Authors: Samantha Towle
Original Sin (27 page)
Staying inside me, he kisses me again, slowly. Then finally moving, he lays beside me, wrapping his arms tight around me, holding me to him as I rest my head on his chest. He reaches up and grabs the blanket off the back shelf, laying it over our entwined naked bodies.
I snuggle closer to him and he tightens his hold on me.
“Are you happy?”
“I’m happy,” he says, and I can feel his smile.
After a while I feel his breaths start to labour.
“You’re tired?” I smooth my hand over his chest, fingers tracing over my tattoo. ut oquotI still can’t believe he did this.
“Yeah.” He sighs. “I haven’t had much sleep.”
“You didn’t sleep last night?” I glance up at him.
“I haven’t slept properly since you left.”
I look away, pressing my lips together, holding back a painful breath.
“Just don’t leave this time, okay?” he says, gripping me with his fingers, his voice sounding so very tired.
Nuzzling his neck, I press a kiss to skin, feeling sick that he even has to ask, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.”
I’m never, ever, leaving you again.
Chapter 26: Hunger
I wake in Nathan’s bed with him beside me, awake and watching me.
This is so much better than when I woke yesterday morning, or any other morning for the last six months when I’ve woken without him, for that matter.
“Hey,” I mumble, groggily.
“Hey, yourself.” His deep voice strokes over my senses, like a feather on my skin.
He leans in and kisses me. It’s a long, slow kiss. No tongues though, thankfully. Morning breath, not so pretty. Not that I imagine I look any shade of pretty at the moment. Bed hair and all.
I’m fully aware of how bad I can look in a morning. But then again, since yesterday afternoon he’s seen, and had me, in pretty much all of the hair ruffling sexual positions known to man, sweating and near to depletion. The guy is a walking encyclopaedia of sexual positions, and how best to do them.
Not that I’m complaining. Far from it.
Memories of yesterday flood my mind, sending shivers running through me and raising a blush in my cheeks.
Yesterday, Nathan sleep a short while in the truck, I laid awake with him the whole time, just happy to be in his arms. Then when he woke, he seemed better, refreshed. We dressed and came back to the house; me with the intention of him getting some more sleep. It didn’t quite work out that way. We’ve only left to use the bathroom, and Nathan once when he went downstairs to get us sustenance. Apart from that we’ve not left his bed.
As I’ve discovered, Nathan has a lot of stamina. A heck of a lot. Well, so do I for that matter. But he has way, way,
way
more.
We’ve used condoms the whole time. Neither of us has mentioned the fact we didn’t in the truck. I’m sure I’ll be fine, but even still I’ll ask Nathan to go pick the morning after pill up for me later.
But we both finally passed out a few hours ago from sheer exhaustion. As it seems though, my body has a hard time sleeping in close proximity to Nathan, hence why I’m awake now.
“You slept?” I check.
“I did.” He smiles.
“Have you been awake long?” I ask, stroking my fingers over his hard chest.
“No.” He traces my lower lip with his fingertip. “I woke a few minutes before you did.”
Seems our bodies are in sync too. I like that. A lot.
“Nice hair by the way.” He flicks his eyes up cheekily, to my hair.
A self-conscious hand flies up to my current bird's nest. It’s all stuck up at the back.
“Screw you,” I say, grinning, trying to smooth it down to presentable. “You’re not looking so hot yourself.”
That’s a complete lie. I don’t think there is ever a moment Nathan doesn’t look gorgeous.
“Promises, promises,” he murmurs.
I grunt a response at him and run my fingers over his shoulder, up the back of his neck and into his own short presentable hair as he leans in and starts to kiss my neck.
“Speaking of hair, when did you cut yours?” I ask, loving the feel of his lips on my skin, but realising I haven’t even mentioned it until now.
He stops kissing and moves back. I groan inwardly at the loss of contact. Resting his head on the pillow, he stares at me.
“When, or why?”
Hmm.
I go for when.
“A while ago. I’ve been keeping it short. Less hassle.”
Okay. “Why?”
“Why, am I keeping it short?” He queries, knowing full well what I mean. He only prolongs things when he doesn’t want to answer a question. And now I’m curious.
“No. Why did you cut it in the first place?”
I see emotion flicker through his eyes. There’s a noticeable pause before he speaks.
“I was angry.” Deep breath. “At you.”
And now I wish I’d never asked. I try, unsuccessfully, to quell the pain it causes me.
Looking away, I whisper, “I’m sorry.” My voice is hoarse and apologetic.
He cups my chin with his hand, forcing my eyes up to his.
“Don’t be.”
His gaze is warm, soft. It eases my pain right away.
“I like it,” I say softly, running my finger over his cropped hair, and curving it around his ear.
“No you don’t.” He smiles.
“Okay, I don’t,” I grin.
“I’ll grow it back.”
“Do that.” Moving closer to him, I wrap my leg around his, put my arm over his waist, rest my face against his chest, and hug him.
Putting his arm around me, he hugs me right back, firmly, holding me tight to him.
“Did I tell you I missed you?” I say, my words muffled by his chest.
“A couple of times.” I can hear the smile in his voice. But still, he doesn’t tell me he missed me.
Just as he didn’t in the truck or on the couple of other occasions I’ve told him. Neither has he reciprocated when I’ve told him I love him over the last twelve hours, and yes, mostly I said it when I was reaching climax, but that’s not the point, it doesn’t make it any less true.
He’s said a couple of choice words, ‘I need you’, ‘You’re all I want’, but for someone who claims to have been in love with me before I left; which he’s only ever said once, mid-argument in past tense, has said nothing to the contrary since.
I get that he’s not the caring, sharing, emotional type; it takes a lot to get that side out of him, but sometimes a girl just needs to hear it. Needs to know where she stands.
Or maybe that’s just it. He did love me, now it’s not love anymore. Maybe he lost that while I was away.
I shift back out of his embrace, putting a gap between us.
It’s his turn to not look happy about the loss of contact, but then he doesn’t make a move to touch me again either.
Okay, so now my mind is cranking up gear and working on its usual overtime, and I’m starting to worry that maybe this whole thing is mostly … just about sex for him.
The control Nathan needs to have is one part of this equation, especially when it comes to me. The incessant idea he has that he has to take care of me. That it’s his responsibility to keep me safe because he saved my life.
Well, my life’s been saved again since by Zeff, so that kind of null and voids that argument, if he raises it. Actually thinking about it, it’s probably best I don’t say that to him.
“So …” I say.
“So …” he mirrors, curiously, leaving the obvious ‘what’ off the end.
I brace myself to ask the question I have to ask. The one where I’m basically laying all my cards out the table to him, but I don’t care, I have to know what this is we doing here, aside from the obvious.
I know a lot of things have been said between us in the last twenty-four hours. Mostly coming from me, a small amount from him, which could be interpreted as to what I want us to be, of how he feels about me. About us, if there is an us.
But that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m right. I’ve been wrong about Nathan a lot of times in the past and he hasn't exactly been forthcoming with his words since we woke.
Basically since the sex is currently sitting at score nil.
I have to ask so I make no error in where I stand with him. And I know for a fact I’ll regret it if I don’t ask him.
I take a deep breath. “Nathan.”
“Alex.” A smile starts to play on his lips.
“Stop it.” I playfully punch him in the arm. “I’m trying to be serious here.”
“Sorry. Go on.” He gestures, but I can still see the trace of humour in his eyes, sparkling away at me.
Fighting the reddening I can feel rising up through the skin on my face, the one set to cover my whole body to a shade of inferno, I ask, after inhaling another deep breath, “So what exactly are we doing here? What I mean is, are we just having sex –”
“Not currently we’re not.” His smile widens. “But that can be rectified.” He moves in closer and reaches his hand down between my legs.
I clamp my thighs on his hand, trapping it. “I’m trying to talk to you here.”
His eyes widen at my serious tone. Slowly, he retracts his hand and shifts back to his side of the bed.
Okay, so that action hasn’t exactly bolstered my confidence. And now I’m feeling kind of cold.
Fuck it. All or nothing.
“Nathan, are we doing this? What I mean is - are we together?”
Raising an eyebrow, he says, “Together?”
“Yeah, you know … me and you … like, together, together.”
So far this isn’t going well and I’m very quickly getting embarrassed, but more so irritated, with myself and him.
He rubs his finger over his lips. I know he’s trying to hide a smile. “Like, together, together,” he echoes, dryly.
He’s taking the piss.
“Fuck off,” I say, hitting him again, this time in the chest, and not so much playfully this time, but still I grin.
He catches hold of me by my wrist. My grin fades the second his expression changes from amused to intense.
Keeping his large hand encircling my wrist, he places his other palm flat against mine. My mouth dries. He slides his fingers, slowly down, in-between mine. My heart starts to beat an unsteady rhythm in my chest.
He stares at our entwined hands for a long moment, then, slowly lowering them, he rests our hands on the space on the bed between us.
He brings his eyes to meet mine. I see depth in them, the depth which he doesn’t show often. “If that’s the Alex way of asking, would I like us to be in a relationship, then I’d say that’s pretty obvious.”
I’m getting nothing from his even tone. I swallow.
“Obvious … how?”
His face turns from intense to serious in a second, his eyes darkening. “Obvious, as in, I’ve spent the last six months searching the world for you. That good enough?”
He doesn’t give me chance to respond before he starts up again. “Or, obvious, because I smash my buddy's car window out – the car that is the current and
only
love of his life – which he’s gonna make me pay dearly for, so I could have sex in it, with you, because I couldn’t think past anything but being inside you, right there and then.”
Okay, so I’m getting the distinct impression he’s pissed off by my question. But Nathan, and more than two sentences in a row, especially in this context, is not something I’m going to interrupt. Especially not since his words are making my whole body quiver in the best kind of way.
“Or because I haven’t been able to think of anything but you, for the last six months … fuck … since you came into my life for that matter! About being with you, having a life with you, kissing you, holding you, tasting you – basically doing everything we’ve done over the last twelve hours together. Making love, fucking, or however you want to phrase it, all over my bedroom, because I’m so desperate for you, so desperate to make up for the time we lost. Or how about, because I look at you and everything just makes sense. And I can’t see another day in my future without you in it. But if that’s not enough to show it, then …” He pauses, breathless, his gaze even harder on me, bewilderment shrouding it. “How do you not even know?”
I feel out of breath just listening to him. “Know what?” The nerves show in my voice.
He shakes his head lightly, not moving his eyes from mine. “That I’m crazy in love with you, and I have been from the day I sat here with you, praying for you to live.”
An intense heat fires up in my belly, shaking my core. I blink rapidly, my eyelids matching my current heart rate.
“You were? I mean, you are?” I don’t know which question to address first.
“Yes.”
“You’re crazy in love with me?”
I have to ask again, etching it out, because I don’t know if or when I’ll ever hear a speech like that from him again.
But I like that I can fire him up so much. It’s doing plenty for my confidence right now.
He brings our hands to his mouth and brushes his lips over my knuckles, his eyes not leaving mine. “Completely and utterly.”
I can’t contain my feelings anymore, and I move, with no hesitation, ensuring my mouth meets with his, clamping myself to him, kissing him firmly. Any prior worries of my morning breath, gone. Nathan’s mouth opens under mine, his tongue roaming my mouth, taking me into him. His hand moves to my back, holding me to him and I start to lose all my senses in him.
“I’m crazy in love with you too,” I gasp, coming up for air.
He groans, a delicious sound. Then his tongue delves back into my mouth, making me dizzy with want. My hand goes lower, wrapping around him.
He sighs into my mouth. It’s not a positive sigh. It’s more of a, ‘I’m not going to ravage you right here and now’, kind of sigh.
“Right now there is nothing more I want to do – than you,” he murmurs. “Believe me … but you’re hungry and you need to feed.”
How does he do that? How does he know when I’m hungry?
I sigh out my disappointment, knowing full well he’s not going to let me wait to feed and have my wicked way with him beforehand. Nathan is practical, if anything.
I’m going to have to tear myself away from him to go hunting. I highly doubt they’ve got any blood stocked up for me here, and it has been way too long since my last feed. I just haven’t wanted to be away from him to do so.
He starts to move away from me. “You stay here and I’ll go get you some blood. I’ll be real quick, then we’ll pick this straight back up.”
I stop him, taking hold of his arm. “No. It’s okay, I can go myself.”
He looks back at me.
“I’ve fed myself for the last six months, remember?”
I see a flicker of pain in his eyes. Well done for reminding him, Alex. Really, well done.
“I remember,” he says, low.
“Sorry,” I cringe. “Hey, look I’ve got an idea,” I say brightly, as it suddenly appears in my mind.
This I know he will definitely like.
Climbing over him I get out of bed, and go over to his wardrobe. I can feel him watching me, with interest, and unmistakable lust in his eyes. I love that the sight of me naked has him feeling the way I think he is feeling right now. Because I know one million percent that the sight of him does exactly the same to me.
“Care to share?” he asks as I open the wardrobe doors wide.
“No. It’s a surprise.”
“What are you doing?” he questions, as I start rummaging him surprisethrough his wardrobe.
“Getting us both some clothes.” I pull out a pair of his jeans and his Jim Morrison T-shirt. I love him in that. I toss them over onto the bed where he’s still laid.
“So, you’re dressing me nowadays too?” he quips.
Pushing the duvet and clothes aside, he sits up, putting his feet to the floor.
I grin at him over my shoulder and gain an involuntary shudder at the sight of him. I have had my hands and mouth all over that body. I mentally shake my head clear.
“You could do with the help,” I say dryly.
“Well, can I get a shower first, ma’am?”
Still grinning, I say, “Sure thing. I’ll jump in after you.” I turn my attention back to the wardrobe. “Once I find something of yours to wear that’ll fit me that is. I’ve had that dress on for the best part of two days now. I really need to get some new clothes.”
I feel him come up behind me. Wrapping his arms around my chest, he nuzzles his face into my neck.
“How about you jump in the shower with me? Then afterwards I’ll get some clothes from Scarlett for you to borrow.”
Heat sizzles through me, cranking my body temperature up by about fifty degrees, almost melting me down into a puddle. And then I feel an unexpected but familiar pang in my mouth.
Oh crap. Well, this is new.
I inhale, trying to find a trace of blood anywhere on him. Nothing but what’s under his skin.
Turning in his arms, I glance up at him, “Okay, but just a shower. And preferably a cold one.”
I kink my lip showing him a fang.
I see the look of surprise in his eyes, and oddly very quickly followed by lust.
“That ever happened before when you’ve been turned on?”
“Who said I was turned on?”
He grins, quirking his eyebrow.
“Okay, well considering this is the first time I’ve been stood naked in a man’s bedroom after about sixty orgasms and still find myself able to be turned on, then I’m gonna say – no.”
“Has it happened at all while we’ve been making love?”
He just said making love, not sex. I feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I stop the grin that licks across my face.
“Not that I’ve noticed, and I’m pretty sure I would have noticed.”
His eyes keep flicking to my mouth. But he doesn’t look nervous, he looks kind of hungry, and I don’t mean for food. He looks lusty and turned on.
“Do I need to be worried about this?”
“No.”
I don’t think he’s actually listening to me right now.
And I am worried, but I don’t tell him that. Yes, I have control, but hell, he wants me to shower with him, and Nathan and me showering together... Christ, just thinking about it is doing all kinds of crazy things to me, obviously, one of them being, bringing my fangs out for a show.
What will happen when I’m in there with him?
“I don’t know, I think, maybe we shouldn’t shower together while I’m like this. I mean I don’t know how I’ll react if I’m out of control.” I shrug. “And I feel pretty much out of control when I’m around you, especially like this.” I’m starting to flush again. “I just don’t want to end up doing something stupid … like biting you.”
“Hmm,” he murmurs, bringing his lips down to mine. “You’re probably right … we shouldn’t shower together … it’s the smart thing to do.”
He runs the tip of his tongue along the bottom of my fangs, one by one, and I almost lose all my self-control right here and now. “But then again, I never said I was smart.”
And taking me by the hand, he pulls me toward the bathroom.
Oh God, what happened to practical Nathan?
Self-control, Alex.
Self. Control.