Page 42 of Relapse
His eyes lock onto mine instantly.
Cold gray-blue and intense enough to make my pulse stumble hard in my chest.
Jesus Christ.
The man really does stare at people like he’s deciding whether to kiss them or ruin their life.
When it comes to me, it’s usually both.
His hands stay locked on my waist while foam swirls around us.
I grin immediately.
Coy, and mischievous.
Absolutely zero survival instincts remaining.
“Well,” I shout over the music, dragging my hands slowly up his chest, fingertips catching briefly on the chain around his neck. “I figured Dagger probably called you the second he realized I left.”
Noir’s jaw tightens immediately.
“You shouldn’t have fucking left.”
I laugh breathlessly at that, foam swirling around our legs while lights flash violently across his face.
“Oh my god,” I grin. “You two are unbelievable.”
His hands flex harder against my waist.
“You think this is funny?”
“I think,” I say, stepping closer until my chest presses against his, “it’s interesting hearing that from the people who spent months trying to convince me none of this was real.”
That lands exactly how I want it to.
His expression hardens instantly.
“You know why we did that.”
“Yeah,” I shoot back. “Because you wanted me gone.”
“We wanted you safe.”
“Mm.” I tilt my head innocently. “Very touching. Truly. Love the commitment to the psychological warfare.”
“Blair—”
“No seriously,” I cut him off, smiling even while something sharp twists low in my chest. “You’re so pissed off I left Dagger’s apartment this morning.”
His eyes darken immediately at Dagger’s name.
Got him.
“But what?” I tease over the bass, dragging my nails lightly down his chest while foam clings to both of us. “I was supposed to stay there? In his bed while he kept fucking me. Over and over.”
Jealousy flickers across Noir’s face before he buries it again.
Too late though.
