Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
With how often she lifts things off me, I probably should have been wondering if she’d done it again to serve her purposes. It never crossed my mind, though. I don’t know if that’s naive … or progress. Still, if she’s creating enemies on the crew, I need to know. “Tell me.”
“Okay, fine. I stole a tiny little ring off the captain. But it’s not like I have it anymore, so no one can prove it.” She grins. “Easy peasy.”
I don’t comment that the crew member she sold it to could use that as proof of her thievery. I suspect if they were going to do that, it would’ve already happened. There is no honor among this crew, and Hedd has no one to blame but himself. “Do you think you can manage to restrain yourself until we get onto another ship? Hedd is a bastard, and he’s vicious when he’s crossed. I wouldn’t lose sleep over killing him—if I’m even capable of it—but it would complicate things and draw further attention to us.” Evelyn is silent for so long that I pause and look up to meet her green eyes. “What?”
“Bowen,” she says slowly. “Did you just offer to murder the captain for me? How did you know that was my love language?” Before I can come up with a suitable response to that—if there even is one—she points to the second bowl. “Clean that off and then start on the next one.”
I finish inking the first glyph and sit back. “I mean to keep you safe. No matter what that requires.” I quickly wash off the tool and settle back to start the second glyph. “I know you’re joking, but it’s the truth.”
“I know.” She strokes her fingers lightly over my thighs. “I appreciate you and the lengths you’re willing to go. I know I came into your life and dropped a bomb. You’ve been adapting better than I could’ve expected, and frankly, I’m a little surprised you don’t hate me.”
I frown, concentrating as I work along a trio of fine dots. “It would be incredibly unfair of me to hate you for asking questions. You didn’t create the Cŵn Annwn, and you didn’t create their laws. You certainly didn’t have anything to do with how Threshold itself is set up.”
“Of course not. But there’s that old saying about shooting the messenger, and all that.”
“I can infer what you’re talking about, but I have no idea what you’re referencing.” I pause. “I think it would be best if you stop stroking my thighs. It’s incredibly distracting and I don’t want to do this incorrectly.”
Evelyn’s smile takes on a mischievous lilt. “You’re so blunt. I love that. Maybe next time you can practice with paint and we can see just how much distraction you can handle before you start making a mess.”
“Evelyn.” I have to pause and take a long breath to still my shaking hand. “Please.”
Her laugh is music to my ears. She bites her bottom lip. “Okay, okay, fine. I’ll be good so you can finish the job. But unless I’m mistaken, we have a few free hours after this. I think we both deserve a reward …”
CHAPTER 25
Evelyn
I’VE NEVER CONSIDERED TATTOOS TO BE FOREPLAY. I’M not above a little slap and tickle, but the witch who taught me this trick with prepping my spells was a grizzled older being. They were mean right down to the very bones. Submitting to the first round of tattooing was a trial to be born. Since then, I’ve mostly done it myself since there are few people I’d trust enough to let them mess with my spells. When you’re trying not to fuck up tattooing yourself, the last thing on your mind is sex.
The last thing on my mind right now … well, sex is right at the forefront.
I’m only human, and Bowen is too fucking attractive for my state of mind. He’s kneeling over my body, a line of concentration between his dark brows as he delicately inks the last tattoo. That would be sexy enough, but his big cock is pressing against his breeches. Right. Fucking. There.
This process is important. It’s pretty vital that my tattoos don’t get messed up, because without them I’ll be next to defenseless. Bowen is taking this seriously. I should be doing so as well. But I can’t stop myself from giving his thighs little teasing strokes. The third time I do it he reaches over and absently smacks my hand. “Stop that.”
The man might as well have waved a red flag in front of a bull. I manage to restrain myself until he’s nearly finished. Only then do I set my hands on his hips and run my thumbs up the length of his cock.
Bowen freezes. His expression goes purely forbidding. He sits up and carefully sets the tools aside. I’m already playing with fire, so I stroke his cock through his pants again. His response happens so quickly, I barely have time to process it.