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Armentrout Jennifer L. - Every Last Breath Every Last Breath

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Фантастика и фэнтези

Детективы и триллеры

Проза

Любовные романы

Приключения

Детские

Поэзия и драматургия

Старинная литература

Научно-образовательная

Компьютеры и интернет

Справочная литература

Документальная литература

Религия и духовность

Юмор

Дом и семья

Деловая литература

Жанр не определен

Техника

Прочее

Драматургия

Фольклор

Военное дело

Последние комментарии
оксана2018-11-27
Вообще, я больше люблю новинки литератур
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Professor2018-11-27
Очень понравилась книга. Рекомендую!
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Vera.Li2016-02-21
Миленько и простенько, без всяких интриг
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ст.ст.2018-05-15
 И что это было?
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Наталья222018-11-27
Сюжет захватывающий. Все-таки читать кни
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Every Last Breath - Armentrout Jennifer L. - Страница 31


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“The evening didn’t pan out like I’d wanted,” he said.

That’s when I remembered his surprise. “That’s okay.”

“I wanted to take you out on a date,” he went on, almost as if he hadn’t heard me. “Something normal. Dinner. Maybe a movie.”

Lifting my head, I gazed up at him, startled.

His eyes met mine. “I know that sounds crazy with everything going on, but that’s what...that’s what humans do. They go out. Eat food. Watch a movie neither of them is really paying attention to.”

“They do.”

He shifted onto his side and scooted down so he was eye level with me. “I think they spend the whole dinner and movie thinking about the other person, about what’s going to happen when it’s time to leave. Will she invite him in? Will he invite her? Will there be a kiss? More?”

My toes curled. “Is that how you would spend the time?”

“Yes. A hundred percent yes,” he said. “I wanted to give you that date, though. I wanted to give you that night. That was my surprise.”

Moved through and through, I stretched over and kissed him lightly on the lips. “I want that night with you, but I don’t need it. What I need is this—these seconds and minutes with you. That’s what I’ll always need.”

His hand settled on my arm. “You deserve more than that.”

Because he said that, he deserved another kiss. And because he said that, I fell more in love, even when I didn’t know that was possible. “We had dinner tonight and the TV is on now. That’s as good as a movie. And you’ve taken my mind off the bad things and you’ve told me I’m beautiful. You’ve given me the night you wanted.”

He stared at me for a moment, and then his lips curved up at the corners. His smile raced across his face, softening the harsh lines. Several moments passed before he spoke. “Do you know why sometimes I have to move away from you?” he asked, skimming his fingers along my arm.

The statement caught me off guard. “No.”

Roth tracked the movement of his hand with his gaze. “Whenever I’m around you, I always want to be touching you.”

Muscles low in my stomach tightened in response to his admission.

“I’m not even sure if it’s a want or more of a need to do so,” he continued, and his thick lashes lowered, shielding his eyes. His fingers moved along my stomach to my hip. “It’s always been that way, from the first time I saw you. Even then I wanted to touch you. I think it’s because...there is nothing like you where I’m from. Your inherent goodness,” he said, lifting his gaze to mine. “I can feel it. I don’t know, maybe I just like the way your skin feels under my hands. Who knows? I might have a boundaries problem.”

I grinned. “Maybe just a little, but I don’t mind.”

We lay in silence for a few moments and my thoughts began to wander beyond tonight, beyond all our most pressing problems, and into a very unknown future. “I was thinking.”

“Oh no.”

I laughed lightly, and then whatever humor I was feeling vanished. “What are we going to do?” I whispered.

Roth stiffened. “That’s a broad question, Shortie.”

“I know.” Snuggling close, I let the warmth of his body steal inside of me. “But I’m thinking about a decade from now.”

“Hmm. A decade. I like the sound of that.”

“I was thinking about two decades from now. Three. When I’m in my forties and look forty, and you look like you do right now,” I explained, staring into the darkness. “Isn’t that going to be weird?”

“No.”

There wasn’t a moment of hesitation on his end, but I laughed. “Oh come on, at some point, you’re going to look like my son. The Warden blood in me means I age, Roth. I might look younger than I am when I’m older, but I will age and I will—”

“Don’t say it.” His voice was clipped. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

I swallowed as I lifted my head, meeting his bright gaze. “But it is true. How will we be together when I’m ninety and you look eighteen? How—?”

“I don’t know how we’ll make it work, but we will make it work. Somehow. And who knows if you will continue to age? I get that you’ve aged so far, but maybe that will stop. Layla, you’re part demon.

Demons don’t age. Maybe the Warden blood has watered down some aspects, but look what’s happened when you’ve shifted recently. You’re changing and you don’t—we don’t—know all of what that means.”

“You make it sound so easy,” I said after a moment. “Like me looking like your grandmother one day isn’t a big deal.”

“It’s not.” He cupped my cheek. “I don’t think you understand what it means when a demon falls in love, Layla. It doesn’t go away. It doesn’t fade, even if we want it to. We love until death. That’s not just something we say. We love and we love once and it’s forever. No matter what. And that’s a bit twisted if you think about it, but luckily you feel the same way, so this isn’t awkward. You feel me?”

Paimon, the Upper Level demon who’d loved Lilith and who’d kick-started all of this when he tried to free her, had said something similar, but coming from Roth, it was like the first taste of chocolate.

It didn’t wash away all my concerns, but it made me feel better about them, gave me hope that we could face them together, even if I needed a walker when we were facing the problem.

“God, Roth, sometimes...sometimes you’re just perfect.”

I expected a snarky response, like he would normally give me, but his hand traveled up to my cheek, and then slid around the nape of my neck. He guided me so I was nestled against him, my head tucked under his chin and one of his legs curled around mine. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

Roth’s thumb moved idly along the base of my scalp. “It’s moments like these that I need, too.”

twelve

STANDING IN FRONT of the chair, I felt like I’d drunk a case of highly caffeinated drinks. Nervous energy consumed me, and I shifted from one foot to the other, not unlike I’d seen Thumper do at Stacey’s house.

“Can this wait?” I asked, wiping my damp palms along my hips. “I mean, I really think this can wait.”

Grinning like a cat that just cornered a herd of mice, Roth knew better than to get too close to me at the moment, because there was a good chance I might punch him. “Now is as good a time as any, Shortie.”

I wrinkled my nose as I folded my arms across my chest and glanced over to where Cayman was fiddling with a massive contraption that looked like a power tool, but I knew it wasn’t. “Can he really do this?”

Lifting his gaze to me, Cayman smiled. “I can do just about everything, teacup.”

“Not everything,” Roth reminded him.

Cayman shrugged, and then he hit something on the tool he held and a droning hum filled the office in the back of the club. My eyes widened as my muscles stiffened. “Is it...supposed to be that loud?”

Cayman laughed.

“Shortie, you’ve faced down Nightcrawlers and Raver demons, you cannot be that scared of getting a tattoo.”

I whipped around toward Roth. “You’re not the one getting the tattoo, so maybe you should just shut up.”

Behind me, Cayman snorted, and I whirled toward him, shooting him my best death glare. “You, too. Shut it.”

He shut it.

“I have five tats, Shortie, I know what it feels like,” Roth cajoled, his hands raised at his sides. “It’ll sting, but you’re strong. You’ll deal.”

I didn’t want to deal.

I also didn’t want to be acting like such a baby, but I couldn’t look forward to sitting down and allowing someone to dig ink into my body. Why had I thought this was a good idea?

Cayman rose. “Are we going to do this or not? Because I’m sure all of us have stuff to do. Like you all have a Lilin to find and I have deals to broker.”

“It’s up to you, Layla,” Roth said. “If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”

A huge part of me wanted to jump on the out he offered, but getting a familiar tattooed on my skin was the smart thing to do. It would make me stronger and I’d have my own built-in backup system if things got out of hand. So I needed to woman up. “I want to do this.”