Bad Decisions

When sparks fly

Kassie

Everything. I remembered everything. Every detail on instant replay in my head, like a movie playing back to me in fast forward. I could practically feel every electric touch, the kisses, brushing against my skin as I stood there.

It wasn’t that simple. Nothing was simple.

We gave into primal urges that we had no right to give into. Friends didn’t do…whatever the hell it was that we had done. Hell, his face was in my lady parts. And if I had my way I would’ve done dirty, filthy things to this man. All. Night. Long. Without remorse, without fear of repercussions.

But then I got sick, and he took care of me, like the fuc.king saint he was.

Oh. My. God.

I had cried—actually cried—because I couldn’t screw him. So instead, he cuddled me all night, keeping me warm and safe and feeling lo—

Oh, hell.

None of this was even remotely okay.

And he knew it. His dark eyes peered into me and I could see it evident on his face. He won, and he knew it.

And that meant admitting that this was something more than I could ever comprehend.

And, frankly, that scared me.

So I did what I always did when I was scared. I started yelling. It was word vomit that I couldn’t control. I was in defensive mode now and I was hardly aware of my own words. I didn’t care what I was saying, I only had one goal—to start a fight, to push him away before this went any further.

And it was easy enough, passing blame onto him, telling him it was a mistake and wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t turned into some deranged horny lunatic overnight, suddenly all over me like a damn addict.

I got exactly what I was looking for. That angry glint in his eyes, the slight furrow in his brow as he tried to hold back his anger. The expert of control, slipping before me.

But I didn’t stop there. I kept rambling nonsense at him, until the unexpected pillow slammed into my face.

I stared, stunned at the pillow on the ground, looking back up at him.

His face was smug, probably enjoying the way my mouth fell open and eyes widened at the abrupt assault.

Two could play at that game.

I picked the pillow off the floor, grabbing it tightly by two corners, and lunged forward. I swung it over my head, down on Micah.

He caught it.

Ripping it from my hands, he threw it across the room. In one swift motion, he flipped me on my back, pinning me down to the bed with his body, his hands grabbing mine tightly.

“Can you just stop being a pain in my ass for five minutes?” he snapped.

I stuck my chin up defiantly.

“Oh, go screw yourself, Micah. Don’t act like you’re so fuc.king perfect. I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, but since we got here you’ve been all flirty and having those ‘f**k-me’ eyes. Here I am actually trying to be good—kinda—and it’s like you don’t want to make it easy for me. I’ve been trying to tell you since yesterday about my mom supposedly being a fuc.king demon and here you are fuc.king groping my ass and kissing me like you’ve lost your—“

“Hang on. Rewind. What did you just say?”

“Which part? That you should go screw yourself? Because I mean—”

“You just said your mom was a demon.” He stared down at me with his lips in a tight line and his brows drawn together. “I know I heard you correctly. Where the hell did you get that idea? Your mom was human.”

Oh…crap! Me and my big mouth. I hadn’t meant to let it slip like that.

“Heath told me…while you were sleeping yesterday morning.”

I bit my lip. This wasn’t how I wanted to have this conversation. Micah was still pressed against me, his body warm and distracting. And as much as I argued with him, I couldn’t help but fantasize about him ripping this shirt clean off my body and giving me a repeat of the previous night’s activities.

As if sensing the trail of my thoughts, he pushed off of me and sat up to face me, running his hand through his hair.

“He’s positive?”

“Yes.”

“How, though? Why don’t I know about it? I should be able to tell…” He looked me over as if searching for a telltale sign that it was true.

“I don’t know, Mic. He wasn’t sure.” I sat up, bringing my knees to my chest. “Said he thinks it was sealed off or something.”

Micah released a deep sigh.

“Are you okay? You’re not freaking out…” he said, suspiciously.

“I was…shocked at first, to say the least. But no, I’m fine.”

He looked relieved, as if a weight had been lifted off of him.

“Good. I was worried you would be…” He trailed off and looked away, but I got the gist of what he was trying to say.

I shifted to my knees, moving closer to him so I could grab his face in both my hands. I forced him to look at me, and my breath damn near caught in my throat at how vulnerable he looked.

“I don’t care that you’re a demon, Mic. I never have and never will. And I sure as hell am not going to resent myself because I’m part demon. I’m still me. And I’m pretty damn awesome.”

He chuckled softly, breathily. Reaching forward, he brushed a thumb across my cheekbone.

“Why can’t the world be full of more people like you, Kassandra?”

I wanted to answer him, make a joke about what utter chaos that would be, but the way he stared intently into my eyes, made my brain turn to mush. His thumb traced over my bottom lip, tugging it to part them.

He wasn’t looking in my eyes anymore, but staring at my lips, his intentions clear as day.

“You gonna stab me again if I kiss you, K?”

My lips suddenly felt dry and my tongue darted out to wet them. He watched the movement, his eyes darkening. The chemistry between us was electric. I couldn’t comprehend how, for years, we ignored whatever this was—it’s too intense, raw.

“Maybe.”

“It’s worth it.”

Micah may have been the only man ballsy enough to take me up on a challenge. I was the type to chew men up and spit them out, but Micah didn’t blink. And hell, maybe in another life Mic was a wizard, because with just one touch I was under his spell. My reservations, my will to fight him vanished without a trace as he pressed his lips against mine.

It wasn’t like the others. It was soft and gentle and overflowing with emotion. He wasn’t holding anything back. He tilted his head sideways, deepening the kiss and I was at his every whim, putty in this man’s hands—his big, talented hands.

I let out a breathy sigh when he trailed his lips down to my neck, leaving a trail of delicious warmth that seemed to spark against my skin. Still, he was gentle and it was doing something to me that I'd never experienced before. It was beautiful torture that I’d willingly put myself through over and over again.

But then he stopped, his body stiffening. He pulled back, lifted his head so I could see the puzzled look on his face.

“W-What is wrong?” I’d give anything for him to continue what he was doing.

It was probably a good thing he stopped...

His eyes were zeroed in on my neck as he brought his fingers up to skim around my black velvet choker. His face was studious, and that confused me. Even more so when he brought his hands behind my neck, making quick work of the clasp on the back of the necklace.

“What are you doing?”

The determination was evident on his face, he was a man on a mission and wouldn’t relent.

He pulled my necklace from my neck, staring intently down at it. He brushed his thumb over the crescent moon charm that hung from it thoughtfully. I rubbed my neck, feeling instantly naked; I never took that thing off, not even once. I had worn it for as long as I could remember. It was important—a last piece of my mom.

His eyes flew wide, his fist slammed shut around my necklace, and before I could comprehend, he bolted off the bed and out of the room.

“Mic—! Wait!” I shifted off the bed, starting after him. What the f***k just happened?

I caught up to him and tried to stop him, but he easily brushed me off and continued down the stairs. Curiously, I followed behind him until he stopped in the kitchen.

There, we find Crystal sitting cross-legged in a chair, sipping a cup of some nasty dark mystery liquid.

“Good morning,” she chirped.

Micah slapped his hand down on the counter and pushed the necklace towards her.

“This was you, wasn’t it?” He growled.

My brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. What was this crazy fuc.ker talking about?

She took another sip of her drink before setting it down. She picked up the necklace between her nimble fingers and nodded.

“It was.”

Hold up. What was her? What were these two talking about and why wasn’t I privy to it?

“Why?” He slammed a fist down and I could feel the anger spewing from him.

“Okay, someone explain to me what the f***k is going on. Now.”

Micah peered over his shoulder at me, his eyes black and angry. His nostrils flared and I wouldn’t be surprised if fire rolled out of them.

“She’s why you don’t know your own blood. This necklace is blocking me from sensing the demon part of you—was. I can feel it now.”

“What?!” I stared, wide-eyed.

Micah reached out for her hand with the necklace in it, his large hand looking like it was swallowing her smaller one.

Normally, people would be pissing themselves in the face of Micah’s anger—not Crystal. She wore the perfect face of calm. She wasn’t taking his sh.it. And when sparks flew—actual fuc.king blue electric sparks, like lightning—I unconsciously took a step back.

Micah wasn’t so lucky, he dropped to his knees, not expecting the sudden electrocution. He huffed from the pain and surprise—and oh, was he furious. I could imagine the biggest death glare thrown in her direction. If she were anyone else, and if Micah had less control, I would worry for her life.

“Do not disrespect me in my own home, Micah Pellegrino. You do not know the full story, and I will not tolerate you jumping to conclusions and taking your anger out on me.”

Hot. Damn. Crystal wasn’t as fragile as she appeared. And I officially had a copious amount of respect for her.

“Please do not assume I did any of this intentionally,” she spoke directly to me now. “I only did what was asked of me.”

“And what was that? And you kept it from your own husband?” Micah spat.

I knelt down next to him to check him over and, seeing that he was okay, I gave him a pat on the cheek. It was sweet he cared so much, but I had this handled myself. He wasn’t going to get the answers he desired with his rough and tough attitude—not with this girl.

I stood up, pulling him up with me. Whatever signs of electricity were long gone and he was fine again—even if he was still pissed off.

“M, go,” was all I said to him…and if looks could kill, he would’ve just completely massacred me. But he was angry enough to turn and storm out. He knew he needed time to calm down.

“Sit,” Crystal instructed, of which I happily obeyed. But if she thought I wasn’t going to put her in her place, she’d be very, very fuc.king wrong.

“Let me make one thing very fuc.king clear…” I leaned forward, resting on my elbows as I stared into her soul through her milky eyes. I didn’t care if she could truly see me or not. I knew she could feel it, and I needed her to feel my intentions with it. “Micah can handle whatever you throw at him, but I don’t give two sh.its. The next time you hurt him in any way, it’ll be me you’re dealing with.”

That didn’t mean that I thought he didn’t deserve it. He was acting like an ass and I would’ve messed him up if he had grabbed me like that, but it was different. I didn’t know how to explain it, but I’m sure she understood nonetheless. I was protective over my friend and no one—and I mean absolutely no one—was allowed to hurt him again. He had been through enough.

She grinned at me knowingly. “I would expect nothing else from you, Kassandra.”

I clucked my tongue. Now that that was out of the way… “Good. Now tell me what the actual f***k is going on.”

She sighed, eyes closing.

“I guess I should start from the beginning…”