Everlife (Everlife #3)

Shivers slip down my spine and spread to every limb. Resist! I’m supposed to seduce Killian, not the other way around. Not yet, anyway.

“Let’s be wild and crazy and splurge for once,” I say, my tone as dry as the desert. “We’ll shower separately.” Even though I would be wise to keep this boy in my sight at all times. But then, I’ve already established I’m a few cards short of a deck.

“Your loss.” He shrugs, as if my answer mattered very little to him, though he can’t stop the tingle of disappointment that arcs through our bond.

To hide a smile, I turn on my heel and study my surroundings.

If home is where the heart is, Killian’s heart is empty. There’s no furniture, only a backpack in the far corner. There are no pictures on the walls, no decorations of any kind.

Now I’m the disappointed one. I’d hoped my husband’s decor style would teach me more about him and his turbulent past.

Learn the past, ensure a better future. True for both of us.

Killian stalks forward, leading me down a hallway, through the master bedroom—as empty as the rest of the house—and into a bathroom.

“Where are we, exactly?” I ask.

“Oklahoma City.”

“And no one cares that the owner of this house is never home?”

“It’s a ranch house on thirty acres of land. No one notices.” He fishes a yellow towel out of the cabinet and tosses it my way. “When you’re done, a new Shell will be waiting in the bedroom.” He moves to the door, hand curled around the knob.

“Wait.” What if he returns to Troika while I’m distracted? Or messages his Leader, and I emerge, soaking wet, to find the house overrun with MLs determined to capture me? Argh! I’m dumb, but I’m not that dumb. “I’ve changed my mind. We’re showering together.”

He turns so fast he might have whiplash in the morning. The crystalline flecks in his eyes flare with Light as he shakes his head. “I think I misheard. Did you say you had changed yer mind?”

Annnd we’re back. I melt like butter.

“I did. Soon we’ll be rushing headlong into danger. Why not enjoy the moment?” Wetting my lips, trembling with nervousness, I drop the towel and remove my catsuit. Head high, I stand before Killian in nothing but my bra and panties. A matching set, black, and just about as sexy as—zero! I can’t think of a decent comparison. The circuits in my brain are fraying, connections misfiring.

Despite the plainness of my undergarments, his gaze heats as it slides over me, and I begin to tremble for an entirely different reason.

“Your turn,” I croak.

“You got two more pieces tae remove.”

No, oh, no. What little resistance I have, well, it will crumble. “Our underwear stays on.”

Motions clipped rather than smooth, he strips down to his underwear and the wrist cuffs. I’m utterly mesmerized. Every cut of muscle…every tattoo… Now that I know what the images mean—the treasures he’d hidden throughout his realm, the people he misses—they are even more beautiful to me.

I reach for the knobs in the stall blindly…there! Twist. Water sprays from the spout. Soon, steam fills the room, creating a warm, dreamlike haze. As Killian approaches, my tremors intensify. His hand brushes mine, and I jolt. My breaths go shallow.

“Yer in control, yeah,” he says. “We do nothin’ you doona want tae do.”

I nod. He twines his fingers with mine and pulls me into the stall. The hot cascade of water rains over me, soaking my hair, my skin.

“Goin’ tae clean you up now.” He shampoos and conditions my hair, then picks up a bar of soap and lathers me up, his fingers traversing every inch of me, even beneath my undergarments… Such an intimate act. “Or am I makin’ yer thoughts dirtier, hmm, lass?”

“You are.” I’m aching and quaking, reduced to sizzling need. “But I will resist until you remember me.”

“I remember what you taste like. Heaven.”

Shivering, I take the soap to return the favor, driving him wild. “Our first time—my first time with anyone— will be a memory I relive again and again for the rest of my Secondlife. I have enough regrets, and don’t want this to be one of them. Don’t want to be vulnerable with a boy I can’t trust. I want to give myself to a boy I love and who knows he loves me.”

His muscles tense under my hands. My gaze chases the bubbles sliding over his skin, and I like my lips.

Temptation made flesh…

Stay strong!

He cups my jaw, and I lean into his touch. “I think you like bein’ the giver as much as the receiver, lass.” He sounds surprised.

“Why wouldn’t I? Your body is a work of art. A true masterpiece.”

Water droplets catch in his eyelashes as he smiles. “Wet is a good look for you, lass. Strike that. Everything is a good look for you.”

Irresistible boy. I lift my lips to press against—

What are you doing? Stop! I can’t kiss him a second time. I won’t be able to stop again. Look how little control I have right now.

“We’re clean,” I say, my tone harder than I intend.

Bending down, he nuzzles his cheek against mine and runs his hands down my sides to clasp my hips. “Yeah, but my thoughts are still dirty.”

A grin blooms. Charming boy. “I’m getting away from you before I decide to spend the rest of my life in bed with you.”

“I know what gets my vote.”

Laughing, I hop out of the shower and scoop up the towel.

Killian exits soon after, drops his soaked underwear, and grabs a towel from the cabinet. I catch a glimpse of his perfect butt before he anchors the white cotton around his waist.

He casts me an odd look before he stalks into the master bedroom. I follow just in time to watch him disappear inside the closet.

“Killian?”

“I’m dressing. You’re welcome to watch if you’d like.”

His accent is gone again. Not a good sign.

I probably should watch him. I mean, just to keep tabs on him. Got to protect myself, and all that.

Just as I step forward, he exits fully dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. Disappointment flares. He tosses a handful of garments my way, including a new bra and panty set. In neon pink. The tags are still in place, but my shadows do not care; they spring from hiding to prick me with jealousy.

This. This is why I don’t want to be with him until he remembers me.

“You keep lingerie in your safe house?” I ask, one brow arched. “In my size.”

“I keep lingerie in all sizes.”

Ugh. The accent is still gone. “Why?” The same reason he has top-of-the-line conditioner in his shower, most likely. And I doubt it has anything to do with a dislike for split ends.

“Better question. Why not? I recruit women. Women like presents. I like women.” For some reason, he won’t meet my eyes, and his cheeks are flushed.

What’s going on? He’s not embarrassed. Or is he?

“You used to like women,” I grumble. “Now you like me.”

“And you’re not a woman?”

“I—oh!” I’ve talked myself into a trap, and I know it. “I’m a woman, yes, but I’m yours.”

He casts me another one of those odd looks, and I have no idea what it means. There’s something almost…vulnerable about him.

My Killian is never vulnerable. Is he?

Silent, he heads down the hall. I hang back, exchanging one set of undergarments for another, then don the rest of the clothing. A tight, white T-shirt and equally tight leather pants. As soon as I’m decent, I comb my fingers through my hair and trail his wet footprints to a room on the other side of the house, where at least twenty Shells peer at me through empty eye sockets.

He motions to a female with shoulder-length white hair and black brows. A silver hoop pierces her bottom lip, and the Myriadian symbol is tattooed on her neck. A black tank top molds to her very large chest, and a pair of short shorts displays the long length of her legs. Combat boots complete the outfit.

Prick, prick. “Why do you keep female Shells here? And don’t tell me they’re gifts, because you can’t give the humans you hope to recruit a Shell that is intended for a spirit.”

“Who said the gifts are always for humans?”

Right. PRICK.