“I was a little busy, in case you hadn’t noticed,” he said, lacing up his pants.
I could barely breathe, and at this point, I wasn’t even sure air was what I needed.
He moved to stand in front of me, muscled chest heaving, eyes so full of passion, of want. “I’m trying to be so good,” he whispered, “when all I want is to be so very bad.”
I didn’t move, letting his words, his breath, his scent, wash over me. Why was this so spirits-damned difficult? I hated him, so why couldn’t I just say no? Why couldn’t my body and my mind be on the same page, and why was my body always winning out? Despite myself, I took a step closer to him.
Wordlessly, I lifted my hand and let it trail down his chest. He stilled under my touch. Thick dark curls covered his pecs, his abs carved out by muscle. Blood and water, I missed touching him.
He closed his eyes, his entire body tensing.
“What were you thinking about?” I asked, voice low. “Just now, while in bed?”
My fingers dragged lower, closer to the waistline of his leather pants.
“What do you think?” he gritted out. “The only thing I think of night and day. The one thing I want that I cannot have.”
I was weak, so weak, and I didn’t care. “What if I told you that you can have me? Right now. You can throw me on that bed anddo what you want with me. Or take me on the floor. Maybe bend me over your desk?” I wanted it all.
A muscle feathered in his jaw, and his eyes squeezed shut even tighter. “Love, you’re not thinking straight. You lost your father today.”
“I don’t care.” The words came out ragged and raw.
He raked a hand through his hair, eyes opening, clear now, that fire dimming. “I can’t believe these fucking words are coming out of my mouth, but no. This cannot happen. The other night on the beach was a mistake.”
I reeled back like I’d been slapped. His words a knife to my gut.
Fuck. My face flushed.
What was I doing? I’d just thrown myself at the pirate lord because I got a peek at his hard cock? I was losing it. Absolutely losing it.
Tears pricked my eyes as shame bubbled up. I felt so stupid. I crossed my arms over my chest as Bastian reached for me.
“Come here, love,” he said, his voice so full of pity it broke something in me.
“No.” I stepped back, out of reach. “I’m just here for the trident, okay? That’s why I broke in. I want to see it.”
He stroked his now-trimmed beard. He must’ve visited a barber on the island today. “How do you bloody know how to pick a lock?”
“Does it really surprise you that I do?” I asked.
“No,” he murmured, “I suppose not.”
I bit my lip. “Is the trident from the shadow court? Was it made from someone’s shadow being ripped from them?”
He shook his head. “No, that object is not from Sorrengard.”
So I’d been right. It had to belong to Spirit Water. Holy fuck. This could change everything. If the other courts knew about its existence, they’d surely want to find the objects associated withthe other six spirits. Then again, this could be dangerous in the wrong hands. I didn’t know what kind of power such an object could wield.
“Listen,” Bastian said. “Let’s leave it for tonight. You’ve had a long day. Now is not the time to investigate?—”
“Why does it matter?” I snapped, glad to have a reason to snap, a reason to yell. “I found it. It was with my father’s body. It belongs to the spirit of the water court. You don’t get to just hide it away and pile it on top of all your other secrets.”
I pushed past him and yanked the sheets off his bed. “Where is it?”
“Ah yes, I regularly sleep with hard metal rods in my bed.”
I ignored him, lifting the mattress and searching underneath. It was nowhere in sight. I let the mattress drop back down with a thunk.
