AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It all goes, and it isn’t until my skin starts to blister that I peel myself from the stall and wrap a towel around my body as I walk back to my room. My hand pauses over the light switch, a prickling sensation sweeping up my spine as that familiar anti-loneliness—the kind I usually feel at the cemetery—settles around me in the dark.
“You ran.” That smooth, rich voice cuts through the air, making my toes curl involuntarily as it snakes over my body.
I swallow, squeezing a handful of wet hair in my hand. “Apparently, it’s what I do.”
Kieran’s quiet, and it makes my stomach flutter in fear. Of what, I don’t really know.
My finger moves to flip on the light, but he speaks before I do. “Stop.”
“What?”
“Stop running. It makes it harder to save you.”
A hum threads through my veins, unbidden, igniting my soul.The perfect distraction.So, instead of turning the light on or asking what he’s doing in my bed, or how he got in without Elia or my sister knowing, I let my towel drop to the floor and make my way to him in the dark.
I can only barely make out his silhouette in the moonlight spilling from the curtains; his back is against the cushioned headboard, legs outstretched, arms by his sides. His green eyes give the slightest glow, just enough for me to feel like I’m being zapped by lightning and left for dead.
It’s a bad idea, letting this dangerous man bring me comfort, but it doesn’t stop me from seeking it anyway.
He pulls back my down comforter as my knees hit the mattress, and I lay on my side, letting my wet hair soak the pillow beneath me, watching as he mimics my movements; he stands, discarding his own clothing, and slides in next to me.
For a moment, we just stare at each other from our halves of the bed, but then he’s reaching out, his strong arms encircling me, and I can’t resist the urge to burrow deeper into his skin, wishing I could just hide inside it. Bury myself alive in his body.
It’s not until I’m drifting off to sleep that I note the slightest hint of a metallic scent on his collarbone, but I’m too content to care.
Chapter 17
Kieran
Blonde hair cascades against the pink pillowcase in my peripheral vision, tickling my neck as Juliet thrashes in her sleep. A horrible habit that keeps me from ever really leaving REM, but having her next to me makes the slight insomnia worth it.
Two weeks of this weird little arrangement we have; I spend my days tracking the person who shot my father, the ones who assaulted her, and taking jobs for Stonemore and myself, and then haul myself through her window and spend the night in her bed.
I shouldn’t be allowing myself to get this close to her, especially in my former rival’s home, but there’s something magnetic about her. A pull I’m incapable of resisting that keeps me coming back.
It helps that she sleeps naked.
As she tosses again, rolling to face me and crushing a pillow against the wall, my hand slips beneath the cover and over her smooth, taut porcelain skin. My palm fits perfectly into the curve of her hip, like we’re the lost pieces of a jigsaw puzzle someone finally found and put together.
My fingers flex, nails indenting her flesh as I shift her closer to me, pulling her flush against my chest. It’s how I prefer to wake her up when seven a.m. rolls around and I leave her.
Baby blues peer up at me from behind hooded lashes, foggy from a fitful sleep, and she lets out a soft groan. “This is so weird.”
One corner of my lips quirks, a tingle working its way over my body at the feel of her warmth pressed into me. Abandoning her hip, I slide my hand down and cup the back of her thigh, hiking it up and over my waist, fitting her pelvis into mine.
What’sweirdis that we’ve been doing this for weeks, and I’ve not been inside her even once. She lets me hold her, lets me run my tongue along every inch of her sweet flesh and drive her wild with my fingers, but anything beyond just doesn’t happen. My mother would tell me to be patient, that she’s been through a traumatic experience and needs to trust me before she can allow herself to be vulnerable again, but it’s notherthat stops us.
It’s me.
Paranoia rages through my heart and mind like a white rapid, and I’ve suddenly forgotten how to swim against the current. I can’t stop thinking about that day at my cottage and the night at The Bar together as if they’re one singular moment in time and not separate incidents.
Can’t stop imagining the grubby hands of a cock-sucking pervert molding themselves to her skin each time I remember how glorious it felt to be inside her, and it kills me. Renews the violent rage stamped on the hole where my soul used to be, and reminds me of my lot in life.
Protector. Avenger.
Murderer.
Juliet presses her nose into the dip of my collarbone, and I feel her tongue dart out and swipe up as she shifts her hips, making every nerve ending in my body combust. “You’re broody this morning.”
