It’s what I’d imagine a waterbed would feel like, and I’m cradled by both the gentle current and his arms.
I never want to leave.
But this can’t last forever, can it? In this fantasy world of his, he could probably find a princess or someone with considerably less baggage than I have.
Sure, we have history, but unlike me, he’s had more thanone friendover the years. It might be childish, but seeing all the pictures of them together made me ache for more history with him.
What have I missed in all these years? What would be different if I had been able to stay with him?
I frown, snuggling closer into Gil’s shoulder. If I tell him? Then I’ll be some toxic girlfriend, and considering I became his regular girlfriend about an hour ago, I can’t risk that.
“What’s going on, darlin’?” he asks.
“It’s nothing.” I tense. How does he always know when something is wrong? Maybe he can read my thoughts. Heck, it would be better than having to say this sort of thing aloud. “Like, really—you’d probably laugh at me.”
“Why would I laugh?” he asks, his golden eyes staring up at the ceiling before flicking back to me. “This ain’t about Magnus, is it?”
And suddenly, his tone is lower—almost dangerous. I can’t be certain, but I think he may be holding onto my waist a little tighter than he was before, his blunted claws protectively splayed across my midsection.
“Like I said, it’s not important,” I huff. “It’s good you have abest friendhere.”
“Marina,” he presses, his tone serious, “tell me what’s going on.”
I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. It was supposed to be teasing, a little goofy, but God damn it. “I’m jealous, alright?” I laugh, awkward and forced, because oh my God, he’sreallygoing to make me spell it out. “I’m so into you. I can’t remember the last time I had a crush this big. It’s like the emotionaltrainwreck of someone with their first boyfriend, selfish and silly. This is so stupid, I’m sorry. I’m not usually this clingy, I think… I don’t know, maybe I am.”
But Gil doesn’t roll off the bed or swim into the depths of the water. No, his eyes spark with the same amusement that danced there when he let me think Clawrece was another woman.
He’s enjoying this.
“I assure you, the title of ‘girlfriend’ comes with some perks Magnus isn’t getting.”
“Oh?” I ask, turning on my side to face him.
“Well, you see,” his hand drifts from my hip to my thigh, “I wouldn’t touch Magnus like this with a ten-foot pole.”
“Mmm,” I moan.What was I upset about again?The soft stretch of webbing tickles with each drag across my skin. Heat pools in my lower abdomen, and I manage to choke out the words. “Well, that’s a relief.”
Especially since that vampire is 100% prettier than I am.
“Besides, if anyone should be jealous, it’s me.” He chuckles, his claws tracing little circles across my skin now.
“What do you have to be jealous of?” I ask in a sharp breath. Given the placement of his hand, it’s a wonder I can say anything at all.
“Ha! My very handsome, royal best friend?” Gil asks, voice low and serious. His eyes lock on mine. “He’s got to be more of the type you’d fantasize about.” His fingers move higher and—oh my God.
“Can I be honest?” I squeak. His body and grip tense as he braces himself for critique. I can’t even begin to compare the two when it comes to my type. That vampire? Well… “Not enough scales,”I whisper.
In response, he clutches me tightly, pressing his lips hard onto mine. I break away because—how can he want to kiss me aftereverything I just said? “Wait, aren’t you mad about me getting so weird and jealous?”
“Mad?” His claws continue to trail across my skin, leaving shivers in their wake. “If you’re feeling clingy—I’m here to cling to.” He whispers, guiding my hand to his shoulder. “Besides, I wasn’t exactly on my best behavior now, was I?”
“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever dated anyone who would threaten to push someone in a lake for me,” I admit, our lips a mere millimeter apart.And it was so hot I couldn’t stand it.
“Well, they’ve all been damn fools.” His voice is rough as he places a hand behind my neck and pulls me in for another kiss. I gasp as he bites my bottom lip. My hand rests on his hip, feeling the smooth scales against my skin.
Moving down, he places a kiss on the broken skin on my neck. The urge to scratch kicks in, along with the anticipation of relief from tension and stress that will hit me as soon as my nails dig in. But Gil’s mouth has moved on, planting kisses on my collarbone until I’ve melted into a puddle.
His hand continues to move toward the center of my thigh, and the kisses continue—pointed and deliberate, as if he’s noticed everywhere I wince at when I look in the mirror, and thinks a kiss can fix it.
