Page 91 of Friends With the Monsters
I tug my head back. “I was kind of hoping you had a round two in you.” I look down, noting that he’s still thick and hard. “Looks like I was right.” I step up close to Grim. He’s throwing off almost as much heat as the shower and, with the door closed to the bedroom, it’s like a sauna in here now.
Grim’s eyes dart around as his hands land on my hips, drawing me closer. “The Nemean is still in our bed, I’ll be right back.”
“Wait,” I chuckle, “we don’t need the bed, and what were you planning on doing with Calix? He’s probably still sleeping.”
“I would have dropped him somewhere else,” he tells me pragmatically.
I pat Grim’s chest. “You can’t just go dropping people in unexpected places when you feel like it.”
“Why not? I would have collected him when we were done. He’s in our bed,” he adds, like I’m the one not seeing reason.
I smirk and drag my finger over Grim’s lips, shushing him. “We don’t need the bed, Grim,” I insist, then lean up on my toes and seal my lips over his.
Chapter 28
Gunnar is in the kitchen, slamming around plates and containers of food. “What did that chicken do to you?” I snark, knowing his attitude has nothing to do with the chicken. He narrows his eyes on me, and I glower right back at him.
Gunnar slams his hands onto the countertop and leans forward slightly. “You said share,” he barks.
“I did,” I agree.
“You’re not sharing!” he shouts.
“If you mean allowing you to sleep with other people, that’s your choice.” I try for indifference and shrug my shoulders, when on the inside I really want to claw his eyes out for even suggesting it. Some part of me, no matter how deeply hidden that part of me is, understands that what I’m asking isn’t right or fair, but a bigger part of me knows they’re mine. All of them are mine, and should be treated as such. I’m a fickle bitch—what can I say?
I cut my eyes to Gunnar to see what he’s thinking. His chest is puffed out, his lips are screwed closed.
I try to hold my tongue, but I’m vibrating with anger on the inside. “You’d better hope I never find out though, Kitten.” I lick my teeth. “‘Cause if I ever so much as see you with someone else, I will kill you, cut your dick off, and mount it to my fucking mantel,” I snarl.
Gunnar’s face smooths out almost immediately at my threat, but it doesn’t last long. Within seconds, he’s back to scowling at me. “You. Said. Share.” He pauses between each word.
“We just went over this.” I enunciate each word slowly.
“I’m talking about sharing yourself.” Gunnar pushes even closer to me. Only the counter is separating our lower bodies. “You’ve been with Death twice.” Gunnar holds up two fingers as if it’s some kind of evidence.
“What?” I scoff and snort at the same time.
“You heard me.” Gunnar glares at me.
“Are we counting, seriously?”
“I’ve made her come five times.” Grim pulls out the stool next to me, completely calm, as if he didn’t just walk onto a landmine. Gunnar’s nostrils flare, and his shoulders bunch up again. “We’re good at sharing,” Grim adds.
I roll my lips in and my eyes bug out. He did not just say that. “How often did you hang out with…” I circle my hand, encompassing me and Gunnar. “People, friends?” I scrunch up my face, not sure I chose the right words.
“I visited you all the time.” Grim turns to face me and takes a bite out of a huge red apple. I blink at him.
“Okay, anyone else?” I urge him.
“Well…” Grim squints and looks off into the distance. “There’s Samson, and all the others you call monsters.” He takes another bite.
“They are not your friends: they’re terrified of you—there’s a big difference,” Gunnar pipes up, just this side of belligerent.
Grim shrugs. “And?”
I plop my elbows on the table and circle my fingers over my temples. A little of the aggression Gunnar always seems to bring out in me evaporates. “I got you, Gunnar, and I’m sorry. I should balance things better. I’ll try.” I look up from the counter to find Gunnar watching me.
After a few short seconds, one side of his lips tips up in a tiny smile. “You said you’d kill me.”
