Page 25 of Darling Venom
A peace offering?
I tucked it under my armpit and shoved my hand into my pocket, flicking something of my own at him from across the roof. He caught it.
“A penny for your thoughts.”
“Fuck your money.”
He stalked toward me.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Feral.
My right leg jerked nervously. I popped an eyebrow, resisting the urge to step back.
Another step.
Then another.
He was freaking me out.
I refused to appear freaked out.
I tipped my chin up, feigning defiance. He strode closer. I could smell him, feel him, taste the leather and cigarettes and beer on my tongue.
Chills skated up my spine. My blood bubbled and my body buzzed.
“Cut it out,” I huffed. “What’re you doing?”
He didn’t stop when he reached me. In one swift movement, he scooped me into his arms.
I let out a gasp, wrapping mine around his neck, clinging to him for dear life. We were on a steep roof, and Kellan was not the most muscular guy in the world. But he made me feel surprisingly light.
He looked down at me.
Every time I stared into his eyes, it felt like meeting him for the first time. I always found something new in them.
Today, I found promise.
My heart was pounding so hard, it must have been the only time I’d felt alive since The Night Of.
“This is not the beginning of something,” Kellan warned. “If anything, it’s the end.”
She tasted like sweet venom.
Warm and cottony and dreamlike.
Deadly toxic.
Gorgeously addictive.
I kissed her hungrily, my tongue thrusting into her mouth, erasing Mark.
I wanted to do bad things to her, and it frightened me.
These thoughts had started last year, after Mark MacGowan. My desire for Charlotte had laced with something else.
