Plight: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 1)

by Felisha Antonette

  Lathering me in hankered kisses, creeping over my neck, he descends. As he does, the buttons of my shirt pop on their own, exposing my shivering skin button by button. His warm breaths are a counter-reaction to the cold air dancing over me. It eases my pebbled flesh just before it rises again.

  Nathan scoots me up toward the door of the truck as he kisses lower, awakening my nerves with curious excitement. Kisses trail to my navel. The button of my jeans pops open, and I gasp.

  “That was an accident,” he mutters against my abdomen. On his rise, he pecks my lips.

  “Accident? Uh huh, sure,” I say and follow with another kiss.

  “Better than your dream?”

  “Much. Nice scenery too.” The moonlight, seeping through the truck, strokes his face at all the best angles.

  He looks down at me, and then at my opened shirt. He closes it over and sits up. “I intended to use this time to talk. Not make out with you.”

  “No,” I say, grabbing his shoulders and sitting up with him. “Don’t stop.” I settle on his lap. “I’m not ready for it to be over.”

  He meets my eyes and leans forward, falling into my sea of seduction. My, what I meant to be, innocent kiss becomes deep and aggressive, demanding his tongue sweep over mine. With a hand wrapped around the back of his neck and the other fiddling with the hem of his shirt, I drift, getting lost in our embrace.

  I drip kisses past his cheek and onto his neck, giving into my drunken love. His breathing deepens, and his hands slide over my back down to my butt. He’s touchy, cupping my breast, firmly grabbing me with just enough force to still be gentle. Before I know it, he’s sliding his tongue over me and his mouth’s replacing my bra. He cares for the other, and I tilt my head back, looking at the headliner of the truck, accepting the pleasure his mouth brings to my subtle skin.

  I close my eyes and heighten my senses, experiencing a sensation I never have before. His caresses intensify and draw from me eager breaths I try to soften. Aggression surges when he grabs my waist and our lips meet again. I shift my hips and am met by his hardness nudging my center, forcing a sigh to break me as I’m racked with a shivers.

  Nathan’s eyes shoot open, glowing a hypnotizing ocean-blue. Pushing me toward his knees, he utters, “Stop, Tracey.”

  “Go, Nathan,” I whisper back, already knowing where he’s going with this. “Don’t stop.”

  “Tracey…”

  I grumble, leaning against the steering wheel poking my back. He always has to mess up the good moments.

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Well, don’t. I trust you. I’m not going anywhere, and you’re not going anywhere. Right?”

  He nods. “Right.”

  I shrug. “Then. . . You know. . .”

  “Calm down.” He pecks my lips and moves me to sit back on the seat, strapping on my seatbelt. He did that just to keep me from attacking him, I bet. He leans up, laughing. “We need to go, the temptation’s too strong. You want to come back here tomorrow and watch the sunset?”

  I thread my fingers through my hair, combing it from my face. “Yes. That sounds nice.”

  “There’s a spot a little farther down where we can set up and layout in front of the water.”

  “I think I’d enjoy that,” I say, over the urge to attack him.

  “Good.” He starts the truck, adding, “Fix your shirt.”

  I follow Nathan through his home. I glide my hand along the smooth wooden stair rail, sure to keep my steps on the runner lining the stairs. The wood floor is the shiniest I’ve ever seen, and I’d hate to dirty it after someone has put so much effort into keeping it polished. Scents of citrus fill my nose down each corner we turn, and not a spot is dark as soft, well-planted hall lamps light our path.

  Nathan stuffs his phone in his pocket, never allowing it to go ignored for too long. His flawless amble draws attention to the way his strong shoulders move in sync with his steps, a smooth movement that pulls attraction from anyone watching. I avert my gaze back to the cream and navy runner. Is he really this attractive, or is the mating making him irresistible?

  The sexual tension building from our mating is overbearing and pointless to fight. My future is with Nathan, and I want to take advantage of our dreams and desires to experience everything with him.

  “Like what?” Nathan asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What are you trying to experience with me?”

  I roll my eyes. “Peeking again, I see. Why do you play this game with me?” I ask as he’s opening the door to his bedroom.

  “I need to hear you say it.”

  His room’s more of a master suite than the normal-sized bedroom I expected. Charcoal gray colored walls, accented by white borders, fit the dark color scheme of his bedding and furniture. A bed, a couple of nightstands, desk, and television stand fill the space. I push the dark brown wood door closed and cross the floor to him. “Nathan, forever is in my future with you. Just as real as my heart beats in your chest, the sense of our future is in mine.”

  He looks down at me, even expression causing me to read his steady brown eyes. “Tracey, what are you saying?”

  “It is weird to have such powerful feelings for you so early after meeting you. But I’m connected and meant to be with you, so I won’t fight them.”

  He takes me by my neck, lifting me to my tiptoes, and his kiss falls on my lips. “We won’t go that far. But I have something else for you.” Slipping his hands beneath my butt, he lifts me and carries me to his bed. “Don’t speak,” he instructs. “Just breathe.” His nimble fingers clasp the top button of my shirt, and he lifts an inquisitive brow. I nod, giving him permission to undo it. Button by button, he unclasps them and slips my shirt from my arms. His index and middle fingers push against my chest, and I lay back on his bed, holding my breath.

  “Remember to breathe deep and slow,” he advises, unclasping the button of my jeans. “Do you mind?”

  I exhale, shaking my head.

  My jeans pull off with ease.

  Nathan flicks his wrist with instruction for me to scoot up the bed. He kneels on the floor beside me, scanning the comforters and pillows. Seeming to locate his target, he reaches across me, plucking something from the bed and brings it before my eyes.

  A feather. No bigger than the top of his thumb.

  He releases it, and it floats, swaying through the air until it lands on my body with the weight and heat of an obsidian stone, just beneath the line of my bra.

  I breathe slowly, as he instructed, and deeply as I am nervous.

  Nathan puckers his lips and cool air blows past them. The feather skates down my torso and my breaths quicken as my skin twitches, responding to the feather’s sharp touch and the bite of his cold air. I all but sigh as my body shudders when it glides over my thighs. I groan, back arching, lip biting, hands clutching the sheets as the sensation grows more fervent the more areas the feather meets while it explores every inch of me.

  “Your skin has ten to twenty thousand nerve endings,” Nathan says as the feather moves on its own. It skis back up to my breast and slower than slowly skims the skin where the edge of the fabric stops. “This makes even the slightest touch, especially when your body’s senses are heightened, intensify. And, takes sex off the table as the only option for pleasure. Close your eyes and ride the high. I’ll do the rest.”

  acquainted

  I stretch my arms over my head, an ear-to-ear smile plastered on my face.

  Nathan’s gone, as he is every morning. I fall asleep beside him but never wake up next to him. It doesn’t bother me too much, but I take notice of his absence.

  “Nathan?”

  Good morning, beautiful, he responds in my mind. I put clothes in the bathroom for you, along with two towels. A new toothbrush is sitting on the sink, and the toothpaste is in the drawer. Let me know when you’re finished, and I’ll get you and bring you to the kitchen. I’m making you breakfast.


  Breakfast? You cook? I think to him.

  Yes.

  Gosh. I don’t know, Nathan. I may be a little inadequate for you.

  Nah, you’re perfect. Hurry up. I’m almost finished.

  I climb out of the warmth from his bed and cross the floor to the open door on my right where I see a sink. Above the tub, there’s one knob for hot and cold, but another two knobs beneath it. I try one, and the shower-head on the ceiling comes on. Quickly turning it off, I try the other, and the one mounted on the gray stonewall spits out hot water. I adjust the water and jump in, making the shower quick.

  The clothes sit on a double vanity sink. Nathan got my sizes right down to my socks. I dress, liking his choice in attire: skinny black jeans, I like my soup cold T-shirt, and black socks with silver stars.

  Someone knocks on the bedroom door.

  I finish sliding on the new sneakers left by the bed and cross the room to it. “Yes?” I sing.

  “You ready?”

  “Yeah. Do you have a bag I can put my clothes in?”

  “No, just leave them on the floor. Pailen will get them.”

  I rip open the door. “Who is Pailen?” And why am I comfortable with her touching my undies?

  “Our housekeeper. She cleans and washes the clothes, and I want you to have something over here, just in case.”

  “That’s why you went shopping and bought me this stuff?” I point to my outfit.

  “Yes.” He pulls at a strand of my hair that has fallen from my messy bun. “You look cute with your hair messy,” he compliments and kisses my forehead. “Come on, and leave the door open so Pailen knows I need her to go in there.”

  I do, and I follow him on a hike to the kitchen. My arms swing at my sides as I walk on cloud nine. The only thing I need to make this morning even better is something to eat, and if his food is delicious, nothing can mess up my day.

  “It will be,” he assures.

  “I believe you. Where’s your mom?”

  “She and my father went to a relatives’s house to clue in the rest of the family on what’s going on.”

  “What’s going on?” I ask, shrugging.

  “Scott and Glen. I told them about the way Scott’s been acting and it raised red flags. They had a family meeting to discuss it.”

  “You didn’t want to go?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I would have to bring you and everybody would steal you away from me.” He pulls me around a corner to a kitchen that has to be the size of my entire house. “It’s not that big, Tracey.”

  “Nathan, this kitchen is huge.” The smell of bacon fills my nose, and my stomach rumbles.

  “Someone’s hungry.”

  I chuckle. “I guess so.”

  We sit around a six-seater island facing the kitchen sink. A west facing bay window over the sink overlooks the backyard and farther behind that is a lake. In the distance are the mountains and glow from the ten a.m. sun. “Whoa, this is your view every morning?” I ask, unable to take my eyes off it.

  As Nathan’s passing the sink, he looks out the window. “Mostly.” He sets down plates piled with a delicious, well-balanced breakfast.

  We eat, discussing where he got his amazing culinary talent. “Your mom, she taught you how to cook?” I ask as he pours his mother’s homemade syrup over my pancakes.

  “Yes, she did. Just in case,” he says, then drinks from his orange juice.

  “In case of what?” I ask before stuffing my fork full of eggs in my mouth.

  He drops his gaze and finishes his mixed grits and scrambled eggs. His mood’s changed; it’s clear not just from it shifting in my own, but his eyes darken and he doesn’t look back at me. I roll my shoulders. It’s weird, experiencing someone else’s emotional state and the affect it has on mine. I won’t force him to answer. We each have subjects that make us uncomfortable. “Well, you do know how to cook. This breakfast is delicious.”

  “Thank you,” he says and gulps down the rest of his juice. “You have me all to yourself today. What do you want to do?”

  “Watch the sunset,” I say as I stare out the window at the water, remembering he’d said we would.

  “That’s on the list, but later.” He looks behind him at the clock over the stove. “It’s still early.”

  “Can we walk and talk more about you?”

  Brown eyes with a glimpse of hazel meet mine. “Yeah, we can do that. You finished eating?”

  “Yes, thank you.” I grab my orange juice, finishing it. He waits until I do and then takes my plate and glass with him to the sink. I follow him, take the dish he’s rinsing, and run it under the water before passing it back to him. He seems out of sorts, and his mellow mood concerns me. “You okay?”

  He looks down at me from the corner of his eyes, taking another dish I hand him. “Yes, beautiful. Don’t worry about me.” He sets the clean dishes on the drying rack and passes me a towel.

  “Um, I don’t know. I think I want to.”

  “You ready to go?”

  I fold the hand towel and place it on the counter. “Yeah,” I answer, plotting on figuring out his mood.

  resent

  Behind Nathan’s house and past the tall, wood picket fence is a beach at one side and a forest on the other. Sand’s mixed in with the grass on the path we stroll, far enough from the lake. At its end, we follow a trail that leads through the trees. The forest has swallowed us whole, and Mother Nature has made it the most beautiful of sites with its thick trees and colorful flowers.

  “All right, Tracey.” Nathan moves behind me and wraps an arm around my chest. “Bury me in your questions.”

  An ear-to-ear smile spreads across my face. “What you did last night, have you done that to anyone else before?”

  His throaty chuckle vibrates his chest. “No. Next question?”

  I move to his side, keeping his hand in mine. “Your eyes, they change colors based on your moods, right?”

  “Yeah, most of the time.” He stuffs his free hand in his pocket. “When they don’t, it means we’re not in control of it. I let you see my eyes change because I’m comfortable with you and you won’t freak out when they do. But if I weren’t, you would only see them brown.”

  “That’s your natural eye color?”

  “No. That’s my color of choice.” His pace slows as his mood shifts again.

  “Okay, then what is?”

  “Dark blue and gray.”

  I wince and try to cover it by stretching my back. Eyes like that should be appealing, but when I saw them on Scott, they scared me. Letting that settle, I move on to why I’m bringing this up. “When we kiss, they turn a bright ocean-blue, and I can see a sand-like brown circle behind it.” I pause. “It’s actually hypnotizing. Very beautiful.”

  “Really?” He looks down at me from the corner of his eye again.

  “Yes.” I grin. “And what mood would that be?”

  “Hmm. I’ve never seen my eyes change that color. I can sense it when they change, but I thought they were changing to a green and brown around you. I didn’t know that color existed.”

  “They turn that color too, but when we’re all over each other, they turn hypnotizing.”

  He smirks. “They could be hypnotizing you, making you all freakish.”

  I punch him. Although, he may be right, considering he told me I could get drunk off of him. I’ve actually felt myself getting intoxicated and unable to control that desire. “You might be right.” I shrug a shoulder.

  He looks ahead of us, strolling peacefully at my side. “I have to make a mental note to look for that.”

  “No other girl has ever seen that color?”

  “No girl other than you has ever seen my eyes change period,” he states in a tone.

  “So how many girls have you been with?” The question that’s been on my mind since our conversation the night we first talked, and Scott’s opinion of him when he’d found out Nathan helped with my car
.

  Nathan tenses up. “Why are you asking me that?”

  I don’t understand his discomfort. “You know how many guys I’ve been with. I don’t see the harm in the question.”

  “There is no harm. It was before me. As long as whatever the number is doesn’t increase after me, I’m okay with that.” He takes a minute, studying my unfazed expression. Squinting, he flicks his gaze away from me. “A few.”

  “So three?” He shakes his head. “Five?” The corners of his mouth turn down as he shakes his head again. “Am I hot or cold?”

  “Cold,” he says in a smooth, low voice.

  Cold? “Okay, north or south?”

  “North.”

  “Ten.”

  “Far North.”

  I huff in frustration. “Most guys are happy to talk about how many girls they’ve been with.”

  “Not when it comes down to telling the last girl they’ll be with,” he states, glancing at me and then away.

  I crinkle my nose. “Well, it won’t change how I feel, or what I think.”

  “It might.”

  “Well, tell me, and we’ll see.”

  “Uh.” He stalls, and I grumble. “More than fifty, less than two hundred . . . or so.”

  Wow, that’s a big number. The real answer is he doesn’t know. “Okay.” I clear my throat and rub the back of my neck.

  “Okay?” he questions wryly.

  I shrug again. “Do you want me to make a big deal out of your slutty past, or will you just accept the okay?” I ask, laughing.

  He chuckles, but the amassment doesn’t reflect in his face. “I’ll accept the okay.”

  I bump his side with my elbow. “What’s got you down in the dumps today?”

  He takes in a deep breath and slowly releases it, saying, “There’s just a lot going on.”

  I squeeze his hand a little. “You want to talk about it?”

  “No, but let’s continue with the Q and A.”

  “Fine.” I think of something to fill the silence as we continue along the trail through the woods. “Why is your house so big?”