His Greatest Redemption [REUPLOADED]

18

My darkest desires were tucked away in the back of my mind, the kind of things I'd never tell anyone else. Like the edginess flaring in my stomach at the memory of me and him in that kitchen earlier. There was practically a heat wave rumbling inside my body, making me feel extremely hot. And there was still this restless ache between my legs.

And I didn't like it one bit. I hated feeling as though Spade could see through the façade I spent decades building. I had let my guard down one too many times around him before I could even catch myself, and I had to stop.

What was the difference between him and any other man I've ever faced? I felt intimidated by him and it was messing with my head.

Just as I was about to hit the bottom of the stairs, the sight of him caused me to halt. He was freshly showered and changed, dressed in a simple gray short-sleeved shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He was standing near the door, a blunt hanging between his plump lips as he spoke on the phone. When he looked up, he blew out a thick cloud of smoke and hung up his phone call.

He slowly ran his eyes back up to my face from my legs, "What are you wearing?" There was a hint of a frown on his stupidly gorgeous face.

I finished coming down the stairs and huffed a breath of annoyance. Was he ever happy? Doubted it. "Clothes." I mumbled. I had on a black pair of ripped shorts and a strawberry colored crop top that read 'I love to make boys cry.' In red ink. The black oversized jacket I had over it practically cloaked me, but I left it unzipped.

He glanced at me up and down once more before shaking his head and blowing out a circle of smoke. I watched, amazed, as the ring drifted into the air. No doubt if I was in front of him, it would've hit me smack dead in the face. "How do you do that?" I asked, approaching him.

He threw on his black hoodie and raised his eyebrows, "With my mouth." And then he squashed his cigarette with the palm of hand, not once flinching.

Does he do that often?

I went to open the door, but as soon as my fingers curled around the handle, the door was slammed shut and a large hand grabbed me by the hood of my jacket. "Zip up your jacket, Samantha." He whispered into my ear from behind, and something fluttered in my tummy when his lengthy fingers splayed across my bare skin. I wasn't butterflies I was feeling, it was a damn zoo.

I turned my head over my shoulder and looked at his face, wishing he weren't so damn hot so that my situation would be a lot easier. "Why?" I raised an eyebrow. "Worried I might catch pneumonia, Lucifer?"

He did a slow show of licking his bottom lip and chuckling under his breath, shaking his head slowly. "You could fucking get frost bite for all I care, I'm just not in the mood to get my hands dirty." He flipped up my hoodie over my head and then opened the door, shoving me outside onto the porch of the house. I scowled and quickly caught my footing. "Dickface." I mumbled as I reached down and zipped my jacket up. It was cold, I'll admit.