I shut up is what I do, because saying I’m not usually a casual sex person because I’m clingy doesn’t sound like a smart or respectable thing to say.
“Anyway,” I go on quickly, deciding to change the subject completely before he can weigh in on the dropped comment, “Mom and I used to do birthdays—”
I stop talking again when someone races by, and Vance is up and off the mushrooms, intercepting the man.
I’m not sure what they say or what happens, because they turn and simply dart out. A familiar body presses up against mine from behind, and I feel an arm snake around my waist like Damien’s gotten a confidence boost from the attention tonight.
“Happy birthday,” Damien says close to my ear.
“Thank you for the party,” I say a little distractedly, wondering why Vance had to take off.
“The party is just getting started, Violet. Just wait until everyone really gets going.”
Damien’s phone must go off, because he keeps his arm around me as he glances down at it. I turn to see him frowning.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he says, pocketing his phone and smiling tightly at me.
“Vance just ran out of here without a word, and now you’re lying to me.”
“We’re alphas, Violet. We’re unfortunately privy to information you’re not,” he says, making me feel a little ridiculous, since I have no idea why I feel entitled to all answers.
I start to apologize, but he suddenly lifts me, spins me around, and we’re on the dance floor in less than a trapped breath. He moves me to the music that is so…I don’t even know what to call it. I’ve never heard music like it before.
Sort of a beautiful melancholy tune that continues through one song after the next.
“You and I are going to enjoy your birthday together, you’re going to get completely intoxicated, and I’m going to hold your hair away from your mortal lips when you spew it all back out,” he says, using an eloquent tone for the most ineloquent birthday promise ever.
“Aren’t you going to at least introduce me to everyone?”
He shudders like that’s a terrible thought. “Of course not.”
“Why?” I ask as he pulls me to the center of the dance floor, apparently wanting his feet stepped all over when he stops carrying me and starts expecting me to dance on my own.
He tips my chin and winks at me, as he says, “Because they don’t really matter.”
As I step all over his feet and earn a few grunts, I try to look at it through his eyes. All these people will just forget him if enough time passes, as though they can’t put in the effort to want to see him before it happens.
He’s so lonely that he stalks me just to keep me from forgetting. And he threw me a birthday party. The first one I’ve had since I was thirteen.
“Is the party my gift?” I ask on a small smile as my arms twine a little tighter around his neck, my body relaxing as his arms get tighter on my waist.
“Well, I have two gift options,” he says, moving me around on the dance floor. “The first is a traditionally wrapped, very appropriate gift. It’s in my bedroom. The second is a completely unwrapped and entirely inappropriate gift,” he says, adding the last part jokingly. “Also in my bedroom.”
He winces and bends when I land hard on his foot, and I shove at his chest when he groans and laughs. “All gypsies can dance,” he says on a teasing sigh.
I roll my eyes as he turns and guides me up the stairs, even as I sort of smile.
Everyone tries to be in his line of view, and I can’t deny that I also feel the pull of his presence the more the night goes on.
“You’re probably the most physically perfect man I’ve ever seen. Is it all an illusion for me? Because most of the time people seem to look right by you. I’ve never really realized how often until I finally see everyone noticing you the way they should tonight,” I say as we go up the stairs.
He huffs out a somewhat sad laugh, as we finally turn down the hallway toward his bedroom.
Our fingers lace together like it’s a casual, nonchalant sort of thing to do.
“I had you a surprise party all lined up, and I was going to hand you your gift at midnight, but you decided to traipse in circles around town for however long. The whole damn town smelled like you,” he says as he gives me a look.
I’m not sure why I smile. However, it’s clear he’s deliberately deflecting.
“I tried calling you.”
“Phones are down,” he states immediately. “They’ll be back on sporadically, but if things keep going like this, there will be little electrical currents in the air that cause random blackouts.”
Again, the mention of electrical currents has me swallowing a little harder than necessary.
Lightning will strike the same place a lot more than twice if I’m standing anywhere without salt, rubber, and shelter.
“Doubtful it’ll come to that. Afraid of the dark, Violet?” he muses as he moves to the dresser.
“Only since I started hanging out with monsters,” I absently quip.
A beautiful pink box is tied with a black satin bow. The box is a perfect, small square. I’m smiling as I take it, deciding to drop the other topic, since he has no clue about the conversation I’m having in my head.
Gently, I pull the ribbon free and open it up. I realize he’s a very thorough stalker when I see what’s inside.
“I know you have those little pink satin trimmings you put in your bra—”
“You watch me when I undress?” I ask as I roll my eyes, battling the stupid, very inappropriate smile on my face as I touch the smooth, strong satin.
It was an invasion of privacy not that long ago. Why am I now smiling about it?
“Only when you’re kind enough to do it in front of the salt line or leave the door open,” he deadpans.
It occurs to me how I could keep him from spying, now that he’s said that, and I school my features so I don’t give it away.
I wonder if he can’t cross a salt line without losing his illusion. And if he breaks my salt line, I’ll feel it.
“Does that earn me gratitude, or was it too understated? I thought about getting you a car, but worried that’d be obnoxious,” he adds as he pulls out the ribbons he has no clue serve the purpose they do, and I just slowly slip out of my shoes.
He doesn’t give me any reaction when I put my hand on his arm. “I almost got you a different color, but realized everything you buy for yourself is pink, aside from your clothes. You have no pink clothing actually—”
He stops talking when I get on my tiptoes and drag his face down to mine.
He kisses me in surprise at first, but then he drops the box, and his arms go around my waist as he deepens the kiss. It’s easy to be bold with Damien, since he’s a sexual deviant by nature.
“Can I be greedy and take both gift options?” I ask against his lips, trying to play this smooth…but sounding…so cheesy.
He kisses me harder, one hand coming up to gently, but firmly, cup the back of my head like he’s worried I’ll pull back at any second, and he plans to keep me here.
He lifts me suddenly, and my legs go around his waist as he carries me over to the bed with just one arm shelfed under my ass.
I’m not sure what kind of strength he has to lower us as quickly and gracefully as he does, but my back comes down on the bed without me ever feeling the slightest bit unsteady.
“To be clear,” he says as he kisses his way down my neck, “you meant me and not the car, right?”
I’m not sure why I laugh, but I feel his smile against my chest as he kisses his way down, his breath heating me through the fabric of my shirt.
Suddenly he’s off me, and I dart a look around.
“Surely you didn’t think I was going to take you like a common horny teenager,” he says from somewhere in the room.
I feel breath at my cheek, and I jerk my gaze there.
The warm breath comes at my other cheek, just as Damien’s body fills in the space and presses against my back.
“There are rules with me,” he murmurs against my cheek.
I see his hand when it comes up my hip, pushing my jeans down as he kisses his way across my neck.