Chasing Promises: (Capturing Magic, Book 3) Page 9

  “You always smell so good,” he whispers softly.

  As a shiver rolls through my body, I tense. I’m getting way too comfortable again. And this time, I barely even notice.

  “Don’t,” East says, holding on to me. “Please don’t overthink this. Just enjoy it.”

  I want to overthink it. I’ve spent years overthinking everything so I can control everything, so the curse won’t ever be put into play. And while half of my mind wants to seize that control again, because it feels safer, the other half wants to fall into the out of control.

  Maybe it’s the lingering faerie wine filling up my veins. Or maybe whatever sort of creature I am likes this whole touching and dancing thing. Or maybe this is just the real me. The real me that’s been hidden behind the curse.

  Whatever the reason, I find myself unwinding and relaxing against East.

  “That’s a good pet,” he teases.

  I tilt my head up and give him a dirty look, but he just grins. Then he pushes me away, twirls me around like he did earlier, and pulls me back against him. Then we start to move. And I mean really move, our bodies grinding to the rhythm, surrounded by creatures who are doing the same thing.

  The longer we move, the more East’s hands wander across my body. I should stop him, but I don’t want to. It feels so good as his hand travels up my side and rests just below my breast. And while I try to convince myself that I’m just playing a part, playing the role of the bands aftershow woman, I can’t keep the truth from myself. And the truth is I like him touching me. A lot. So much so that, when his hand travels over my breast, I don’t stop him. Instead, I gasp, closing my eyes as my heart pounds inside my chest.

  “You can tell me to stop,” he whispers in my ear, a hint of nervousness residing in his voice.

  An uneven breath falters from my lips.

  Nod, Harlynn.

  Instead, I find myself shaking my head.

  His fingers briefly stiffen, and then he cups my breast. I whimper, momentarily forgetting where I am.

  “Gods, this is better than I even imagined,” he moans in my ear. Then he presses his lips against mine.

  Startled, I suck a shaky breath through my nose and part my lips. He takes that as an open invitation, sweeping his tongue into my mouth. It’s the first time he’s kissed me. Well, besides the first time he put magic in me. I’d forgotten how sparkly he tastes. Wonderfully sparkly.

  I angle my head upward more and kiss him back. He groans again then pulls back.

  My eyelashes flutter open, and I find him looking down at me warily. My stomach starts to sink.

  Did I mess up?

  “I don’t want to be too rough with you,” he utters, removing his hand from my breast and traveling downward to my waist.

  One time, while Asher was kissing me and letting me grind my hips against his, he got this look on his face right before he asked me if I’d done this before. It was like he could see the inexperience written all over my face. That’s how I feel right now.

  “Why?” I find myself asking with a hint of challenge.

  He bites down on his bottom lip. “Sweetheart, you don’t even know what you’re asking about.”

  “So? It’s not like I’m afraid of anything.”

  He slowly shakes his head. “You know, this whole challenging and defiant attitude was amusing when it was going against me. But when it’s directed at me temptingly”—he gradually releases a breath—“it’s a dangerous game you’re playing, little mouse.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m not your little mouse.”

  “Oh yeah?” he teases, still looking a little bit riled up.

  “Yeah.” Then, to prove I have the upper hand, I press my lips to his. It’s a bold move for me and, honestly, I’m just doing it to win this argument.

  The move seems to unleash whatever hesitancy had a hold of him, and he immediately turns the soft kiss into a sensual one, parting my lips with his tongue as he pulls me closer against him. With his fingers, he traces a path across my waist before creating a path upward to my breast again. He touches me then, in a way no one has ever touched me before.

  A faltering gasp fumbles from my lips as the strap of my dress starts to fall off my shoulder. Then his lips leave mine, trailing down my jawline to the arch of my neck where he bites and nips and licks until I feel like I’m about ready to start on fire.

  “East,” I mumble with my eyes shut as he sucks on my neck.

  I grip his arm, feeling like my legs are about to give out on me, and lean against him. With every kiss and suck and brush of his fingers, I drift further away from reality, nearly forgetting where I am. That is … until I smell the scent of frosting and cupcakes …

  My eyelids flutter open. Asher is standing in front of me, starlight flickering across his face. His eyes are dark, his lips are pressed together, and his arms are crossed over his lean, scarred chest. He has on eyeliner and his genie trademark cuffs, along with a pair of black pants and boots.

  When our eyes lock, I don’t know what to do. I mean, East is currently kissing my neck and touching me, our bodies welded so closely together that all I can feel is East. I know I’m supposed to be pretending to be the band’s aftershow woman, but this …

  This is really out of character for me.

  His dark gaze sweeps across my face as I contemplate whether or not I should move away from East. Before I can arrive at that conclusion, though, Asher steps toward me and fixes his finger underneath my chin.

  My heart is racing so swiftly that it pounds in my eardrums. I can sense something’s about to happen. Something I really doubt I’m ready for but know I can’t pull away. Not without it looking suspicious.

  “Relaxare, paulo fur. Sicut promisit, mihi si tibi cura tui,” he utters as East continues to kiss my neck.

  I swallow hard. “You know I don’t know what that means.”

  I don’t expect him to tell me either, since he never does.

  But then he says, “It means: relax, little thief. Like I promised, we’ll take care of you.” Then he presses his lips against mine while East continues to suck on my neck and cup my breast.

  Yep, I’m definitely not ready for this.

  But I also don’t want to stop it. It feels really good.

  I gasp as Asher kisses me deeply, his hand finding my leg. Then he slips his fingers underneath the hem of my dress, grips my thigh, and hitches my leg over his waist.

  I clutch his side as a storm of emotions chaotically course through me. I can barely think, barely breath. The sensations are too much.

  “I can’t …” I gasp between Ash’s kisses. “It’s … It’s too much.”

  “You can,” he whispers, kissing me again then pulling back a sliver of an inch. “If you want us to stop, we will.” He struggles to breathe evenly. “But I promise you’re doing perfectly.”

  Do I really want him to stop, or am I just afraid?

  I don’t know.

  Anything anymore.

  And in that confusion, I end up fucking kissing him.

  Yep, I’m getting really good at taking this whole lead thing.

  He kisses me back, grinding his hips against mine and pushing me against East, who grips onto me tightly and bites my neck. My eyes roll back, and my head bobs back, as well, breaking the kiss from Asher. That doesn’t stop him from kissing me, though. He just moves his lips downward to the exposed arch of my neck while East’s lips come down on mine. He kisses me then, our tongues tangling, and eventually, we all start to find a rhythm, our bodies moving, lips syncing. And with every touch and kiss, I forget about everything. Forget about Harlynn, the weak human girl who stole to survive. Harlynn, the cursed creature. Harlynn, the freak of nature.

  I honestly have no clue who I am anymore.

  East’s lips leave mine, and then he kisses my bare shoulder, while Asher moves his hand upward and cups my face.

  “Good gods,” Asher murmurs as he returns his lips to mine and kisses me for the … Well, I
’m not sure how many times he’s kissed me. And who knows how many times he would’ve kissed me if a deep, throaty laugh didn’t slice through the moment.

  East is the first to startle, his lips leaving my shoulder. Asher breaks the kiss next, but neither of them release me. In fact, they both inch closer to me, East holding my waist while Asher positions himself in front of me.

  I peer over his shoulder to see what has them freaked out and find the female creature East was staring at earlier standing on the other side of him.

  That is … was my master.

  As East words from earlier replay in my mind, I slide my finger up and down his arm in an attempt to ease the tension pouring from his body. He holds on to me in return, lowering his forehead against the back of my head then breathes in deeply.

  “Hello, Asher,” she says, clearly knowing him. But I wonder if it’s because of the band or because she actually knows him.

  “Penelope,” Asher mutters, reaching back and finding my hand. Then he pulls me behind him, a move I find odd.

  Is he trying to keep her from seeing me? Because after what happened on the dance floor, I’m pretty sure everyone has seen me.

  Reality douses over me. I just made out with Ash and East in front of an entire room full of creatures. What the hell came over me? Why did I do that? And why did I like it so much?

  “What are you doing here?” Asher asks her while pulling me closer to him until my cheek is pressed against his scarred back.

  As East loops an arm around my waist, I notice a slight tremble quivering through his body. He’s scared and, weirdly, I can feel his fear.

  “I had a meeting in this world, and one of my servants received an invite to your party,” she says amusedly. But it’s not the same amusement that constantly fills East’s tone. No, her amusement sounds like a taunt. “Once I saw it, I knew I had to stop by, not that I have any interest in being at this ridiculous party. I just thought I’d stop by and see how my old pet is doing.”

  East clings to me tighter, terrified out of his damn mind, and that terror is pulsating through me, but it doesn’t belong to me.

  Something weird is going on …

  Not just with me, but with East.

  Unsure what else to do but wanting to do something to comfort him like he did for me the day Yellow tried to attack me, I reach up, twine my arm around his neck and brush my fingers across the nape. A different shiver rolls through his body. Then he kisses the back of my neck.

  “Well, unfortunately, you’re not going to see him,” Asher tells her in a firm tone. “Since he’s no longer your pet.”

  “Maybe he should be the one to decide that.” Irritation bites her tone.

  “Oh, he decided that the moment his decisions became his own again,” he assures her. “You know, right after he broke away from your control over him.”

  “Yeah, I remember that clearly,” she nearly snaps. “I also remember how you helped steal my favorite pet away.”

  “Yes, I did,” Asher says in a cold tone that sends a chill up my spine.

  Not that I’m afraid of him.

  I’m not.

  Wow, I’m not afraid of him.

  “And you should remember that before you try to start whatever it is you came here to start,” Asher continues, almost seeming to taunt her. “You should also remember what I am and what I can do if want to.”

  “Such violent threats,” she muses, but I can tell she’s a bit unnerved. “You should be careful, Asher. You never know who might be watching you.”

  I hear a poof, and when I peer over Asher’s shoulder, a cloud of smoke has replaced Penelope.

  “Did you do that or her?” I ask Asher as he turns around.

  “I did. She touched me and, therefore, broke her magical signature agreement.” His gaze travels over my shoulder to East. “Are you okay?”

  East hugs me against him and rests his chin on my shoulder, an uneven exhale slipping from his lips. “I am now that she’s gone.”

  “Don’t bullshit me,” Asher warns. “I know it has to be hard for you to see her.”

  “I’m fine,” he insists. “And we probably shouldn’t discuss this any further. At least not right now.”

  Asher takes a glimpse around and frowns at how many sets of eyes are watching us, like he somehow forgot we were in a crowd of his fans.

  “You’re right.” He returns his gaze back to East. “But we’re going to double back to this conversation later.”

  And in that moment, I’m oddly touched at how much Asher seems concerned about East. I mean, I knew they were friends, but Jason and I were never like this. He never checked in on me.

  East grimaces. “Fine.”

  Asher nods then his gaze collides with mine. “Are you okay?”

  I nod confusedly. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s not like I even really know who Penelope is. I mean, I know a little of what she did, but I’m not even sure what she is.”

  “She’s high royalty fey.” Asher’s gaze never wavers from mine. “And I wasn’t referring to Penelope.”

  My brows pull together. “Then what were you referring to?”

  He gives me a look, waiting for me to catch on.

  It takes me a few song beats, but his meaning eventually clicks.

  He’s talking about the whole kissing and touching thing. With him and East.

  East and him.

  Him and East both kissed me and touched me.

  I can feel my cheeks starting to warm, but with the low lighting that the starlight gives off, there’s no way he can notice.

  Right?

  Wrong.

  “You’re blushing,” Asher remarks, his gaze traveling across my face.

  East remains strangely quiet behind me, making me question if he isn’t okay at all.

  “I am not,” I lie, lifting my chin.

  “You are fucking, too,” he argues.

  “Am not—”

  He silences me with a kiss. It’s a quick kiss, and before I can even register the feel of his lips against mine, he pulls back.

  “Come on; let’s get our performance started,” he says to no one in particular. Then he spins on his heels and pushes his way through the crowd, heading off in the direction of a set of curtains covering the far back corner of the wall.

  East sighs softly then moves up beside me and laces his fingers through mine. He pulls me with him as he weaves past the mob of creatures grinding up on each other on the dance floor. He says nothing, even when the crowd dwindles as we near the curtain. It’s completely unlike him, and I find myself wanting to comfort him again.

  Once we step behind the curtain, which turns out is blocking the stage, I ask, “Are you okay?”

  A handful of creatures are setting up the instruments and, weirdly, Asher is nowhere to be seen. Neither is Arrow.

  East gives a dismissive shake of his head as he stops beside the stairway that leads to the stage framed with dark columns wrapped by silk and stars.

  “I’m always fine.” He gives me the fakest smile.

  “I know that’s not true,” I tell him. “I can tell … and feel it.”

  His gaze snaps to me, his forehead furrowing. “You can feel what I’m feeling?”

  I nod then blow out a sigh. “Do you think it’s my powers doing it?”

  He shakes his head while carrying my gaze. “No, I think it’s mine.”

  “You can do that?” I ask with wide eyes.

  He gives a hesitant nod. “It’s a faerie thing. But we only use that power in rare circumstances.”

  “Like what?”

  “Hmm … I don’t think I should tell you right now.”

  “Why not?”

  He shrugs, directing his attention back to the stage, the tension returning to his body. And to mine.

  I can’t stand this, feeling so much pain flowing off him. When I first met him, I thought he was nothing but a shallow faerie. He’s not, though. He’s full of anguish and pain, and he cares about the creatures
close to him so much. I think he might even care about me, even though it freaks the pixies out of me. And I care about him, too. Just care, though. That’s all. Because, for now, that’s all it can be.

  Unsure of what else to do, I reach up and brush my fingers along his cheek. His skin is so soft. I didn’t realize that until now.

  His gaze skates to me, and a trace of that amusement that so often drives me crazy, but right now makes me feel at ease, returns to his face.

  “What’re you doing, little thief?”

  I lift a shoulder. “I don’t know.” And it’s the truth. I really don’t know. All I know is that I want to stop that pain I can feel tearing through him.

  “You sure about that?” he questions with an arch of his brow.

  I nod, tracing his jawline.

  He tenses, but strangely, the pain in his body subsides.

  “I just don’t like that you’re in pain,” I admit when he stares at me with question marks filling his eyes.

  “Hmm …” He rubs his lips together. “Sounds like you might care about me.”

  “A teeny, tiny bit,” I stress.

  His pain has dwindled a bit, so I’ve done what I wanted to do.

  I move to lower my hand from his face, but he captures my fingers and holds my hand in his. Then he lifts my hands to his lips and places a gentle kiss on my fingertips.

  “That faerie you met—Penelope—I haven’t seen since I escaped her,” he admits quietly. “And seeing her … it just made me a bit unsettled.”

  He’s sugarcoating the truth. He’s more than a bit unsettled. I know that since I can feel the pain and anxiety lashing through him.

  “How long ago was that?” I ask.

  “Decades ago,” he says with a quiet sigh. “I thought I’d be past it by now, but apparently, she still has a little bit of a hold on me. Luckily, Asher pissed her off enough that she touched him and broke the agreement of this party.”

  So, that’s why it felt like Asher was taunting her.

  “And, how long were you …? How long was she your master?” I don’t know if I’m crossing a line or not by asking him this.

  I just … I just want to know where the pain in him and me are stemming from.

  “For longer than decades,” is all he says then looks away from me and stares at the stage.