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Remembering he hadn’t pushed her, she grimaced and pulled back. “You’re right. Sorry. You feel bad for abandoning your friend. I get it.”
He nodded solemnly. “Mayhap I would have grown into a better man… my father was a decent man. Instead I became an immortal and death changed me. I grew up fast.”
Avery nodded, understanding perfectly. “It has a tendency to do that to a person.”
Their gazes caught and her heart sped up. She felt that flush of heat all over.
Worse… she didn’t feel alone anymore.
It’s Gonna Cost You but
You Might Hurt Less
I feel like I’m fighting what I want because of what my world expects from me. My friends would call him creepy stalker guy; Aunt Caroline would say he was too old for me guy; pop culture would say he’s the devil guy; and the person I was five days ago would call him a blackmailing, ruthless son-of-a-bitch guy. And I guess that last part is still kind of true. But I’m not so sure about the other stuff. If he really is that guy that my world describes, shouldn’t I be deterred? Shouldn’t I want to run in the opposite direction? Shouldn’t I be terrified of him? Because I’m not. I’ve never felt safer. I’ve never felt more like a person who isn’t scared to make my own choices… and that in itself scares the crap out of – if that even makes sense.
Last night we took a walk around the estate. I let him hold me. Kiss me. I kissed him back. My lips gave to him what they never gave to Josh. I don’t even feel guilty for that. But I’m scared. Did I say that already? I wasn’t scared last night. Last night we lay on his incredibly comfortable bed… and we talked. I spoke about my mom and dad, which I never do. The kind of people they were. The way they lived. Loved. He told me about eternity. What he’d seen and done. He’s not perfect. He’s made choices maybe some people wouldn’t have but at the same time I don’t think I’ve met a man with more heart. He’s kind of hard to hate. Too easy to lov-
We held hands last night. I woke up entangled in him.
Have you ever had moments of absolute peace? Like nothing can touch you? Only moments, they never last long… but when they do it’s this sense of lightness of being; like you’re so relieved to be happy you kind of cry. Do you ever notice how you cry when you’re angry, frustrated, scared or happy? I rarely cry when I’m sad. I don’t know where that misconception came from. Sadness isn’t hot tears. It’s cold. Numb. Hard.
He’s out; checking things are OK with his spirits. See, I should totally be creeped out.
When he’s gone I lose my battle with my doubts. I’m doubting. Would Caroline really want me give up my life for hers?
She would be so mad if I did…
“Hey, what are you doing?” Brennus strolled into the bedroom, bringing the scent of fresh air and grass with him.
Avery slammed the diary shut. Having mentioned that she was having journal withdrawals, Brennus had promptly produced one for her.
“Writing,” she replied softly, tucking the journal behind her back.
He smirked, throwing her a look. “I’m not going to sneak a peek at your diary like some pre-pubescent girl.”
She snorted, not really picturing Brennus doing anything so undignified. “I guess you wouldn’t.”
Smiling at her, he shrugged off his coat, dropping it lazily onto an armchair. She knew by the change in his body language that his attention was entirely focused on her. As he strolled towards her languidly, Avery felt her breath hitch at his approach. The bed shifted under his weight as he braced his hands on either side of her and leaned down for a kiss. She inhaled his musk, her eyes locked on his, her mouth already falling open. Her hands reached up to clutch at his chest and her heart sped at the feel of his breath across her face. Her skin tingled. His lips brushed across hers softly, one stroke, two. Playful. Teasing. Excruciating. She tried to catch them but he kept drawing back, laughing softly under his breath. Without thought Avery took his face in her hands, cupping his jaw tight. He stiffened, his eyes flaring a little with apprehension. She hadn’t touched his face before. Gulping back anxiety, Avery struggled to breathe normally. She swore she could hear his heart fluttering like a mouse caught between the paws of the neighbour’s cat. Her own picked up pace in response. Tentatively, afraid he’d be angry but needing to do it nonetheless, she trailed the fingertips of her right hand up across his cheek, running over the haggard lines of his scar. He flinched but her hold brook no argument. She followed the lines of his scar over his cheek, nose, his forehead. Brennus’ eyes fluttered closed and he leaned into her touch. Pain flared up her arm shooting for the direction of her heart. She hated the man who had done this to him. But more than that, Avery hated the fact she’d recoiled from him because of it.
This man was more beautiful than she’d ever be.
Trembling now, Avery leaned up and pressed the sweetest kiss to his cheek, to his scar. Brennus shuddered against her, his arms wrapping around her waist and drawing her close. Not finished, she peppered fairy kisses to his wound, trailing them down in a magical course of acceptance to his happy ending mouth, where she pressed a kiss of such… longing. He groaned harshly and kissed her back, hard. Avery clung on as he deepened the kiss, his tongue searching hers, needy and wanting; his arms binding her tight, his hands gripping her skin so hard he almost left bruises. A heat, this unimaginable flush, charged through her and she felt that tug in her lower body that Sarah had told her all about. The tug, the heat she had never felt with any guy; the tug and heat she’d been jealous of as Sarah expounded upon her night of passion with some French guy during the school’s business trip to Paris. But now she was feeling it; that fever, that need. She almost smiled in exhilaration against Brennus’ mouth. Finally, she was feeling all grown up.
Any further thoughts were obliterated when Brennus reached for the hem of her t-shirt. Even his fingers brushing against her bare skin sent these sparks shooting out of her nerve endings. Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head. Feeling drugged, Avery let him pull the shirt over her head, barely allowing a second of separation before she was pressed back up against him, his hands running up and down her back frenziedly, as if trying to find a way inside.
“Sir!”
They broke apart abruptly, Avery’s eyes flying to the door. Thankfully Ames was nowhere to be seen.
“What is it, Ames?” Brennus snapped into the room at large.
“I apologise, sir, but you have a visitor.”
They tried to catch their breath. Brennus groaned and leaned his forehead on Avery’s shoulder, his hand making circles on her naked back.
“I’ll be there in a minute.” He sighed and Avery realised he was using that telecom system thing. Ames was probably downstairs somewhere.
