Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

No sooner had Teague pulled up outside Larkin’s building than she came striding out of it, moving with the same purpose and confidence as always. Damn, she looked good. Her everyday outfits tended to be casual, such as tee-and-jeans combos. But she generally took things up a notch for occasions such as dinners or events. Tonight, she was wearing a pretty lavender blouse and black, skintight pants that highlighted the curves of her toned, shapely legs. Oh, and also fuck-me heels.

His demon sent him an image of her wearing those heels and nothing else while he was buried deep in her body.

Feeling his cock stir, Teague figured it was best not to think about that.

He exited Saxon’s truck, skirted the hood, and opened the front passenger door for her.

She gave him a questioning look.

“I’m being, you know, well-mannered and courtly. Guys do that for their girlfriends.” Or so Gideon said.

She sighed, shaking her head.

He didn’t miss how her gaze swept the lot almost . . . suspiciously. Huh. Once she’d hopped into the truck, he let the door swing closed, rounded the hood once more, and then slid back into the driver’s seat.

“For future reference,” she began, jamming on her seatbelt, “you don’t need to open doors for me or stuff like that.”

His skin prickled, because something about her tone was off. It was too smooth, too level, too mellow.

Larkin could be cool and calm. But mellow? No. Her default setting was ‘tetchy as fuck’. Her voice—the perfect blend of honey and smoke—was typically full of thorns and spines and barbs.

“I like doing those things for myself,” she added, her tone again uncharacteristically even. It made his demon’s hackles lift.

Knowing better than to question her about it straight off the bat, he casually clicked on his belt and then started the engine. “But a boyfriend would insist on doing it for you.” Driving forward, he cast her a sideways look. “You have had one, right?”

She shrugged, looking out of the window, the image of laidback. “I’ve had a few. They respected that I don’t want my chair pulled out, my coat held up, my doors opened, and all that jazz.”

“Respected it, or were easy to push around?”

She slid him a brief look but didn’t respond.

“My guess is that it was the latter.” He pulled out onto the main road. “Is ‘spineless’ really your type?” It was more of a taunt than a question. Normally, she’d narrow her eyes and toss a smart remark at him. This time, she only gave him a look of mild exasperation.

Yeah, mild.

Something was wrong. So wrong she’d slipped on an ‘I’m totally at ease and relaxed’ suit to hide it from everyone. Those closest to her weren’t going to buy it, though.

“They weren’t spineless; they were simply easygoing,” she said.

Doubtful. “It doesn’t weaken you or make you any less self-reliant to have others do such things for you, you know.” That earned him no response. “Were you serious about any of the guys you were with? As in, like, you-almost-took-one-as-your-mate serious?” His demon pricked up its ears, interested in her response.

She cast him another quick look. “Why do you want to know?”

He gave a slight shrug. “Just making conversation. We can instead talk about what’s bothering you, if you want.”

Oh, her look wasn’t brief this time. No, she practically pinned him to the seat with her gaze.

“Why would you think that something’s bothering me?” she asked, airy and aloof.

“Because you’re completely relaxed.”

She blinked. “That makes no sense.”

“Sure it does. In general, you’ve got this restless energy about you. Like a bird braced to take flight and pounce at its prey. Right now, you seem way too chilled out. That’s not you. Something is obviously wrong, and you don’t want to broadcast it.” He paused as he made a sharp turn. “Want to tell me about it?”

She faced forward. “No. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Not entirely surprised that she’d brushed him off, he pursed his lips. “Okay.” And then he once more found himself the sole focus of her intent gaze.

“You never push,” she mused.

“Hmm?”

“It’s something I’ve noticed about you. If a person says that they don’t want to talk about something or can’t share it with you, you don’t push for answers. You let it go, and you don’t bristle about it. It’s unusual for someone with an alpha personality.”

He shrugged again. “If someone doesn’t want to share something then they shouldn’t have to.”

“Spoken like a person who has their own secrets.”

“Everyone has secrets.” Before she could press for his, he added, “I bet I can guess what you’re so desperately trying to hide from me.”

She sighed. “This ought to be good.”

“You’re acting overly casual because you don’t want me to sense that you’ve fallen hard for me.” He gave her a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay. I expected it to happen.”

Her lips twitched in amusement. “Expected it?”

“I’m easy to fall for,” he said with a ‘what can you do?’ shrug, pleased when her mouth quirked again. “And I have a big cock—women tend to get attached to it.”

She started to laugh, her shoulders shaking.

“It’s true. They write it love letters and everything.”

“Oh, I’m sure they do.”

“I tell ya, being well-endowed isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Especially when, like me, you’re a grower and a shower.”

“Poor you.”

“I know, right?”

Larkin could only shake her head. The dude might be nuts, but he knew how to pull a girl out of her funk. There was simply no way to not smile or laugh when he was around.

Having Knox and the sentinels as brothers, she’d become accustomed to people pressuring her to talk, shoving themselves into her business, giving her no room to think, and insisting on dealing with her problems for her. Teague was different. The opposite, even.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care. No, if Teague thought that someone needed help, he wouldn’t ignore it. For him to back off so easily when she’d turned down his offer to be an ear for her problem showed that he respected her wish to process her issue alone. More, him not trying to worm his way into her business meant that he trusted she could take care of the matter herself. And Larkin had had no real idea how attractive she’d find that until she found herself in a situation where it was what she so needed.

Not that she would keep Holt’s visit completely to herself. She’d share it with her brothers so that they’d know he was in Vegas. But not tonight. Her demon was too tightly wound—it needed time to calm its tits, or it might surface and go hunting. That would not be good.

Since hopping into the truck with Teague, the sharp, spiky edges to her entity’s foul mood had little by little smoothed out. Everything about him was a distraction for her demon—his strength, his power, his confidence, his devastating good looks, even his strange idea of humor.

On the one hand, it was a good thing that he’d diverted some of her entity’s attention. On the other hand, it wasn’t so great. Because her demon had decided that they should spend the night in his bed, using him to distract themselves further.

The idea was seriously cold. And, if she was honest, somewhat appealing. She wasn’t going to act on it, though. She wouldn’t use him that way. But she could throw herself into their little ‘act’, could use that to distract her.

It would be hard not to think about Holt at all when she couldn’t shift the sinking sensation in her gut. But she was up for the challenge. The cambion didn’t deserve to take up any of her mental space.

Soon, Teague parked outside Jolene’s house and then turned to her. “Now, if you want to fool those people in there into thinking you’re fine, you need to go back to being your usual prickly self.”

She felt her brow crease. “I’m prickly?”

“As a goddamn porcupine. I like porcupines. They’re fun to play catch with, though it hurts like a mother.”

Larkin studied him carefully. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not. You know what, it doesn’t matter. Right now, our act matters. I’ll work on not looking overly casual. You don’t overdo the PDA, it’ll look suspicious.”

“And you don’t want to end up all wet and needy at a dinner table,” he said with a nod of understanding. “I get it.”

She gave him a flat look. “I’m quite sure my hormones can handle it.” Her demon snorted, knowing that was a total lie.

His eyes lit up. “Oh, you’re throwing down a gauntlet? Excellent.”

An arrow of panic zipped through her. “No. I was simply stating a fact.”

“That was a challenge if ever I’ve heard one.”

“No, it wasn’t. Now focus. We have a show to put on. I need you to concentrate on that.”

He saluted her. “I’m focused, I swear.”

Hearing the easy rumble of an engine behind them, she glanced back to see a familiar car. “That’s Keenan and Khloë pulling up.” She slid her gaze back to Teague. “You ready for this? Because both he and Knox are gonna watch us like a hawk.”

“And what they’ll see is how hard you’re falling for me and my cock.”

She crossed her eyes. “I don’t know how to talk to you sometimes.”

“I hear that a lot. Now stay here.” Then he was gone from the truck.

Wait, what? She opened the door and slid out.

Skirting the hood, he shot her a look. “I asked you to wait.”

Conscious of Keenan watching them, she sighed at Teague and responded exactly how she’d have responded if they truly were dating. “Didn’t I tell you that I don’t need you to be all chivalrous?”

He hummed, closing in on her. “You did mention it. Several times. But all I ever hear is ‘Blah, blah, blah, I’m a tough independent badass who doesn’t know how to handle courteousness. Blah’.”

She rolled her eyes, ignoring how her body perked up at having him so close. “I don’t want a Prince Charming. They’re all dull and one-dimensional.” Her demon would likely skin such a person alive for being so boring—it really hated to be bored.

Teague took her hand in his and began pulling her toward the house. “I am many things, but I am never dull.”

No truer statement had ever been spoken.

He smiled at a beaming Khloë. “Hey, gorgeous.”

Jealousy nipped at Larkin, even as she knew that he had nothing but platonic feelings for the imp. Her inner entity drummed its fingers on its thigh, no less irritated.

Keenan glared at him. “Should you be calling another woman ‘gorgeous’ now that you have a girlfriend?”

Khloë frowned at her mate. “Why wouldn’t he? His relationship status doesn’t change that I’m gorgeous. You come out with the weirdest stuff.”

The incubus’s eyes widened. “Pot, kettle, black.” He glanced at the truck and then at Teague. “You didn’t give Larkin a ride on the back of your bike,” he noted, a trace of suspicion in his voice.

Teague shrugged. “She doesn’t like being so close behind me unless she’s wearing a jockstrap.”

Larkin closed her eyes. “This is where you stop talking.”

“I don’t know if I can,” said Teague.

Opening her eyes, Larkin caught Khloë’s subtle, conspiratorial wink just before the imp and her mate strode up Jolene’s gravelly path. Their hands still joined, Larkin and Teague followed, careful not to brush against the Mustang parked in the driveway.

Stepping onto the porch, Khloë pressed the doorbell. Five times. Not out of impatience, but simply because she felt like it.

The door soon opened, and there stood Khloë’s younger sister. Heidi was ten, maybe eleven—Larkin wasn’t sure. The little girl dived at Khloë with a beaming smile, who then hugged her tight while the kid nattered a mile a minute.

The sisters didn’t share much of a resemblance, though they had similar mannerisms and the same petite build. Heidi had the look of an angel—vivid aquamarine eyes, adorable dimples, rosy cheeks, and long ringlets that were a stunning white-blonde. She’d also rob you blind if you didn’t watch those sticky fingers of hers. In that sense, she was an imp through and through, not to mention a manipulative plotter like Jolene.

Finally, Heidi stepped back and waved them all inside, still chatting away to Khloë.

So many smells washed over Larkin as she entered the house. The overpowering and delicious scents of grilled meat and hot spices overlaid the softer smells of lavender, cookies, and coffee.

Shutting the door, she gave Heidi a smile. “Hey, kiddo.”

Teague ruffled the imp’s hair and said, “Well, if it isn’t my favorite thief.”

Heidi giggled. “My favorite thief is Leo. Want to see what he taught me last week?”

“Sure,” he replied.

She crooked a finger at Larkin. “You’re tall, so I’m gonna need you to bend over.”

Sighing, Larkin obliged her. “All right, but I’ll want back whatever you steal.”

Heidi fingered the necklace that dangled from Larkin’s neck. “I can undo the clasp on the chain without you even feeling it.”

Teague folded his arms. “Hmm, prove it.”

The kid tiptoed two of her fingers along the side of Larkin’s neck and around to her nape.

Larkin felt a whisper of a touch on the clasp, but the necklace stayed on. Heidi’s face scrunched up in concentration, and there was another slight ‘flick’ to the clasp. Again, though, the necklace didn’t fall off.

Her shoulders slumping, Heidi scowled and lowered her arm to her side. “I need to practice more.”

Larkin straightened. “I’m sure you’ll get it eventually, and I don’t know how I should feel about that.”

Teague chuckled, unfolding his arms.

Heidi lifted her hand . . . and then smiled. “Oh, would ya look at this.” She was holding one end of a bracelet, letting the piece of jewelry swing gently in the air. Larkin’s bracelet.

Her lips parting, Larkin stared at it. “You made me focus on the necklace so I wouldn’t sense you were stealing my bracelet.”

“Uh-huh.” Heidi returned it to her, and then held up her other hand. “And this, too.”

Larkin took the ring, gaping. “How the hell did you get that off my finger without me feeling it?”

Grinning, the kid swung her arms forwards and backwards. “Pure skill.”

Amusement trickling through him, Teague flashed Heidi a smile. “I bow down to your brilliance.” Leo would be proud.

“Brilliance,” muttered Larkin. “Yeah, that’s one word for it.”

Probably not a word many would use in this instance. Other breeds of demon tended to sit in judgement over imps. Teague personally thought it unfair.

Imps might be as crazy as they were unethical and have no issue committing all manner of crimes from embezzling to identity theft, but they never pretended to be anything else. You knew where you stood with them. You didn’t have to worry that they’d stab you in the back or screw you over—unless, of course, you wronged them.

In that sense, they were honestly dishonest. It was why Teague and his clan got along with them so well. They were on the same wavelength in this respect.

“Now, how about we go see if dinner’s ready?” Larkin proposed.

“I’m up for that.” Heidi wrinkled her little nose. “I should probably give you this back first.” She held out a small, compact mirror.

Her lips once more parting, Larkin took it. “Okay, I don’t know what disturbs me more: that you stole three things pretty much at once without me knowing it; or that it’s like you afterwards produced your ill-gotten goods out of thin air. Seriously, where do you put this stuff when you swipe it?”

Heidi tapped the side of her nose. “An imp never tells.” With that, she skipped away.

Dropping her mirror back in her purse, Larkin looked at him. “Who is this Leo person that taught her that trick?”

Claiming her hand again, Teague slid her a sideways smile as they slowly walked along the hardwood floor of the hallway, following the sounds of laughter and chatter. “Like you don’t already know he’s one of my clan.” She would have discovered that much when she did her homework on Teague.

“Okay, fine, I know their first names and some other basic details. But that was all I could dig up. You guys erased your trails so successfully that even I can’t unearth anything about your pasts.”

Pausing a few feet away from the noisy kitchen, Teague used his grip on her hand to pull her closer, liking how her pupils dilated. “What can I say? We prefer to be men of mystery.”

“Bullshit,” she said, her voice low. “You”—she gently poked his chest—“are just a cagey motherfucker, plain and simple. People don’t notice, because you’re so damn chatty and social. They don’t seem to pick up that you don’t talk about the things that matter, or that you very expertly redirect a conversation if it’s going down a path you don’t like.”

Teague couldn’t quite fight the smile that tugged at his lips. “Full of astute observations, aren’t you, harpy? And it makes me wonder . . . ”

Her brow dented. “What?”

He dipped his head, leaving inches between their mouths. “If you’ve sensed just what filthy things I’ve imagined doing to you.”

She swallowed, heat flickering in her eyes. Then she gave her head a quick shake and poked his chest once more. “Now, see, you’re doing it again. Tossing something into the conversation that will distract and divert.”

He shrugged. “It has a high success rate.”

Just then, Keenan popped his head out of the kitchen, his eyes narrowed. “What are you two whispering about?”

“Whips and floggers,” Teague said, straight-faced.

The incubus opened and closed his mouth a few times. With a sigh, he flapped an arm. “I have nothing.” He retreated into the kitchen.

Teague led Larkin into the space. By the looks of things, dinner wasn’t quite ready. Jolene was still pottering around, much like her two usual helpers. One was her anchor, Beck. The other was her only daughter, Martina.

“Evening all,” Teague greeted, earning himself a nod from Beck and a wave from Martina.

Jolene smiled as she said, “Larkin, Teague. Always a pleasure.” She gave off her usual veneer of elegance with her smart blouse, pencil skirt, and sophisticated hairdo. Beneath that surface lay a shrewd, daring, manipulative woman who would protect and avenge her loved ones at any cost—even if said costs involved leaving behind scenes of utter carnage.

Teague liked the female Prime a lot.

Still smiling, she looked from him to Larkin, noting their joined hands. “I did hear about this new development. I approve.”

Keenan grumbled something unintelligible, making Khloë roll her eyes.

“The food will be ready in ten minutes or so,” said Jolene. “You four might as well go wait in the dining room. Harper and Knox are already seated.”

Larkin gave her a polite smile. “Thank you for finding room for me at the table.”

“There’s always room for you here. And since Richie and Robbie couldn’t make it this evening,” Jolene began, referring to Khloë’s father and brother, “you won’t be uncomfortably squeezed between two people or stuck sitting on Teague’s lap.”

His brows lifted. “Shame. That would have been interesting.”

Larkin snorted. “Only you would think that.” She led the way as the four of them strolled into the dining room. With its earthy colors, soft lighting, and the many wall-mounted framed photos, the space had a very warm vibe. The little knick-knacks and keepsakes that could be found on the windowsill, shelves, and surface of the antique cabinet added to the homey feel.

Jolene kept photos and mementos in almost every room. The batshit badass had a sentimental streak a mile wide, and she made no attempt to hide it; not worried it would be perceived as a weakness.

In the center of the dining room was a long table with lots of chairs and stools of various types, styles, and sizes gathered around it. Only Larkin’s Primes were currently seated.

Harper gave them all a bright smile. “Well, hey.”

Greetings were quickly exchanged as Larkin and the other newcomers made a move to claim a seat. She felt her lips thin when Teague pulled out a chair for her, his eyes dancing. “You’re gonna keep doing this gallant shit, aren’t you?” It wasn’t a question, it was an observation. “Can you not cease trying to annoy me for just a little while?”

Opposite her, Khloë chuckled. “He likes hearing you growl at him. That’s all.”

Larkin took her seat and scooted forward before he could push her chair closer to the table. “I don’t growl.”

“Oh, you do,” said Teague with a smile, claiming the chair beside hers. “It’s a low, sexy sound that me and my demon love.”

Not sure if he was messing with her or not, Larkin waved a hand his way. “Whatever.”

She almost tensed when he hooked his arm over the back of her chair. She couldn’t help it. She was just so aware of him; so conscious of his proximity. It left her feeling strung tight.

She glanced around. “Where’s Asher?”

“Playing in the backyard with Heidi. Ciaran is supervising,” Harper added, referring to Khloë’s twin.

Larkin went to speak again, but then the sphinx raised her hand.

“I just want to say something before we get on with our evening.” Harper took a long breath. “I have an apology to make. I’m sorry about all the matchmaking attempts, Lark. I can understand now why they drove you insane. You were already involved with someone, and you were serious about him. Which I’m glad of, because you two suit so well.”

Khloë grinned. “My thoughts exactly.”

“Yes, because they have so much in common,” Keenan said, his voice bone dry.

Harper cast him a frown. “Opposites attract. Take you and Khloë, for example.”

The incubus only grunted.

It was no easy thing for Larkin to bite back a smile. For him to be so surly meant he wasn’t quite as skeptical about her and Teague as he’d been earlier. She wondered if Khloë had been filling his head with shit in an effort to convince him.

Larkin’s inner smile faltered as Teague danced his fingertips over her nape. The sensitive skin there prickled as little bumps rose. His touch was so light, so gentle, yet she’d swear it seared her just beneath her skin. Like a brand.

Harper leaned forward in her seat. “Now, tell me how you two ended up doing the horizontal rodeo.”

“Oh no,” said Larkin. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

The sphinx let out a put-upon sigh. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

A round of small talk began. And, of course, Larkin’s chatty fake boyfriend was fully engaged in it. All the while, he alternated between doodling light circles on her nape and playing with the thin, curly whisps of hair there that were too short to add to her braid.

They were such simple things, so she had no logical answer for why they fired up her libido. Or for why excitement pounded through her so vehemently that her nerve-endings soon felt raw and tingly. Her demon, equally affected, didn’t care to reason it out. The entity merely wanted more.

It got what it wanted.

He loosely clasped her nape, skating his thumb up and down one side of her neck while fluttering his fingertips along the other side. Easy though his hold was, there was a heavy dose of possessiveness there. One she begrudgingly liked.

Soon, her skin was so hypersensitized it left her feeling jumpy. And horny. Only her awareness that she was being very closely watched by Keenan and Knox stopped her from shying away from Teague’s touch out of self-preservation.

There was one benefit to him persisting in so boldly touching her. Keenan looked like he wanted to explode. Yeah, well, she’d felt the same way when he wouldn’t stop playing cupid with the others.

The small talk came to an abrupt end when, finally, Jolene entered the room with plates of food. In no time at all, everyone was gathered around the table, eating and talking and drinking. And Larkin thankfully got a breather from Teague’s touchy-feely ways.

“How is your clan doing?” Jolene asked him at one point.

Once he’d finished chomping down a mouthful of steak, he replied, “They’re good.”

“I’ll box up some leftovers for you to take home for them. They’re growing boys after all.” Jolene sniffed. “And too skinny.”

A snort popped out of Khloë. “They’re all packed with muscle.”

“They are indeed,” Martina said with a somewhat dreamy smile. Moving her gaze to Teague, she bit her lip. “So, how’s Leo?”

Ciaran frowned at his aunt. “I thought you had a thing for Slade.”

Martina grinned at him. “Sweetie, I have a thing for them all. But there’s just something about the way Leo looks when he’s cracking open a vault . . . My body has no defenses against it.”

Teague’s lips quirked. “He has a thing for you, too, if it helps.”

Martina’s grin widened. “Oh, it helps.” She cut her gaze to Larkin. “I take it you’ve met the boys.”

“Once or twice,” she lied.

Teague looked at her and tucked a stray hair that had escaped her braid behind her ear. “You were a hit with them. I think you were more taken with the dogs than you were my clan.” He lightly skimmed his fingertip along the shell of her ear and down to the lobe.

Larkin almost blinked in surprise. You have dogs? He’d never mentioned them before.

Five, he replied.

Her focus was yanked from the psychic conversation as flames burst around Asher’s plastic cup. The fire quickly died down, showing that the drink had disappeared. A small fire roared to life in the kid’s hand, and then there was his cup.

Larkin smiled. She couldn’t believe that the pyroporting little dude was four years old. The time had flown by.

“Ah, shoot,” muttered Martina, grimacing at one of her red acrylic nails. “The tip snapped.”

“I got you covered,” announced Heidi, producing a designer purse seemingly out of nowhere. A purse that didn’t look like one a kid would own. She unzipped it, fished out a tiny nail file, and then passed it to her aunt.

Martina responded with a bright smile. “Thanks, honey.”

Harper squinted at the young imp. “Where did you get the purse, Heidi-ho?”

She gave an innocent blink. “I found it.”

Stole it, more like.

Asher got to his knees on his chair, wearing his adorable dimply smile. “Daddy, I want to go outside and play.”

Knox flicked a look at the kid’s half-empty plate. “You haven’t finished your dinner.”

With a small burst of fire, every piece of food on Asher’s plate vanished.

Still smiling, the little boy lifted his hands, palms out. “See, all gone.”

Harper’s gaze slid to the ceiling. “I can’t with this kid.”

Giggling, he pressed a sloppy kiss to his mom’s cheek. She responded by blowing raspberries all over his face.

Larkin would have chuckled at the sight, but then Teague rested his hand on her knee beneath the table. Her pulse jumped. The ass apparently meant to step things up, and that was not whatsoever good.