Page 94 of Gravehouse

Now he’s here, shirtless and flat on his back, one arm thrown over his head, sheets tangled at his waist. His chest rises and falls, jaw slack. I take this moment to admire him, all that dark ink, thick muscle, and his stupidly adorable face when he’s not talking.

I take a waffle, set the plate on the dresser, and cross the room. As soon as I’ve hit the side of the bed, I drop it onto his face.

He jerks upright, snatching it away. With bed hair and eyes still lazy from sleep, I need to rein in my hormones before I climb onto his dick instead of threaten to cut it off.

“The fuck...” He looks down at his hand. “Did you just throw a waffle at me?”

“I placed it,” I say, nodding. “Gently. On your face.”

His eyes narrow.

“You’re awake now, so…” I fold my arms. “Camille says you fucked her last night. After I fell asleep.” Okay, she didn’t say those exact words, but she may as well have.

The annoyance in his face breaks into a smug smirk.

He laughs. “Yeah, right. Bitch is lying.”

“That’s your denial?” I stare at him. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” He doesn’t blink. “She’s lying.”

I’ve studied human nature. How people react under pressure, threatened, afraid. I’ve learned to look at what they don’t say, not what they do, and everything in between.

He keeps glaring at me.

“What is it, Venom?” He bites into the waffle, slowly shuffling back against the headboard. “Am I lying? Or is she?” His chewing slows around his grin.

“You’re an asshole.” And a hot one. Unfortunately.

He sucks the grease from his thumb. “Mmm, but you used to love that about me.”

Yeah… until you turned cruel.

He yanks me onto the bed before I can pull back, rolling over me and pinning me into the mattress.

God, he doesn’t fight fair. I know she’s lying. Or at least, his reaction tells me there’ssomelie buried in it.

“Let me go.” A smile breaks over my face and I want to slap it off.

He looks straight into my eyes. “No.”

My laughter dies, and suddenly, my chest is too tight, this room is too small, and I’m beneath the only man walking this earth who can touch the scars I hide in my soul.

He brushes his nose against mine, then kisses me, shifting back a little after dropping two more.

I search his face, wondering if I’d still be a good human lie detector if the lie itself was the only real thing I’ve ever felt.

“Who were you talking to yesterday?” I try again, because this isn’t leaving my head.

“Nobody worth mentioning,” he repeats, kissing me again.

“You said that last night,” I say around his lips. “When I asked in the office.”

“Yeah.” He nips down my jaw, tracing the marks with his tongue. “Because nobody worth mentioning isstillnobody worth mentioning.”

“Asher…” I say, but it comes out breathless and my eyes drift closed.

“Ivy,” he mimics, voice vibrating over my neck.