Jennifer Armentrout: Onyx

Visions of me against the wall at my house and Daemon kissing me danced in my head like sugarplums. Parts of my body tingled. Oh, so not a good sign. “Daemon, someone is going to see us.”

“So?” He gently picked up my hand. “Not like anyone is going to say a thing to me.”

I drew in a deep breath. His scent was on my tongue. Our chests touched. Body said yes. Katy said no. I wasn’t affected by this. Not by how close we were or how his fingers were sliding under the sleeve of my cardigan. It wasn’t real . “So my trace has faded, but this stupid connection hasn’t?”

“Nope.”

Disappointed, I shook my head. “What does that mean, then?”

“I don’t know.” His fingers were completely under my sleeve, smoothing up my forearm. His skin—it hummed like electricity. There was nothing like it.

“Why do you keep touching me?” I asked, flustered.

“I like to.”

God, I liked it, too, and I shouldn’t. “Daemon…”

“But back to the trace. You know what that means.”

“That I don’t have to see your face outside of school?”

He laughed, and it rumbled through me. “You’re no longer at risk.”

Somehow, and I really haven’t a clue how, my free hand was against his chest. His heart beat was fast and strong. So did mine. “I think the not-seeing-your-face part outweighs the safe part.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” His chin brushed my hair and then slid over my cheek. I shivered. A spark passed from his skin to mine, humming in the charged air around us. “If that makes you feel better, but we both know it’s a lie.”

“It’s not a lie.” I tipped my head back. His breath was a warm stroke against my lips.

“We’re still going to be seeing each other,” he murmured. “And don’t even lie. I know that makes you happy. You told me you wanted me.”

Hold your horses. “When?”

“At the lake.” He slanted his head, and I should’ve pulled back. His lips curved knowingly against mine, and he let go of my wrist. “You said you wanted me.”

Both of my hands were on his chest. They had a mind of their own. I claimed no responsibility for them. “I had a fever. Lost my mind.”

“Whatever, Kitten.” Daemon gripped my hips, lifting me onto the edge of the desk with an ease that was disturbing. “I know better.”

My breath was coming in short gasps. “You don’t know anything.”

“Uh huh. You know, I was worried about you,” he admitted, moving forward, easing my legs apart. “You kept calling out my name, and I kept answering, but it was like you couldn’t hear me.”

What were we talking about? My hands were on his lower stomach. His muscles were hard underneath the sweater. I slid my hands to his sides, totally meaning to push him away. Instead, I gripped and pulled him forward. “Wow, I must’ve been really out of it.”

“It…scared me.”

Before I could respond or even give thought to the fact that my sickness actually scared him, our lips met. My brain clicked off as my fingers dug through his sweater, and…and oh, God, his kisses were deep, scorching my lips as his hands tightened on my waist, pulling me against him.

Daemon kissed like he was a man starving for water, taking long, breathless drafts. His teeth caught my lower lip when he pulled away, only to come back for more. A heady mix of emotions warred inside me. I didn’t want this, because it was just the connection between us. I kept telling myself that, even as I slid my hands up his chest and circled them around his neck. When his hands inched under my shirt, it was as though he reached deep inside me, warming every cell, filling every dark space within me with the heat from his skin.

Touching him, kissing him, was like having a fever all over again. I was on fire. My body burned. The world burned. Sparks flew. Against his mouth, I moaned.

There was a POP! and CRACK!

The smell of burned plastic filled the cubicle. We pulled apart, breathing heavily. Over his shoulder I saw thin strips of smoke wafting from the top of the ancient monitor. Good God, was this going to happen every time we kissed?

And what in the hell was I doing? I’d decided I wasn’t going to let this happen with Daemon, which meant no kissing…or touching. The way he’d treated me when we first met still stung. The pain and embarrassment lingered in me.

I pushed him. Hard . Daemon let go, staring at me like I’d kicked his puppy into traffic. Looking away, I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth. It didn’t work. Everything about him was still around me, in me. “God, I don’t even like this—kissing you.”

Daemon straightened, coming to his full height. “I beg to differ. And I think this computer tells a different story, too.”

I shot him a dirty look. “That—that will never happen again.”

“And I think you’ve said that before,” he reminded me. When he saw my expression, he sighed. “Kat, you enjoyed that—just as much as I did. Why lie?”

“Because it’s not real,” I said. “You didn’t want me before.”

“I did—”

“Don’t you dare say you wanted me, because you treated me like I was the Antichrist! You can’t just undo that because there’s a stupid connection between us.” I sucked in a sharp breath as an icky feeling spread through my chest. “You really hurt me then. I don’t think you even know. You humiliated me in front of an entire lunch room!”

Daemon looked away, dragging his fingers through his hair. A muscle popped out in his jaw. “I know. I’m…I’m sorry for how I treated you, Kat.”

Shocked, I stared at him. Daemon never apologized. Like, ever. Maybe he really… I shook my head. His apology wasn’t enough. “Even now, we’re all the way hidden in the library, as if you don’t want people to know you made a mistake that day and acted like a dick. And I’m supposed to be okay with that now?”

His eyes widened. “Kat—”

“I’m not saying we can’t be friends, because I want to. I do like you a lo—” I cut myself off before I said too much. “Look, this didn’t happen. I’m going to blame aftereffects of the flu or that a zombie ate my brain.”

His brows furrowed. “What?”

“I don’t want this with you.” I started to turn, but he caught my arm. I glared at him. “Daemon…”

He looked at me straight on. “You’re a terrible liar. You do want this. Just as badly as I do.”

My mouth opened, but no words came out.

“You want this as badly as you want to go to ALA this winter.”

Now my jaw was on the floor. “You don’t even know what ALA is!”

“The American Library Association midwinter event,” he said, grinning proudly. “Saw you obsessing over it on your blog before you got sick. I’m pretty sure you said you’d give up your firstborn child to go.”

Yeah, I kind of did say that.

Daemon’s eyes flashed. “Anyway, back to the whole you-wanting-me part.”

I shook my head, dumbfounded.

“You do want me.”

Taking a deep breath, I struggled with my temper…and my amusement. “You are way too confident.”

“I’m confident enough to wager a bet.”

“You can’t be serious.”

He grinned. “I bet that by New Year’s Day, you will have admitted that you’re madly, deeply, and irrevocably—”

“Wow. Want to throw another adverb out there?” My cheeks were burning.

“How about irresistibly?”

I rolled my eyes and muttered, “I’m surprised you know what an adverb is.”

“Stop distracting me, Kitten. Back to my bet—by New Year’s Day, you’ll have admitted that you’re madly, deeply, irrevocably, and irresistibly in love with me.”