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Trying not to think about sex.
Last night’s escapade was not enough. Even with all I divulged to A
What is she doing? I go completely still as her hand tentatively touches my knuckles and her fingers slide between mine, soft and warm and small.
She’s holding my hand.
Why is my heart beating so fast? And why does it feel like we’re going entirely too fast and too slow all at once? I search the skies for dark whisperers, stretching my senses in a wide arc, but there’s no sign of spirits.
I let myself feel her hand in mine, even though Kaidan Rowe does not hold hands. The gesture is so simple. So lovely that it rocks something deep inside me. I contemplate pulling away, but decide to let it continue, telling myself it’s all an act, and that two hands touching is not a monumental event.
We lie there a bit longer, holding hands and chatting. She pays close attention as I explain how I visualize the hiding of my aura, and her eagerness draws me in. I find myself wanting her to learn—wanting to assist her. An hour flies by. I’m shocked and relieved by how quickly she catches on. Think of all the other things I can teach her.
That thought sends a shot of lust straight to my groin, and I shift.
Damn it. Focus. We’re not finished working on her aura.
Hiding emotions is much more difficult in real terms. I need to see how she handles disguising her feelings under duress. I need to rattle her. Naturally, lust is the first thing that comes to mind, so I let my instincts take over.
“You know, for the record, A
Please change your mind, I silently beg. Let me train you and have your body just once. Then maybe this ridiculous craving for her will go away.
I touch her ankle and let my fingers and palm slide up the back of her smooth calf. She is frozen under my touch, trying not to let it affect her. I can see the concentration on her face when her small throat flexes with a swallow. I watch her chest heave in shallow gasps as my fingers meet the bend at the back of her knee, ru
“It’s just you and me right now, A
I can and I want to. I’m not interested in taming her. Together we could be a wildfire, out of control, feeding off each other’s breaths. Wanting, needing, taking, consuming. God, it could be so good.
My hand moves farther up, cupping the muscle of her thigh. I want to keep going, but her hand firmly locks around my wrist to stop me.
I search the aura around her, desperate to see a shock of red. I lean in, ready to devour her mouth the moment her lust shows, but it never does, and the disappointment I feel is palpable. It’s a kick to the sack, physically, but mentally I’m torn between being proud of her acquired skills and yet dying to see her colors again. I need to know what she’s feeling.
“No,” she says. I marvel at how her voice can be soft and firm at the same time. Our eyes lock, and there’s so much stirring in her depths. Her long, blond ponytail hangs lazily over one shoulder, untamed wisps of hair escaping. That hair, the way she always ties it back, it’s like a symbol of her wild beauty kept under wraps. I want to let it loose. I want A
It’s only lust, I tell myself. But seducing A
It’s because she’s Neph, I reason.
It’s because she’s your most difficult conquest yet.
It’s because her angel voodoo is fucking with your head.
Yes. All of it.
I break away from her and bend a knee to block my body’s reaction to the lust test. She watches my face closely, always searching.
“Sorry, I had to play dirty,” I tell her, and she sort of nibbles her lip. “Some people work better under pressure. Now, if you don’t mind, I should probably walk it off.”
Yeah, I need to get away from her. I jump down from the rocks and pace, breathing in the night air. When my body is finally under control, I find A
I reach up to help her down, saying, “Come on.” She takes my hand without hesitation, and we walk silently to the hotel.
I’m relieved she’s learned to hide her emotions. We’re one step closer to having her trained. Now all I have to do is bang the i
I’m halfway through my shower when it becomes glaringly obvious that I ca
What I really want to do is go into that room and claim my place directly between A
I come out of the restroom in cargo shorts, and A
I pull a shirt from my bag and finish dressing. It’s time to go. I clear my throat, suddenly nervous, which is shite. I ca
“Right, then,” I say. “I’ll just, um, be out for a bit.”
Her entire being slumps with disappointment, and I feel as if she’s kicked my chest.
“Don’t go,” she says. Another kick. Where is this coming from?
This is who I am, and I refuse to let her make me feel guilty. Anger rises instead, and I grasp it, feeling more at home in its prickly embrace. Where I really want to be is here, tangled with her, but I know that’s not going to happen, which pisses me off.
“I have to work, A
Tell me to stay, little A
“It wouldn’t kill you to take a night off,” she says, jutting out her tiny chin.
It’s kick number three, and anger is giving over to a strong flood of fury.
“Is that so?” I tell myself to relax, but her self-control and judgment and lack of understanding make me want to shake her. Words drip from my mouth like venom. “Says the little doll who’s never had to work a day in her life?” She is not being what she’s supposed to be. I am. She doesn’t know that once you give in to the beast there’s no going back. You must feed it.
But she keeps pushing me—keeps talking about shite she can’t comprehend—keeps trying to make me feel bad for what I am.
“It’s not like demons are monitoring your behavior,” A
She ca