Incipient: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Marked Book 6) Page 26
The sensation was almost too much, the inferno within me running so deeply that I was sure it would ignite me from the inside out. Burn me to ashes right to the ground. Trace dug his able hands into my hips and moved me, painstakingly slow at first and then a little faster as my body acclimated to having him inside me at this angle.
Leaning my chest against his, I continued to move my hips as I had done before, rolling them against him as he slipped his tongue between my lips. Nothing else existed in that moment but the two of us and the unquenchable need we had for each other. The never-ending pull of our bodies and souls.
I realized then that somewhere along the way, he had slowly and without my knowledge put me back together. Every touch of his hand had been healing. Every kiss from his lips had been patient. There was no pain in the pleasure he gave me. No darkness in the things he filled my heart with. He was the sun to my rainstorm; a promise of a better tomorrow and it only made me want for him more.
Desire flooded my veins as that familiar feeling coiled from low in my belly, snapping me back to the here and now. My skin hummed as I took in the Reaper watching me with those loving eyes of his, moving me against him like it was his mission, knowing my body like he had been born to please it.
“Come for me,” he whispered as he cupped the base of my head and pulled my mouth down to his.
And I did.
Over and over again until I could barely remember my name.
37. DANGEROUS WOMAN
The rain fell from the sky like plummeting hatchets as I met Tessa in the school parking lot the next day at lunch. Judging by the incensed look on her face when I’d climbed into her black Cadillac, the impromptu rendezvous wasn’t going to be a joyous one. She had a bone to pick and something told me it was going to be one of mine.
“What?” I asked her as I yanked the car door shut and turned to face her. “You look like someone just killed your cat.”
“So, funny thing happened,” she said with a tone that told me this wasn’t going to be funny at all. “I drive over to Gabriel’s place today after breakfast thinking we could catch up and shoot the shit together for a few hours, and low and behold, what do I find waiting for me there?”
Shit.
“Gabriel in full-on bloodlust. Gabriel who never drinks human blood. Gabriel who has never broken a single rule for as long as I’ve known him. Gabriel who—”
“Okay, I get it, Tess.”
“Do you? Do you really?” she snapped, her voice taking on a dangerous edge. “Because he’s a mess, Jemma.”
“I’m going to fix it. I have a plan. I just…haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
“You haven’t gotten around to it yet?” she repeated condescendingly, as though I’d uttered the stupidest words she’d ever heard. “Well, I’m glad to see how much you care about your Handler.”
Now it was my turn to glare at her. “Don’t even go there, Tessa. I care about Gabriel. That isn’t what I meant. I just thought I had more time to put a proper plan together.”
“More time? Based on what information?”
“Based on the fact that I saw him two days ago and he looked like he was doing better.”
“He’s obviously hiding it, Jemma. Anyone with eyes can see that.” The way she said it, she may as well have just come out and called me self-absorbed. Like she was one to talk.
“Well, forgive me for not being super perceptive after almost getting raped in the middle of a fucking forest,” I barked back at her, my voice several decibels higher than intended as a wave of nausea rolled through my stomach. “In case you haven’t noticed, my plate’s been a little full lately.”
I really didn’t want to bring up what had happened in the forest with Dominic that night. In fact, I barely allowed myself to think of it at all. But it had to be said. She needed to understand that I wasn’t in my right mind when I left the woods that night.
She blew out a breath of frustration and then glanced out the window as a small group of students rushed by the car, squeezing together under a single umbrella.
At least she’d simmered down some.
“Look, I know that this is my fault, and I’m going to fix it—”
“Just leave it alone, Jemma. You’ve done enough.”
My features pinched at her words. “You know what, Tessa? Fuck you. Fuck you and the high horse you rode in on. You have no idea what my life is like or what I’ve had to live through. You have no right to judge me. Not from the spot you’re constantly standing in on the sidelines.”
Her mouth opened to say something back to me, but nothing came out. Apparently, I’d stunned her silent. Pressing her lips together, she averted her gaze to the windshield again, thinking.
Tessa had always been able to take it just as well as she dished it out but watching her have zero response to what I had said was making me feel edgy and uncomfortable.
“Aren’t you going to say something nasty back to me?” I asked, hoping she would since I was feeling as though I had maybe been a little too harsh with my words.
“No.”
“But this is what we do, Tess. You say something horrible to me and I say something horrible back,” I said, practically begging her to insult me again.
“Yeah, but this time, I think you might be right,” she said as she turned and met my eyes again. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
Now it was my turn to be stunned. That was the closest thing to an apology I’d ever heard come out of my sister’s mouth.
“I know you didn’t mean to hurt Gabriel. I was upset and I took it out on you,” she said and then held up her hand before I got too emotional. “But I still think I should be the one to handle this. I’ll stay with him for a while and make sure he gets back on the wagon.”
“Okay…and what should I do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe just…stay away for a while?” she answered apologetically, and I knew she meant no harm by it. “It might be the best thing for him right now.”
As much as I wanted to be there to help, to undo the damage I had done, I knew she was right. At this point, my presence would probably do more harm than good. And the last thing I wanted to do was cause Gabriel any harm.
Nodding, I opened the passenger door and then paused to look back at my sister before climbing out. “Just tell him…I’m really sorry.”
After skipping my Thursday night shopping date with Carly and Morgan yesterday, I’d been forced to make a pit stop in town to pick up a Halloween costume on my way back to Trace’s. Caleb and Carly’s party was later that night and they’d made it clear, several times over, that costumes were mandatory. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much of anything left on the shelves aside from a few slasher masks, a cheerleader costume and a life-sized ketchup bottle.
There was no way in fresh hell that I was going to go anywhere dressed as a condiment, so I grabbed the cheerleader outfit and then took my walk of shame to the checkout counter.
The rain had mostly subsided by the time I made it back to Trace’s house. We’d decided earlier that we would meet at his place later since he had to make a stop at All Saints to finish up payroll. It still felt strange to think of him in that roll, but after what happened to his father, all the business responsibilities fell on him.
He was handling it well, all things considered.
Hitting the shuffle button on Trace’s iPod, I went ahead and got ready in the upstairs guest bathroom, making sure to take my sweet time applying eye liner and mascara until it was just right. After blowing out my hair and then slipping into the white and yellow cheerleader shirt with matching yellow skirt, I made my way to the downstairs living room and waited.
I was just about to turn on the television when I heard the front door slam shut, following by approaching footsteps.
“You’re late,” I said as I set the remote down on the coffee table and then stood up to greet him, except he’d come to a complete stop at the entryway. “But I forgive you.” I smiled.
I glanced down at myself and then shrugged. “It was this or a ketchup bottle. Apparently, Main Street isn’t the Halloween costumes emporium that the brochure claimed. Who would’ve guessed it?”
“You look good.” The heat in his eyes sparked into fire.
Feeling my confidence burgeon, I strutted toward him, lapping up the attention he was giving me.
“Did you do something different with your eyes?” he asked, looking down at me.
“Yeah, I put a little eyeliner on,” I said, like it was no big deal. Of course, I left out the actual number of times I had to apply and reapply the liner just to get the damn wing right. “You like it?” I asked as I lifted on my toes and plucked a kiss from his lips.
Cursing under his breath, he grabbed my wrist and then stalked into the hallway, dragging me behind. When I realized he was leading us to the staircase and not the front door, I pulled back against his hold.
“What are you doing?” I asked, examining him like he’d lost his mind.
“What does it look like? I’m taking you upstairs,” he answered huskily and then proceeded to turn for the stairs.
I pulled back again and shook my head at him. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to get my hair and makeup just right?”
His brows knitted. “Is that a trick question?”
“More time than I spent on my hair and face all week combined, that’s how long,” I said, answering my own question while ignoring his. “Plus we’re already late and you’re not even dressed.”
“I’m dressed.” He lifted his arms as he peered down at himself.
“I meant dressed in a costume. You did buy a costume for the party, right?”
“Not exactly. But I have it covered,” he quickly added upon seeing my disappointment.
Without saying anything, he sauntered back to the foyer and opened the entrance closet. After riffling around in there for a few seconds, he emerged with a Jason Vorhees hockey mask from circa god knows when.
Stretching back the elastic band, he slid the mask over his face and then cocked his head to the side.
“That’s pretty good,” I said, impressed by his impersonation.
He cocked his head to the other side and took a predatory step toward me. Even though I knew it was Trace, there was still something entirely spooky about it.
“Save it for the party,” I said as I grabbed his jacket and then lugged him out the front door.
38. LOVE IS WICKED
We arrived at Carly and Caleb’s house less than ten minutes later, though we had spotted the beaming strobe lights flashing from the property even before we entered the cul-de-sac.
“Do you think they got enough pumpkins?” mused Trace as we walked up to the sprawling mansion adored with hundreds of jack-o-lanterns that covered every square inch of the front yard. Every one of them carved to perfection and lit up from the inside with flickering candles. I’d never seen anything like it in my entire life.
“It wouldn’t be Caleb if it wasn’t over the top,” I said as I admired the red and orange spotlights crisscross over the front of the house and then followed Trace up the walkway.
Once inside, the decorations only seemed to get more elaborate. Spiderwebs and creepy cloth hung from every corner of the house as smoke machines puffed dewy fog into the rooms. There were people dancing everywhere, dressed to the nines in costumes and makeup that rivaled the pros, as music blared out from the four-foot speakers.
Trace snagged my hand as to not lose me in the shuffle and then lead us deeper into the house until we reached the kitchen. A massive cauldron sat on the island filled with red punch and plastic eyeballs floating around the surface. The kitchen lights had been changed to a rich purple as skeletons and bats hung from the ceiling. Not a single detail had been overlooked, and all I could think about was how much this must’ve cost.
“Hey! You guys made it,” shouted Caleb as he spotted us from across the room from where he had been chatting with Ben and another guy I didn’t recognize.
The two of them immediately rushed over to us with drinks in hand. Caleb, dressed as the Mad Hatter, fist-bumped Trace as Ben the Werewolf lifted me up into a bearhug. The two of them cheered and howled and then switched places and did the same exact thing. Clearly, they had sampled the punch. A few times.
“Blackburn, what’ll it be? You want some punch? Get the girl some punch!” he yelled back at no one in particular.
Laughing, I held my hand out to calm him down. “I’m good, Cale. I think I’ll skip the punch this time,” I said, remembering myself crawling on all fours in his bathroom after blowing chunks in the toilet at his last party.
“Come on, Blackburn. One drink! You have to have at least one drink with us,” he said as he turned for the cauldron and filled up two plastic cups with the voodoo juice and then handed one to me and one to Trace.
“Thanks,” I said, promising myself that I was only going to sip it. “Where are the girls?”
“I think Carly’s dancing with Morgan,” he said, swaying a little as he ticked his chin toward the fridge. I was sure he’d meant to gesture toward the living room.
I took a tiny sip from my cup and then handed it off to Trace. “I’m going to go say hi,” I informed and then lifted up on my toes to kiss him before heading off into the massive living room.
I normally didn’t have any trouble spotting either of them, especially Morgan with her fiery red hair, but the entire room was illuminated red and everyone was wearing a costume, making it almost impossible to recognize anyone.
I wandered around for about a minute or so, elbowing my way through the gyrating bodies and hordes of people making out before I heard Carly’s distinctive squeal over the music.
“You came!” she said as she skipped over to me while Morgan followed behind, taking her sweet time. “Did you see the pumpkins outside? That was totally my idea,” she beamed, bouncing on her toes proudly. She was dressed as a bunny, but not the furry onesie type you’d see a kid dressed in. It was more of the Playboy variety.
“You guys really went all out. Everything looks incredible.”
“Is Trace here too? Did you guys come together?”
“Yeah, he’s in the kitchen with your brother and Ben,” I answered and then smiled at Morgan as she finally reached us. She was dressed as Little Red Riding hood and was totally pulling off the red cape.
“I’m going to go say hi,” informed Morgan and then scampered off toward the kitchen.
So, apparently the whole besties thing was a stretch. Whatevs.
“I love your costume by the way,” said Carly, ignoring Morgan as she continued to grin excitedly. “Trace must’ve been all over you,” she said with a swoony look in her eyes. She didn’t give me a chance to respond when she grabbed my hand and started hauling me toward the center of the room. “Let’s dance!”
Feeling a little self-conscious since I didn’t have my liquid courage keeping me company, I peered up at the people around us as Carly started swinging her hips in line with the hip-hop song playing. Realizing everyone was too busy dancing and having fun with their friends to notice me, I felt my apprehension ease and joined Carly.
Four songs later, I’d forgotten there was anyone in the room with us at all. It felt so good to drop my walls and let go, to dance as though absolutely no one was watching.
But someone was watching. I could feel his eyes on me and the hum of his body the moment he entered the room. Glancing back, I met Trace’s eyes and smiled as I continued to move my body to the music. He bit down on his lip as moved along the edge of the room before settling his back against a wall, watching me through a perfect, unobstructed view.
“Gosh, I love the way he looks at you,” cooed Carly as she leaned in to whisper-yell into my ear. “I hope I find someone that looks at me like that someday.”
At her words, I looked back at Trace again
and felt my cheeks warm. His brilliant eyes were fixed on me as though I were the only person in the room.
I could live to be three hundred years and I’d never tire of the way he was looking at me.
Feeling emboldened, I stepped it up a notch, rolling my hips to the beat as I imagined myself putting on a private show just for him. Torturing him with the pop of each hip and the subtle sway of my ass. It had been so long since I let myself dance, I’d forgotten how much I loved it.
How freeing it could feel.
My arms lifted over my head as I winded my hips, slowly dropping into a couching position before making my way back up the other way. Firm hands gripped my waist, and I knew it was Trace. My body always knew when it was him.
He stepped up behind me, moving with me as I continued to roll and wind my hips, pushing back against him as he tightened his grip on me.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he said, his hot breath in my ear as he moved his body with mine.
That’s kind of the point, I answered without speaking, knowing he could hear me perfectly. Twisting around in his arms, I flattened my palms against his chest and continued dancing, smiling to myself as heat broiled in his eyes.
He managed to make it another fifteen seconds before he yanked me forward and then threw me over his shoulder like I was the Jane to his Tarzan. Laughing, I immediately threw my hand back to keep my shirt from riding up and flashing everyone at the party as Trace lugged us out of the living room and down the corridor to the downstairs washroom.
He flicked the lights on and set me down, his eyes never veering from mine as he reached back and locked the door.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, knowing full well what he was doing. It was written all over his face, from the wayward look in his eyes to the impish curve of his lips.