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The Unlikeable Demon Hunter (Nava Katz #1)(41)

By:Deborah Wilde


Even better, Rohan had my back. He wouldn't let anything happen to me. Big rock star and demon hunter worried about me. I ducked my head so neither of them could see my silly grin. Lovely boy. Under the cover of darkness that the backseat afforded, I slid my left hand over, curling my fingers into the waist of Rohan's pants.

He turned his head to look at me. Still totally pissed.

I blew him a silent kiss. A curious expression crossed his face. Right. But blowing kisses didn't count, so I blew him another one.



       
         
       
        

Rohan shook his head at me and turned away to stare out the window.

"Kicking in?"

"What?" I looked at Samson.

"You're dancing."

So I was. Grooving away where I sat on the plush leather seat. "It's a good song." I bopped Samson on the tip of his nose.

He laughed, catching my finger and biting gently on it. I rubbed my finger against his teeth for a second because it tickled.

Samson hissed, trailing a finger along my jaw and down my neck.

Party pooper on the other side didn't like that. "We're here." Rohan opened the door and yanked me out.

That won him zero points with Brickie and the security trio, since Samson scooted out, hot on our heels, causing the other four to scramble after us like Keystone Cops from those old silent movies that I'd seen in a film studies class during my brief university stint.

I looked at the nondescript club. More of a warehouse really. Despite the line of sulky beautiful people clamoring to get in, one look at Samson and Rohan now flanking me, and the bouncer lowered the rope. I could get used to this.

Inside the foyer, I handed one of the boys my coat, graciously allowing him to check it. Sashaying down a short hallway, I stepped through a doorway and found myself in a giant black box. Lights pulsed, bass throbbed, and bodies writhed.

Rohan placed his hands on my hips, forcing me to stand still. Even though he'd come up behind me, I knew it was him. I always knew it was him.

"Nava," he said insistently in my ear. "No tapping. Don't give Samson any actual information about yourself."

I froze. Shit. I'd been doing that, hadn't I? I turned around, meeting his eyes. There was none of the anger I expected to find, just an anxious concern.

"Just be careful," he said.

"I know. I'm sorry. I won't screw up. Now you have to have fun, okay?" I smiled, seeing Samson headed toward us. Ecstasy or not, I could stick to the role. I could intrigue.

I swayed my hips, grooving onto the dance floor. They followed like lapdogs, each one making sure the other didn't get too close. Fine by me. Between their posturing and the music, there was no chance to talk and give myself away by saying something stupid.

I made sure not to tap at all.

Eventually, the wusses got tired, drifting off the floor. Not me. No one felt the music as deeply as I did. My heart beat in time to the pulsing lights. I threw my arms high, one with the mass of bodies on the floor, kicking off my shoes and abandoning myself to the music. "Take me higher," the vocalist sang and I obeyed. Blood became melody, heartbeat turned to downbeat. Lighter and lighter and higher and higher I flew. 

Rohan pressed a bottle of water into my hand, breaking my trance. I put my hand on his shoulder, leaning in close to speak to him. "You take good care of me." His shoulder felt really nice so I kept rubbing him. Then I drifted that hand down his chest, my other one snaking around his hip, water bottle still hooked between my fingers. I swayed against his body to the music.

"Nava," he groaned. His eyes turned that molten lava that was rapidly becoming my favorite color.

"Ro," I purred. I tilted my face up to his. "You have the best lips."

His face screwed up like he was in pain. I thought he said, "Not like this," and then, body tense, he twisted himself away from me.

I pouted at him, my hips still shimmying. My head still bobbing.

"Drink your water," he ordered and disappeared into the crowd.

I pressed the bottle against my chest for a minute before chugging it back. It didn't matter that I couldn't see Rohan. An invisible thread connected us. Red. No, sunset orange. Winding around the other dancers to anchor deep inside our chests, I could let myself go and I wouldn't fly off. I tipped my head up, grinning.

A pair of hands slid around my waist and I lit up, thinking he'd come back. But it was Samson. He nuzzled my neck.

None of that, demon boy. I disentangled myself, dancing deeper into the press of bodies. Flirting was fine but there wasn't a dose of ecstasy large enough to make me forget myself enough to hook up with him.