Page 92 of Legion
With the women in his past,hehad always been the one with the secrets.It had eventually gotten to a point where said women had wanted him to open up.He’d never understood why it bothered them so much that he hadn’t shared every little detail of his life with them.Now, he got it.Because now, he was invested in something; in someone.
“I can see that you’re tempted to pressure me to tell you more, but you swore that you wouldn’t,” she reminded him.“You also once promised my demon that you wouldn’t push if you hit on something I couldn’t or didn’t want to share.”
Yes, and he was regretting it.
“But hey, if you really want us to start sharing more personal stuff with each other, I guess we could.I am ever so curious about the inner workings of the criminal empire you so successfully run.”She lifted a daring brow, knowing full well that he wouldn’t elaborate.It made Belial want to bite her.
“You know how to shut down a line of questioning, don’t you?”Imps were experts at it, and his siren had evidently picked up their tricks.
She only smiled.
His attention shifting to those full and oh so bitable lips, he said, “Come here.”
Her brow pinched.“Why?”
“Because I want that mouth.”
“Then come get it.”
“Are you sure you want me to do that, Naomi?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“It might end with you getting bent over this table while Belial fucks you from behind, and then youwillget a hot ass.”
Naomi’s lady bits predictably perked all the way up.“I’ll take my chances.”
That turned out to be a mistake on her part.Because shedidget hammered by the entity, and itdidspank the hell out of her.Although ...she supposed she couldn’t really call it a ‘mistake’ since she’d admittedly enjoyed it despite herself.
More, Belial left another brand on her.A brand of its handprint, right on her butt.And when she ranted at it, it only gave her a sadistic smile.
She felt her lips thin.“Sometimes, I could swear you’re trying to provoke my demon into branding you right back.”
The entity shrugged.“Only one way to find out.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Naomi dropped her gaze from the framed painting to the cards beneath it.UnderPlease don’t touchwas the name of the artist and also the price of the artwork.At the latter, she almost whistled.Hefty.
But then most of the pieces here at this particular gallery were.
Located in the Underground, it was quite an impressive place, all high ceilings and shiny flooring.The plain white walls and clever lighting helped emphasize the works displayed all around.
Still feeling bloated from her lunch with Tobe, she put a hand to her belly and blew out a breath.She usually spent her Sundays in her workroom, but he’d asked that they meet up at one of the ethnic restaurants here in the Underground, whining that they didn’t see as much of each other now that Luka was in the picture.
Notstrictlytrue.It was more that Tobe was finding it hard to adjust to her having another man in her life.Which wasn’t unusual for anchors, so she made a point of making time for him.
He had requested that they stop off at the gallery on their way out so that he could speak to one of his contacts here.Yes, even upscale galleries with very elite clientele were willing to do business with imps if it meant better profits.Some even obtained work via Tobe on behalf of their clients.
Naomi didn’t mind waiting.She’d always liked wandering around such places, and the ambience here was pretty relaxing.
People talked low as they meandered around or chatted with curators, so the echoes were mostly inaudible.The smells of sage, plaster, paint, and wood polish circulated through the air—some stronger in some sections than others.
There were plenty of pieces to admire – paintings, carvings, blown glasswork, and mass-media sculptures.The various sections appeared to be organized according to themes.Depending on the nature of the piece, some hung on walls while others were propped on tables.
A couple of paintings were actually hers.Of course, none were under her name—her clients had taken the credit.But it still gave her a burst of pride to see them displayed here.
Her mother constantly pestered her to stop hiding her light, to take the plunge and work to become an established artist.But truly, Naomi preferred it this way.It wasn’t about hiding; it was just that the limelight wasn’t for her.
