Some Velvet Sin, page 23
I looked up at Grim, wanting to throttle him. He nudged Moon down the steps before Killgrave could ascend, his shrug blithely asking What did you want me to do?
“Farewell!” he called, waving at me theatrically as he and Moon tumbled up the path, back toward the city. “Parting is such sweet sorrow, et cetera, et cetera.”
And then the two of them were gone, leaving me alone with the boy who claimed to know me. He climbed the steps slowly, the wood cracking under his weight, and held the bottle out.
It was about time someone made me a decent offer. Without meeting his eyes, I took it and turned it over in my hands to examine the facets of crystal. Each angular edge captured the teal light in fractured patterns, but I didn’t care about the intricate beauty of it. I only wanted to make Killgrave wait. As if anything I could ever do would unsettle him as much as he unsettled me.
Finally I lifted my eyes to his and gestured for him to sit. He did, lowering himself gracefully beside me, his knee lightly bumping mine. The one I’d cut. I didn’t bother to move away.
“Here.” I pulled the stopper from the bottle and offered it to him first.
Killgrave took it, his eyes never leaving mine. “About before,” he said, setting the bottle aside without drinking from it. “I didn’t mean to spring that on you. Like I said, I’m patient, but I’m angry too. Anger makes you do crazy things.”
“Don’t worry about it. I know all about anger.”
“Being angry doesn’t mean I want to hurt you, doll, in case you weren’t clear on that. I don’t.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
“I heard there was some trouble at Strangeblood’s cave and that you were involved.”
“Maybe he shouldn’t sic his goons on people out of nowhere. I was just defending myself.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Hm.”
“That’s it? You’ve got nothing else to say about it?”
“What’s there to say? I believe you, Sin.”
“Are you gonna do anything about that kid, huh? You’re the prince. What are you good for if you can’t keep people in line?”
Considering this, Killgrave reached for the bottle and took a swig. “I didn’t really think about what I’d do once I got this position. I just wanted to stop Storm from terrorizing everyone. I guess I don’t want innocent people getting hurt. Bullies have always bugged me. So yeah, doll. I could have words with the kid.”
My lips curved into a devious, satisfied smile as I took the bottle from him. “A guy after my own heart.”
“That’s all I really want.”
That dumb heart of mine gave a solid thump. I drank some of the smooth liquid and edged closer to him.
“You say these idiotic things,” I whispered, drawing a finger over his knee, “and I can’t believe what I’m hearing. We don’t know each other, KG, no matter what you say. That’s because I don’t let anyone close to me. I’ve heard the same about you. So how could everything you said earlier possibly be true?”
Instead of replying, he cupped my face in one hand and drew me in for a kiss. My lips fell open beneath his, responding to his movements, his urging. I didn’t have to think now, I only had to feel. Everything inside me wanted to be near him. I ached with it, as if only he could give me what I needed. His hot eyes told me he felt the same—only I could satisfy his hunger.
I pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. He let out a pleased moan as our tongues slid together, his forceful hands climbing up my hips, my waist, and higher, pushing the jacket from my shoulders.
“Sin,” he whispered.
As the heavy leather slapped down on the wood, I undid the button on his jeans and pulled down the zipper. When I started to reach inside, he put a hand on my wrist to stop me. The whole world screeched to a halt. My lips left his as I pulled back and looked down at him, confused.
“What gives?” I demanded peevishly. “It’s a little obvious you want it.”
Though I cringed inwardly at my harsh words—they sounded an awful lot like something a pushy guy might’ve said to me in life—I didn’t mean them. It wasn’t like I intended to force him into anything. This felt like rejection was all, and it hurt. I rolled my eyes and let out a brisk breath, annoyed at myself, although he didn’t seem offended.
“Oh, I want it,” he said, his voice rough, “but it ain’t gonna happen when you don’t know who I am.”
“You’re Killgrave,” I said instantly. “KG.” I faltered as he continued to watch me steadily. “You’re…”
“Say it, doll. Say my name from before.”
“I…”
“You know me. Just like I know you.”
“No—”
He rolled over suddenly, pinning me beneath him. His lips descended on mine, this kiss harsh and demanding. It ended too quickly, leaving me breathless and clutching at him for more. I opened my eyes to find his dark gaze wild with longing and frustration.
“Say it, Sin.”
My name, so soft in his mouth. My body, aching beneath his comfortable weight.
His name on the tip of my tongue. His true name, the one from before. The one I couldn’t remember.
The image of that kissing couple returned to me suddenly. They were so locked up in one another I couldn’t see their faces. It seemed important to see their faces.
“I don’t know,” I spat helplessly. “I don’t know!”
Killgrave lowered his head and let out a slow breath. “All right. That’s the way it is. I’m just gonna have to keep waiting.” His head lifted, those dark, straight lashes casting shadows over his cheeks. “I’ll be patient, Sin. We’ve got eternity. Not like we’re going anywhere.”
“You sound like an idiot,” I told him. I lifted my fingers to the wounded side of his face. Blood welled on my fingertip; those bits of gravel were sharp enough to cut.
“Yeah, so I’ve heard.” He grinned and leaned into my touch, heedless of the drop of blood rolling down my palm, smearing across his chin.
Our lips started drifting closer, like we couldn’t help it. Like we were drawn to each other, compelled.
A thunderous shout boomed from the direction of the arena, interrupting that quiet moment where we ached to surrender to our bodies’ silent demands. “CHALLENGER!!!” We locked eyes, knowing what it meant. Vad was making his move to take the throne, just like Poisonelle had said.
“Shit.” Killgrave rolled off me and jumped to his feet. He held out a hand to pull me up, a surprisingly polite gesture after what we’d just been doing. His focus shifted inward as he did up his fly.
“Don’t go,” I said, reaching for my jacket. I threw it over one shoulder, suddenly worried for him in a way I couldn’t explain. He’d done just fine before, but this time I had a bad feeling. Vad was bad news.
“I have to take care of this,” he said simply, and my heart dropped. He moved down the steps and turned at the bottom, like he wanted to get one last look at me.
“I want you to stay.”
“I won’t be long, doll,” he said with a rueful grin.
“But Vad—”
“I’ve been watching him. He needs to go, just like Storm did.” He paused for several seconds. “Everything will be all right. I know that because all this is for you. Every single thing I’ve done since I got here—it’s all been for you.”
I couldn’t say anything else, because his words left me with an odd sensation—a lump in my throat, a hollow space in my belly. I wanted him here, not dueling some unhinged guy to the bloodthirsty shouts of a crowd. But I knew he had to go. That was the way the Realm worked, and to be honest, I wasn’t going to miss Vad one bit.
Flashing me a daredevil grin, Killgrave turned to stroll up the path like he hadn’t a care in the world, summoned by the voices of the dead chanting his name.
TWENTY-EIGHT
1958
The warm afternoons were lasting longer, making it harder and harder for Victor to tear himself away from Cyn after school to go to the garage. Today he’d thought to stop by the candy store before taking her home, just to delay the inevitable by a few minutes, only they’d never made it inside. Something about how she’d looked up at him when they stood on the sidewalk made him turn to her and back her up against the Merc. He couldn’t resist that hint of a smile on her lips or the hesitation always haunting her eyes.
So he’d kissed her, not caring that they stood on a public street where anyone could see. Cynthia had her arms around his waist, beneath his jacket, the light press of her hands commanding his attention more fully than any of the scandalized ladies who’d gossip about this later or giggling children who were probably stealing glances at them.
What was supposed to be a quick, affectionate peck had lengthened into an unhurried kiss with plenty of tongue, the kind where everything else faded into the distance and the two of them got blissfully lost in each other, one second blending into the next until time meant nothing at all.
Often, in the dark of night with no one else around, they weren’t patient enough to take it slow. They’d go at each other like wild things in the back seat of his car, giving and taking like tomorrow would never come, like the world would collapse if they didn’t satisfy their hunger. And it was that, a hunger, which they could never fully satisfy. It wasn’t just for sex or the pleasure they got from it that brought them together again and again, but the need to make each other feel good. To have each other.
This kiss lacked that insatiable energy, but the air between them sizzled with the same heat. It left them breathless, filled with the same eagerness to touch and taste and seek more, always more. A kiss like this was sweeter, lasting, both of them content even if the moment never ended, even though she had to get home and he had work waiting for him. This thing they had was greater than anything either of them had had before. New territory for them both. It was different. It was all they wanted.
A few girls from school had gathered across the street, sneaking looks at them and whispering behind their hands. Victor sighed through his nose as he pressed against Cyn, his tongue still stroking hers while she pushed back softly and sweetly. That hunger was a demanding thing, all right. He’d pressed so close she had to let go of his waist to prop herself up from behind. He ended the kiss slowly, reluctantly, and let his forehead rest against hers, his soft laughter fluttering against her lips.
“Damn, Cyn,” he said, smiling as he smoothed the wrinkles he’d made in her skirt. He took his hands from her hips and put them on the car to hold his weight. “I’ve got half a mind to skip work today. I’m not sure I can leave you like this.”
“I’ve gotta get home,” she said glumly.
“Yeah, I know.”
He didn’t move though, closing his eyes to savor the sensation of her fingers drifting over his abdomen, toying with the fabric of his white shirt. She smelled of cheap soap and hairspray. His hands itched to touch her again, so he squeezed her waist gently, his thumbs stroking beneath her ribs.
“Well, I never,” an elderly woman muttered in a low, disapproving voice as she passed on the sidewalk behind him.
“And you probably never will,” Cyn shot back, just loud enough for the woman to hear.
The woman huffed indignantly. She scooted away a few steps. “Sinful,” she hissed.
“Aw, go to church,” Victor called lazily as she pinched her lips and hurried on her way. He and Cynthia burst into laughter.
Bending his head, he nuzzled the warm skin behind her ear. It might’ve been sinful, the things they did together, but some sins were just too fun to resist. Some of them were like velvet, seductively soft and beautiful, and a guy could happily sink right into them. Sinful indeed, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way. Lightning kisses, velvet touches—a combination guaranteed to bring him to his knees.
“I’m working late tonight,” he said. “Tomorrow?”
“I don’t think so. We’ve been spending a lot of time together. My ma might need me, so I should stay with her. She hasn’t been out in days.”
“Sunday?”
Cyn hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“All right. I’ll see you Monday. But it’ll be tough, going the whole weekend without you.”
A long whistle and a suggestive yowl sounded behind them. Vic looked over his shoulder, seeing Jack and a couple of his buddies amble up the sidewalk. Jack let a smarmy grin slide across his face.
“My turn?” he said, dissolving into cruel, high-pitched laughter as Victor’s anger ignited and he started toward the group. Cyn grabbed his jacket and pulled him back, seeming to hide her face in his chest.
“Keep walkin’,” Victor snarled.
“I think it’s time to go,” Cyn said as the guys walked on, still snickering.
Victor focused his attention on her once more and nodded. “Guess I’d better get to the garage. Gil’s easygoing, but I don’t want to disappoint him too often.”
“Don’t be late because of me. I’ll walk home. I managed just fine before you came along.”
Reaching around her, he pulled on the door handle and motioned her into the seat. He just shook his head and flashed a little grin. “But I’m here now, doll, so get used to it. Wait right there. We never did make it into the shop.”
Her brows shot down, a straight line over her stormy eyes. “Vic, I don’t need any—”
But he was already backing away, still wearing that grin as he looked at her. He was going to be so late, but Gil’s disappointment and her moodiness were worth it if he could make her smile with a few pieces of saltwater taffy.
In the shop, he stood at the counter and asked for a handful. The confectioner eyed him warily—Victor definitely looked out of place among the white paneling, red trim, and brightly colored candies in glass jars—and put the taffy in a little bag.
“Thanks.” Victor slapped some coins on the counter.
When he turned to leave, he came up short. Scarlet stood near the door, looking at some licorice. Her pale face appeared a little less full than usual, as if she hadn’t been eating, and he detected the faintest hint of gray beneath her eyes, the color poorly concealed with makeup.
“Hi, Victor.” She blinked long lashes at him, a smile curving her naturally red lips. If she was sick, she certainly wasn’t letting that get in the way of flirting with him. He gave a polite nod as he stepped past her. “I—”
“See you later, Scarlet.”
“Wait, Victor. I have something to tell you—”
“Whatever it is, I ain’t interested.”
The bell rang as he flung the door open and crossed the sidewalk to the car. Cyn was waiting, impatience clear on her face. Her stormy eyes followed him as he walked around the hood and opened the door. Swinging himself behind the wheel, he leaned over and pecked her cheek, satisfied when her face softened a little.
“Here you go, doll,” he said, handing her the bag. He really did need to get moving if he ever hoped to work on an engine again.
“Thanks,” she said, just a hair short of snapping at him. He wasn’t sure why she felt upset, but he paid no mind when she tossed the bag into the back seat. Cyn was just that way sometimes. “That girl is watching you.”
Victor glanced at the candy shop as he pulled away from the curb, not surprised to see Scarlet staring at him from behind the window. She had the same look on her face as she’d had that day on the bleachers: dissatisfied and dark with purpose.
Jesus, she made him uneasy.
“I’ve seen that girl at school.”
“She’s nobody,” he told Cyn.
“Well, she seems pretty interested.” She glared sideways at him. “I don’t care, in case you were wondering. You’re a handsome guy, so I’m sure lots of girls are interested in you.”
“Oh, you don’t care? You sure know how to hit a guy right where it hurts, Cyn. I’ll forgive you though, since you think I’m handsome.” He shot a grin in her direction. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter, since I’m only interested in one of those girls.”
“Who says I’m interested?” she quipped. Despite her words, she let him take her hand and lift it to his smiling mouth as the wind teased through her hair. He took his eyes off the road for just a second to check her expression, since he was pretty sure she was smiling too.
She wasn’t. But then, Cyn didn’t smile a whole lot. Victor did what he always did when she seemed down: just held on to her hand and offered a strong presence, if she needed one. No matter what, he was always going to be there for her.
~
Later, getting back home from the garage, Victor noticed a shadowed figure sitting on the steps outside the front door. He paused at the end of the path to finish his Lucky Strike. His ma was working, and she’d forgotten to leave the light on before she left. It wasn’t until the person rose to his feet to greet him that Victor recognized Albie.
“What the hell are you doin’ here?” he asked wearily, tossing the stub away—he’d have to pick it up some other time, when his ma nagged him about the state of the yard. Gil had worked him hard that afternoon to make up for the half hour he’d lost getting Cyn home. Victor hadn’t told him the reason he was late, letting the man assume what he would. He was tired now, ready to hit the sack.
Albie met him halfway down the weedy path, head lowered, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans. He looked contrite, but Victor wasn’t about to start off offering forgiveness. He crossed his arms and tilted his head, knowing his face was like stone—an intimidating look he’d often used to his advantage before fights.
Although he was pretty sure Albie wasn’t here to fight, he kept his expression fixed in place and waited.
Finally, Albie spoke. “Listen, I didn’t mean for things to happen like this.”
Victor shrugged, his arms still crossed. “Ain’t that a bite.”
“I was jealous, all right?” Albie admitted. He glanced off to the side, moonlight edging his agitated features and catching on the lenses of the shades hooked over his shirt collar. “You can get any girl you want, Vic, and you’ve got them lining up for turns. I saw this one I wanted, and what happened? You got her instead. Maybe I was outta line, but for once I would’ve liked not to get your leftovers.”
