Immortal Healer (13 page)

He pulled back from her, and before he could stop himself, he leaned to her lips and kissed her. It was sweet, gentle, innocent, but it was a kiss. She gasped, and he did too as he set her back down. She touched her lips as though shocked at what he’d done, and he shook his head, literally shocked at what he’d done.

It wasn’t as though they didn’t share some kind of very personal intimacy, but this was … different. He hadn’t meant to do it, and he was suddenly sure he’d crossed a line. He didn’t actually want that line to exist, but it did, and he had crossed it. After Devlin gave them some last minute details and instructions on the next day, they left and ignored one another the entire ride home.

He was in pain from being out in too bright of light, and so he focused on her heart pounding; his was pounding too. He could feel his back and stomach burning as his body tried to reject the ultraviolet rays. His jaw clenched as he tried to stifle the pain, and since they were ignoring one another, it worked out well. They were silent too as they made their way to his residence, and the moment they were in his living room, he turned to her and opened his mouth to speak. Naturally, Ember, Brit, Truman, Angus and Aaron barged in at that exact second, leaving Abigail and Quentin nervously staring at one another as the group filtered in around them.

“Does anyone knock around here?” He muttered as he turned to the group.

“So?” Ember asked, as if she could barely contain herself.

“Ahem! Maybe introductions first?” Brit glared with a smirk on her face at Ember as Ember rolled her eyes. “Abigail, this is Angus. He’s head of our council, and he just arrived back early this morning.” Brit was all business as she spoke, but then, it was Brit, and it was usually all business, but as Angus smiled at her, her cheeks relaxed, and she seemed to melt just a bit. There was something very similar about the way Angus seemed to calm Brit and the way he was with Abigail. They were as different as could be, but it was still familiar.

“It’s good to meet you, Abigail. I’ve heard a lot about you, and I’m glad you’re here. This is Aaron. He’s out newest councilman.” She took turns shaking both of their hands with a tentative look on her face.

Abigail filled them in on the developments with her case, looking fairly shy and nervous as she spoke. She only ever really seemed to relax around him, and he was terrified he might have destroyed that comfort with her. He needed her trusting and calm with him. Kissing her was not the way to get it. She may be attracted to him, and he knew damn well she was, but that didn’t mean he had any business taking liberties with her.

They all listened, eager to hear how it had gone, and they were all genuinely thrilled for her. It didn’t mean he wasn’t ready for them to leave. He loved his friends, but he was in pain. He needed out of the clothes that were rubbing painfully like sandpaper against the burns running up his back and chest. He could feel a warm uncomfortable tingle on his skin, and it left him flushed. When they finally left, he excused himself quickly to his bedroom.

*

She knew he was uncomfortable. She could see it in the way he moved under his clothing gingerly, trying not to let the fabric brush his skin. He’d done it for her, of course. He did most things for her. She’d responded poorly to his kiss. It was nice, incredibly nice, and she wasn’t ready for it to end, but it had shocked her, and in her shock she’d acted like the lunatic she was. She wanted to kiss him. It was him. Just Quentin. And now he’d left her staring after him, feeling like a dumbass.

She sought him out shortly thereafter, finding his door slightly cracked. She almost entered, but as she took a step toward the partially open door, she caught sight of him on his balcony, and she froze. It was dark out now, and he was utterly naked, standing in the moonlight. Her fingers trembled as she reached quietly to hug the doorframe. She watched, feeling horribly nosy but unable to look away. He was stunning.

It wasn’t as though she didn’t already know he was beautiful. It was quite obvious. But she’d not imagined just how beautiful every last inch of him would be, at least every last inch of his backside. His buttocks were strong and round. Even she could appreciate just how nice it must feel to squeeze and grip the incredible strength of those muscles. His legs were lean, long and strong. His build was the perfect blend of height and strength. Not too tall, not too short, not too muscular, not too lanky. Perfection. The indentation where his lower vertebra met his bottom called to her, and she could see herself tracing her fingers along the skin where it dipped in slightly.

His back was strong, marked slightly with what appeared to be healing burns. They were nothing more than light pink patches at this point, and it was easy to focus on the beauty of his physique over the slightly marred spots. The sight of the muscles that ran the length of the back of his arms left her wanting to approach him, grip the tight muscles while her body closed in behind his. There was no fear in anything she saw. It was Quentin. He was her safe dream man who’d broken through to real life, and she was practically drooling as she waited for him to turn around.

He stood quietly for a good long time as her eyes traveled and explored every last inch of his flesh. God, she wanted him to turn around. When he started to turn, she gasped, and then … well then she found herself up against the wall in his room with his eyes glaring down at her. She knew he was fast, but shit, she hadn’t expected that. She just looked up into his beautiful grayish blue eyes. She wanted to look down, but that would be wrong. About as wrong as spying on him.

“If you want to stare at me, at least give me the pleasure of knowing your eyes are on me.”

One palm was flat to her chest, gently holding her in place. The other held the side of her waist, and as she watched his eyes, the hand at her waist squeezed and stroked the skin just under the bottom of her shirt. It was subtle, but it was enough to set her on fire, and the warm wetness he’d gotten so good at inciting was suddenly there in full force.

He turned, pulling her with him to his bed, and when he climbed in, he quickly pulled the sheet over his groin as he rolled over, denying her the view she really wanted. Why the hell did she want to see him so damn much? She hated penises. Didn’t she? She wasn’t capable of hating any part of this man, frankly, and if his penis was as perfect and beautiful as the rest of him, well there was little hope she’d be hating it just on principle.

“You can look at anything you want. But before you expect me to be completely inhuman, you should understand there’s little chance this isn’t going to arouse me.” His gaze studied her. She was absolutely okay with that. “And I expect you to be just as naked as I am. Take your shirt off.” He was challenging her.

She stripped the worn but well fitted T-shirt off over her head and then moved her fingers deftly back to unclasp the hook and eye closures of her bra. She let it fall from her arms. She was nervous, but the warmth that pulsed between her legs made it clear that wasn’t all she was feeling. He held her gaze for some time before slowly allowing his eyes to drift down to her breasts. His jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared as he studied her figure.

When his eyes returned to hers, he licked his lips. “And if you intend to pull this sheet back, you had better be prepared to lose your pants and underwear too.” She inhaled and exhaled slowly before nodding. She undid the button and zipper of her jeans, pushing both her underwear and her jeans down to her ankles. She looked back up just to see his lips parted, his fangs visible, and his jaw working as if to stifle his need to bite something. He looked positively ravenous. And she was positively aroused as a result.

She stood before him, letting his eyes move over every inch of her skin at his speed. His eyes stopped over her groin, and she shivered as more warmth rushed to her sex. His lips trembled as his nostrils flared, and he inhaled deeply. “Oh, fuck.” He muttered quietly as his eyes left her body and stared at the ceiling. “Abigail, we really shouldn’t…”

“Please.” She sounded a bit too desperate.

She approached the side of the bed and sat at his hip, waiting for his gaze to return. She was itching to pull back that damn sheet so bad it was killing her. Odd or not, she wanted what was under there. She got tired of waiting for his eyes and reached for the top of the sheet that was bunched up and sitting on his stomach. His hand caught hers before she made it to his body. He met her eyes as a huff of breath left him. He stared impassively, but the set of his jaw was all tension. He didn’t understand where she was coming from. She wasn’t sure she did either.

She watched him as her brow furrowed. It was him. He was the key to it all. Nothing much had really changed. She didn’t like men, but she loved this man. She didn’t want men, but she wanted this man. She would have no interest in what was under that sheet were it part of any other man in the world, but part of
this man
, and she’d be damned if she wasn’t about two seconds away from begging.

“Please.” She begged again. Her voice was quiet, and she swallowed painfully over the lump in her throat. He swallowed hard over his own lump but nodded. He released her wrist, and she reached again for the sheet with a trembling hand. He studied her face as she slowly pulled back the sheet, and when she inhaled a sharp gasp, he didn’t move a muscle.

Her breath was coming in raspy gasps as she studied his every inch. His penis was lying rigid and hard against his stomach. He was large in breadth and length, and intimidating as that was, it also sent muscle spasms shooting through her wet center and clamping down hard on nothing but the place her body wanted him to be. He was veined, and she followed the trail of one up his length. The skin drew up in a peak that met the slit of his entry, and there she caught sight of one small pearly drop of cum. She wanted to touch and toy and taste, just like a child in a candy story, but instead, she licked her lips and tried to calm her pounding heart.

She knew he was watching her, but she couldn’t seem to pull her gaze from his cock to meet his eyes. He was just so fucking beautiful.

“Maybe you should say something.” She’d been silently staring, frozen in some unknown state for far too long, and his words jolted her out of it. “I’d sure feel better if you at least said
something.
”

It was hard not to stare, but as she looked up to his eyes, she whimpered quietly. Her body felt like fire was coursing through her veins, and she was so absolutely and pathetically aroused she could think of little else. When she reached for him, she wasn’t really thinking about
what
she was doing, so much as what she
wanted
. But he caught her wrist swiftly with his hand. His face cocked to the side in warning, and he glared at her with flared nostrils.

She was mildly stunned when he suddenly stood from the bed and walked naked from the room to his bathroom. She was left feeling stupid and vulnerable and not having any idea exactly what to do. She followed him. She was hurt, but she was also desperate. She needed something from him, and she wasn’t sure what it was. Her mind imagined him soothing her, telling her it was okay, reassuring her she was fine. It was sexual, but it was also very emotional. It was a hole in her soul she couldn’t quite figure out how to fill, but she knew he somehow could.

She found him in his shower. The water beat down on his shoulders as his head hung down. His hands were braced on the tile wall in front of him, and there was no deciphering what was going on in his mind. She stepped into the enclosure and stood against the back wall as he righted himself and turned to her. He was still hard and erect, and her eyes followed the line of his body down to his groin. He just watched her with a slack jaw and defeated expression.

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

“What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing.” His eyes softened, and she was drawn to the warmth in them. He turned from her, facing the wall again. She approached him. She was terrified but equally desperate to feel something from him, anything at all. She stepped in front of him, forcing him to deal with her. When she met his eyes, his jaw clenched, and she let her fingers travel to the rippling hard muscles of his stomach. He flinched as he sucked in a breath, and she trailed her fingers lower.

Just as swiftly as he stopped her before, his hands dropped and clutched her wrists again. “Fuck, Abby. Please stop.”

The hurt from his words was swift, but it dissipated in a moment as her gaze traveled up to see the same desperation in his eyes as she felt. He moaned quietly, and his forehead dropped to hers. He wanted this so much. She knew he did, and yet he was torturing them both.

“Let me watch you.” She wasn’t entirely sure where the confidence to say the words came from. She only knew he needed it, and she wanted it.

His decision seemed to take a small eternity, an eternity that left their foreheads together, his fingers softly brushing against the skin of her wrists, and that left them both gulping deep calming breaths of air. When he released one of her wrists, he reached for his erection, his hand paused, pulled away, fisted tightly, and then returned. She watched as his fingers grasped the shaft, and he gripped hard. The side of his forehead was against the side of hers as they both looked down at the movement of his hand between their bodies. He pulled up, rounding the head as he sucked in a breath of air before gliding back down. His breathing was ragged, and he moaned quietly.

He didn’t pull away as her free hand moved to grip the side of his waist. She wanted so desperately to mimic his hand, feel the way he was pleasuring himself, experience the hard, heavy weight of his erection in her hand. She didn’t care where her want came from. It was just him. And she wanted him.

Her fingers dug into his sides as the speed of his strokes quickened. She could see the muscles of his stomach clenching and releasing as his body prepared to let go, and his moans started coming on a ragged breath. “Abby.” He cried out her name quietly as he turned his face into the side of hers, and that’s when his cum was released on her stomach. She watched it spurt from his cock onto her stomach, and a deep breath left her own lungs.