits me like a physical force, sinks into me, tightening everything from belly to groin, while the rest of my body goes limp and languid. I clutch at his leather jacket and his dark chuckle fills my mind.

Then his mouth is descending. I arch up onto my toes to reach him and his other arm comes around me, holds me tighter, closer, crushing me against that hard chest. He widens his stance as his mouth nudges mine. His tongue presses into my mouth; his erection presses against my belly, and I’m lost. I don’t care where we are or what’s going on around us. I need him, with an intensity that would be frightening if I could spare a thought to be afraid.

I climb my way up him and he helps me, lifting me until I’m balanced on the edge of the sink and can wrap my legs around him. We kiss looking into each other’s eyes, the way we did last night. His eyes are dark and deep and wicked as his chuckle. He rubs against me, grinding his erection against my pubic bone. A warm, sexy ache. I claw at him, wanting more, wanting all that hot skin against mine. He lets me tear off his jacket and the black sweater underneath. He pushes my clothes out of the way until we’ve got what we both want, skin on skin. One of his huge hands closes on my breast and I nearly swoon into the sink.

Sensitive. He rubs my nipple with his thumb. His other hand kneads my hip, my ass, pulling me tighter against him. His hips rock against mine. The slow, sweet rhythm he uses when he’s inside me. Need balloons up from my groin, expands until it consumes me.

Please, I think fuzzily.

Yeah, you want somethin’? He eats at my mouth, sucking on my tongue.

I want— It’s hard to say. Hard even to think. Sex in public is so not me.

Right here? He tilts my head back with his chin, licks his way from my mouth to my ear. Right now?

I shudder. Give in. Yes. Yes, please.

What if I say no?

I clutch at him. Please. Please, Jou.

His chuckle slides through my head. Mmm. However I want, right?

The heartbeat pounding between my legs increases, rising to a frantic tempo. Yes, however you want.

Then I got a surprise for you. He reaches between us, unbuttons his jeans and works them down over his hips. Mine follow. He takes his time working mine off, stroking my thighs, my calves, his hands hot on my skin.