Why is this so difficult? He needs to feed, and I magically heal. Get a grip!
I clear my throat. “You need blood to survive… and I’m… offering to be your source.” I square my shoulders and lift my chin, ready to make my case. “I’m willing, so you won’t have to charm me to forget, and with my magic, you won’t have to worry about hurting me. You can take what you need guilt-free.” I pause, the last part of my argument strangely stuck in my throat. “Th... that way who you’re with romantically is your choice, not because it’s the means to survive.”
His gaze drops to my neck then back up again. In a slow sultry tone, he purrs, “What makes you think I don’t enjoy the arrangement I have now? If I wanted only one source, I could choose to feed from one person.”
What he says surprises me, and my nervousness burns up in my stomach, replaced with annoyance. “Bullshit. I bet $1,000 bucks there’s a reason you haven’t stuck to one person.”
An amused thought flashes across my mind, once again recalling I can actually make good on that.My life is so weird.
“Yeah, I don’t do relationships,” he replies flippantly, shifting into a pose that screams ‘I couldn’t care less’, and it’s not nearly as amusing when it’s pointed at me.
I can’t figure out why he’s being this way, until I remember Connor also told me Nolan doesn’t like feeding from his friends and avoids it if at all possible. Sighing, I move closer and put my hand on top of his. There’s a subtle tremble that resonates from him into me.
“Nolan, you don’t have to protect me. You’re not taking; I’m offering,” I insist, ducking my head so he has to look me in the eye. “If you want to sleep with the entire school, that’s your business. But it will be because you want to, not because you have to.”
He makes a face at the ‘entire school’ remark, but doesn’t comment--or deny it.
After what feels like hours, but could only be a few seconds, he releases a shuddering breath. “You don’t know what you’re offering.”
“I do. And it’s my choice,” I assure, all my uncertainty gone.
All pretense falls away, and he stares at me with an open hunger I haven’t seen before.
Oh Nolan. Are you always starving and have been hiding it from us the whole time?
Like my fingers have minds of their own, they reach up and gently touch his cheek. “What do you need me to do?”
His eyes flutter closed for a moment, and I can feel another tremor ricochet through him. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “I… go sit on the couch for me, please.”
I nod and do what he asks. In an attempt not to fidget more, I trap my hands between my knees.
He walks over to the front of the couch and looks at me for a long moment. He has his left arm crossed over his chest and his right hand pressed against his lips, like he’s trying to figure out what to do.
I guess his normal methods might not work so well.A blush I can’t control burns across my cheeks.
Finally, he seems to come to a decision and pulls his white, V-neck shirt up over his head and hands it to me. “Put that on over your shirt. Should help keep blood from getting on your clothes. Your wrists are small, so I think your neck is probably best.”
Somehow my blush spreads, while I feel like all the blood has drained from my head. First Donovan is half naked in the gym, and now Nolan is standing in front of me with the well-toned body of a swimmer on full display.
Oh, he has a birthmark on his hip. That’s... interesting. And there’s that tattoo on his upper right arm again. Should really ask about that… later.My hormones are on high alert, and I feel like my brain might be melting.My friends seriously need to be uglier. And I’m buying them all giant, baggy sweaters for Christmas that I’ll insist they wear at all times.
Quickly, I put the shirt on, desperately hoping that my reaction to him is more internal and not painted all over my face. It smells of the spicy black pepper of his cologne and engine grease. I resist the urge to bury my nose in it.
He sits down next to me, the leather creaking with his weight. After a few false starts of him leaning his head at different angles, he sighs. “Okay, so the easiest way would probably be you sitting on my lap--” He clears his throat. “Straddling me, preferably.”
There’s that free fall sensation again, but I vowed I wasn’t going to make this awkward for him and I won’t. Trying my best for nonchalance, I nod then move so my knees are on either side of his jean clad thighs. Butterflies take flight inside me, because this feels a whole lot different than when I normally sit on one of the guys’ laps.
“Are you sure?” he asks, looking into my eyes while his hands rest on my hips.
With more bravado than I’m feeling, I give him a ‘please stop asking dumb questions’ face, and answer, “Yes, I’m sure. It’s fine. Really.”
“Okay,” he breathes, once again looking at my neck. “Okay.”
Nolan pulls me down, so I’m sitting instead of hovering over him. Now, I’m just above eye level with him, and I can feel the heat radiating off his skin.
Suddenly, I feel like I’m sweltering under my layers of clothes.
He brushes my hair back, and with a feather light touch, runs his fingers down my neck. Dancing shivers follow in their wake and spread throughout my body. Despite my wish to remain casual about the whole thing, I can’t seem to stop shaking.
