But he could not, would not, unleash it on Dahlia. If he found out she had deceived him, he might give into the temptation.
“Sure. First you tell me why he’s so important.” She tried to shrug, but it was awkward.
The memory of Bish popped up in his mind, flirting with him to happily increase his irritation. He wasn’t important. Bish had never been important to Tarus or Zhan, but he hadn’t followed his grace, and he also hadn’t fallen.
Was this his first step away from the Keepers?
“Hello,” she said, elongating the last syllable. “You two still there?”
Tarus shook his head once, then slid a look at Zhan, who continued to stare, utterly riveted. The hunger coming off him seemed damn near a tangible force of his own.
The woman whistled, and Tarus yanked his attention back to that luscious face and gorgeous eyes. “Still here, big boy. Did you forget about me already?”
Eyes narrowed, Tarus flexed his hands, fisting and relaxing them. “Do you ever stop talking?”
The corner of her mouth kicked up. “There is no evidence of that, no.”
A snort. A half-strangled chuckle. Tarus swung his head to find Zhan pacing away, his back to him and wings flexing as he chuckled. It was a dry, dusty sound—rusted from ill-use.
“And you know,” she said dryly, as if they were the captives here and not her. “You did ask. Well, technically, you told me to tell you, but that’s kind of like asking because you don’t know the answer. You just want to know the answer. You’re also pushy. Sexy as hell, and that mouth is going to be in my dreams tonight, but still, pushy.”
Zhan pivoted. “His mouth?”
Wait. What was wrong with Tarus’ mouth? He frowned at the shock rippling through Zhan’s tone.
“Why his mouth?” Wings rustling, Zhan stalked back to her.
Head tilted, she swung her gaze from Tarus to Zhan. Tarus didn’t like that. The beast chuffed, straining against the shackles. Shifting forward, he planted himself next to his brother.
“Hmm…because I’d rather dream about your eyes,” she told Zhan pointedly. “His mouth looks very biteable.”
Red flushed her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled. For all that she was tied securely, she seemed to be having a good time.
“Anyway,” she continued blithely, as if Tarus wasn’t suddenly considering all the ways he’d like to tie her. If she enjoyed it so much… He could work with that. “You started it.” She swung her head, and her gaze collided with his like a sledgehammer.
“How did I start it?”
“You wanted me to tell you about Bish.”
Right.
He had.
Pivoting, Tarus gave her his back as he retrieved the bottle from Quetta and twisted it open.
“You haven’t told us about Bish,” Zhan observed, interest creeping into his voice.
“You haven’t told me why you care so much or who he is to you,” she retorted.
“You are the one tied up,” his brother reminded her as Tarus poured himself a drink.
“Am I? Huh.” The actual surprise she intoned pulled another smile to Tarus’ lips, and he quickly downed the whole glass before refilling it. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention—when you strung me up here, you psycho!”
The screech took her voice to an unnatural pitch, and he winced. Stealing a look over his shoulder, he raised his eyebrows because Zhan had retreated once more. Not that Tarus blamed him. They might need to keep her tied up and throw in a ball gag to boot.
Though it would be a damn shame to cover up that mouth.
Determination flooded Zhan’s features as he narrowed the space once more, leaning in, he took a deep breath. Reaction fluttered across her expression, and she closed her eyes as Zhan pressed his lips just to her ear, not quite touching. “Tell. Me.” The whisper was almost not vocalized, but a feeling. It pulsed through the whole room.
Her nipples seemed to tighten, her posture straining her chest against the amusing shirt and giving him a very good look at that arousal.
Zhan used to be the most persuasive of them. No one could deny him anything. Not when he asked like that.
The female opened her eyes—Dahlia opened them, a shiver visible as she shuddered. Turning her head, she gazed into Zhan’s eyes. They were centimeters apart. Zhan would probably feel her breath on his cheeks—no, on his lips, because he shifted so his mouth hovered almost directly above hers.
She parted her lips. Finally. Some answers.
“No.”
The recoil of energy in that rejection staggered his brother, and Zhan gaped at her. Wheeling, he faced Tarus. “How is she doing that?”
“I have no idea,” he murmured. Tapping a single finger against the side of the glass, he waged the internal debate. Take what he wanted or coax it. Take or coax.
She was a brat if ever there was one, and brats shouldn’t be rewarded. But this could be Karmen’s doing. Damn her, why had she interfered?
“Bish is no one to us,” Tarus said finally as he refilled his glass and ignored the stunned look Zhan gave him. “An insignificant jerk at the best of times. Your turn.”
She shrugged. Well, she attempted to shrug. It was a little difficult with her arms tied the way they were. He did give her points for her stubborn determination.
“He was buying me a drink because I broke up with my boyfriend last night.” The corners of her mouth twitched. It was the truth.
“That’s not all of it,” Zhan said slowly. If anyone would know what the truth tasted like, it would have been Zhan, once.
“You wanted me to tell you. I’ve told you. I don’t recall there being a length requirement.” Then her gaze dipped to Zhan’s waist, and Tarus’ brows climbed. There was nothing lascivious about the way she blatantly studied Zhan. If anything, it was enchanting.
Enchanting?
“Are there?” she asked.
“Are there what?” Tarus replied, still turning over the unusual reaction she’d provoked. Who was this woman?
“Length requirements?” The emphasis she placed on the first single syllable word and how she lingered her attention on Zhan’s mid-section sent a mild wave of irritation through Tarus. Maybe she was exactly what Zhan needed. But sometimes, getting what was needed came at too steep a cost.
They both knew that.
“No,” Zhan answered after a moment.
“Pity,” she popped off, and jerked her gaze up to look at their ceiling as she leaned backward as though to test the ropes.
Glancing at him, his brother mouthed ‘pity?’ Tarus shrugged. The innuendo made sense, but the rest of it…not so much.
Then something she said earlier clicked. “Why did you break-up with your boyfriend?”
Dahlia giggled.
The sound grew in force and volume as her face reddened and she hiccupped through the mad laughter. Again.
Zhan turned wide eyes on him. The boyfriend was going to kill her. They’d seen it in his heart. It had echoed in every gesture he’d taken.
But she broke up with him.
“Let’s just say,” she answered finally, tears gleaming on her lashes. “We were going in two totally different directions.”
No. That wasn’t it. It wasn’t a lie, or at least, he didn’t detect one, and Zhan didn’t challenge her. Still, it wasn’t the whole story. When Zhan retrieved a glass, Tarus filled it for him before refilling his own.