Demon from the Dark (Immortals After Dark #10)(39)

Carrow felt like she was plucking a thorn from a lion’s paw.

Though she had to be hurting him as she attempted to work a comb through his gritty tangles, the demon never winced, never made a sound. In fact, he was growing aroused.

His eyes kept returning to her breasts, and he was getting that heavy-lidded look that said he was imagining right then what he’d like to be doing with them. Apparently, the demon was a breast man.

“Eyes forward, demon,” she said.

A halfhearted growl in response.

Conceding defeat against the knots, she began to cut some of the worst ones away. Then she shortened his hair in the back to just above where his collar would be—if he wore one.

But when she sheared around his horns, he clenched the rock beneath him. Carrow knew how sensitive a demon’s horns were, and this one’s were growing, lengthening. His neck went red, and he’d begun to sweat.

When she accidentally brushed one of the hard appendages, the rock beneath his hands crumbled. She glanced at the destruction—and his erection—nervously. “Malkom?”

He gave a nod. ’Sokay.

She cautiously began again. Once she finished trimming around his face, she drew back for a better look. “Big improvement.” Yes, his face was still filthy, streaked with camo paint, and covered with stubble, but she could see the basics for attractiveness were there.

Her curiosity was killing her. How far would he let her go? “Now for the rest of you.” She ripped one of the T-shirts into four cloths, then lathered soap on one. “This is soap. Your new best friend.”

When she ran the sudsy material over his forehead, he closed his eyes, as if savoring even this small contact. She scrubbed the thick layer of dust, revealing tan, smooth skin. Who would’ve thought it? His brows were light brown with a golden cast.

So help her, if Pig-Pen was a blond . . .

She washed his upper cheeks and his slightly crooked nose, then lathered the rest of his face. She’d never shaved another before—other than for eyebrow pranks—but she figured she couldn’t make him look worse than he already did.

So she nervously pulled the razor down his lean cheek. By the fifth drag of the razor, she muttered, “I am a regular ’enry ’iggins.” Everything revealed under the disappearing paint and stubble . . . was gorgeous.

Once she’d finished and wiped down his face, her lips parted. My gods, he’s turned up hot.

The demon had high, broad cheekbones, with shadowed indentations under them. His lips were firm, the bottom one fuller. His jawline was strong, overtly masculine, and his stubborn chin had a cleft in the center. She’d known his bone structure was good, but damn. Even his bruiser nose had a rakish cast when taken with his face as a whole.

“Demon?” He wouldn’t look at her, and she thought he was holding his breath.

He wanted her to find him attractive, was anxious about it. Which made him seem so normal, vulnerable even, which in turn made her soften toward him.

Before she could think better of it, she cupped his cheek. With undisguised admiration, she murmured, “I don’t know what muster is, but you pass it like crazy, big guy.”

Now he glanced up. They gazed at each other for long moments. Was she so superficial that his ultimate reveal made him that much more sympathetic to her?

Well, it didn’t hurt.

Yet she was also intrigued by his calmness and his cooperation, the steady clarity of his blue eyes. No longer were they black with bloodlust or rage. This demon was trusting her, and she responded to that.

Just then, a trickle of soapy water ran into his eye. His gaze still locked on her face, he didn’t even blink.

“Oh, demon! Here.” She pressed a dry cloth to it. “Sorry about that.”

She almost didn’t notice him reaching a shaking hand toward her breasts until too late, but she swiftly backed away. “Ah-ah, we’re only halfway done.”

Carrow knew she played a dangerous game. Tonight, she intended to release a little of his steam—to show him what he was getting out of their deal. She was ready to pay the piper but had only budgeted so much from her pocketbook. Could he restrain himself?

If not, she believed she had enough power to do a shocker spell on him. She hoped.

In any event, he needed to be clean. Since she’d be rooming with him, she’d tidy him up, just as she had his lair. She was determined to wash every inch of his big body, humming “at the car wash” while soaping him up from tires to grille.

With that plan in mind, she unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to her ankles. Wearing only her halter, bra, and thong, she stepped into the now knee-deep water.

Once she faced him again, he looked dumbstruck, running his hand over his mouth.

When she beckoned to him with a grin, he glanced over both shoulders. Then he hiked a thumb at himself with his cleft chin proudly raised.

And Carrow thought, I think I just fell into like with him.





16




Malkom was dazed at the sight of the pert, flawless backside she’d just casually revealed to him.

A reward for his patience? Earlier as she’d unplaited his hair, she’d been in high spirits about the prospect of shaving and shearing him. While he couldn’t have been more ill at ease.

After all this time, having anyone near him had been strange, much less this female who so effortlessly undermined his control, with her breasts swaying directly before his eyes.