Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae #1)(11)

Charity opened her mouth to argue. Closed it. Donnie was on the move! He threw a shrug at the incredible beauty and then exited through the sliding glass door.

Immediately, Charity’s brain buzzed with three excuses to leave Sam and follow him. Granted, a sprained ankle didn’t make much sense, but that was the beauty of being the token poor girl—Sam assumed all poor people were crazy.

She opened her mouth to excuse herself when she heard, “Hello.”

A man whose approach she’d neither seen nor heard stood mere inches from her side. She flinched, startled. Liquid sloshed out of her goblet and over her wrist. Drops plunked onto the floor as her eyes rounded and her jaw went slack.

The man was, quite possibly, the most handsome guy she’d ever seen in her life. Literally, her entire life. High cheekbones and a straight nose adorned a gut-clenchingly beautiful face with noble features straight out of a storybook. Shapely lips pulled up into a heart-throbbing smile below velvety brown, sparkling eyes that surveyed her in rapture. It was as though she were the only thing that existed on this plane, and nothing would tear his attention away. Charisma oozed from him in heady waves, deliciously sexy and sinfully suggestive. Her body tightened up and a burst of sweat drenched her armpits.

Clearly she was not as sexy as this man. Why was he talking to her?

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of your acquaintance,” he said in a musical though somehow still unbelievably sultry voice.

Her lady parts burst into flame. His proximity seared her body, begging her to step closer. To touch him. To let him touch her, intimately. A desperate need to be alone with this man overwhelmed her. She wanted his body pressed up against hers, skin on skin. Him inside her, thrusting.





Chapter Six





“I… I…” she heard herself say, a world away.

“I… I…” she tried again, somehow not able to form any sort of coherent thought.

“Maybe you would like some more punch? I see you have spilled yours. Such a travesty. Here, let me assist you, if I may…” His voice set her heart to hammering. Warning tingles spread across her skin, like fire ants biting down. The contrast didn’t make sense. The way he’d singled her out didn’t make sense.

She fell into his entrancing stare as the crystal goblet disappeared from her hand. Her arm dropped, suddenly bereft of strength, to hang limp at her side. His sweltering gaze left hers as he walked toward the island and punch bowl, unnaturally slow.

“Maybe just one,” she murmured, fighting the impulse to hurry after him. She didn’t want to let him get too far away. She needed to be with him in a way she’d never needed anything in her life.

She watched in ravenous fascination as his muscular arm, sleek and delicious, spooned some punch into her glass. He turned toward her, a smile flirting with his mouth-watering lips, so extremely kissable and inviting.

Suddenly he was right next to her, as though time had skipped a beat. As though he’d teleported.

She shook her groggy head, dizzied with lust. “How did…?” Her words drifted away as the goblet was gently placed into her hand. Such a gentleman, this man. Such a handsome, suave gentlemen.

They don’t make them like this anymore.

Numb fingers wrapped around the chilled crystal. A stranger’s fingers. Rough and clumsy compared with that delicate touch wrapped around her wrist, sending waves of sensation through her body.

“Drink—it is delicious,” he said.

“What’s in it?” she asked, looking down at the liquid, suddenly parched.

His laugh melted her panties. “Why, unicorn blood, of course.”

She chuckled at his joke, contemplating alcohol for the first time in her life. Really contemplating it. What harm would one drink do? He’d gone to the trouble of getting it for her, after all.

The itch across her skin grew stronger, turning violent. A strange, musky smell tickled her nose, somehow detracting from the beauty of the man. Pricks of pain spread out from where his hand touched her skin—a sharp contrast to the raging lust. A warning pulsed in her brain, combating the searing heat of his proximity.

“Drink,” he whispered, his breath rustling her hair.

She groaned, needing his touch. The pain intensified, begging her to step away. Her hand rose to her mouth, in someone else’s control.

“But I don’t…” The goblet brushed her lips. Her gaze dipped down, to the pink liquid inching up the crystal interior. Memories of Walt, the man she refused to call her father, flashed through her mind. Fear somersaulted her stomach.

She took a step back and forced the goblet away.

She didn’t drink. That wasn’t about to change because of a pretty creep with a penchant for peer-pressuring strangers.

“Where are you going?” he asked. “I wish to get more closely acquainted. I am in rapture. You are exquisite.”

She ripped her gaze away from his mouth. A blast of cold air assaulted her, hitting the sheen of sweat coating her body and flash-freezing her. Logic rushed in and stole her breath. It was as if she’d awoken from a weird haze. She couldn’t remember the stolen minutes properly, but she did know one thing: she’d wanted to have sex with a complete stranger. Really nasty sex. The kind you didn’t tell people about.

Acting on the siren blaring at the back of her head, she about-faced without a word and haphazardly stalked across the room and out through the sliding glass door. She’d always been a little antisocial, but…well, that guy was weird. Her reaction to him was weird.