The Separation Trilogy Box Set: Books 1 -3

by Felisha Antonette

  I turn, facing him. “And why not?” My gaze dances over his body before meeting his eyes.

  “Why do you think?” he questions, gaze soft and compassionate.

  “I don’t know,” I utter, sitting. I’m slowed by the feeling of affection, the all-consuming passion I feel for this boy that draws feelings from me I never felt, that I never knew I possessed until him. Feelings that I still don’t understand.

  “You know,” he insists. “You told me first.”

  I scoot back, and he leans forward. I’m lying back on his bed, contemplating, “What have I said first.”

  “Affection.”

  I look away from him to the ceiling, mumbling, “You… Love me?”

  “Me saving you over my brother, ignoring my better judgment, knowing you work for the enemy, not letting you fall into a pit of Zombies by risking my life to save yours… Didn’t that say enough without me actually using the words?”

  I study his eyes, their lightness, the softness of his gaze. “I love you.”

  “I know,” he says, leaning in to kiss me.

  I move back across the bed so my feet aren’t on the edge when I bend my knees at his sides. Saying it confidently makes my feelings make sense. It’s like admitting it brings these feelings reason and now they can calm down and not overreact and keep me nervous or jealous or angry or expecting the worst.

  I touch his back, distracted for a second by his scars.

  His touch is more confident. He no longer pauses before meeting his targets. His graze moves over my curves and under my shirt before it comes off. We move too quickly. Our kisses are eager, and our touches are aggressive. He moves against me. I’m expecting it and accepting of it, I want to feel it…him. I’m hoping he’ll do it, kiss and touch me in places I’ll allow no one else to.

  Marc removes my bra, exposing me to his eyes, hands, and his tongue and lips. I bite my cheek, quietly sighing through my nose. “Talk to me, Ky,” he requests. “Tell me what you feel. Tell me how you feel.” He grabs my hands, pushing them over my head.

  I cannot explain what I feel, but whatever it is, I feel it everywhere. I grasp onto his hands, moving my fingers between his, holding him tightly as they shake.

  He kisses me after covering different areas of my upper body. I arch my body against him and release a soft sigh against his mouth.

  “I can’t hear you, Ky.”

  “I feel…” He slides down, kissing my stomach, hands slipping from mine. As his fingertips slide over my arms, I sense them in other places he’s not made it to yet. “You’re touching me everywhere all at once,” I whisper, my voice breathy.

  “What does it feel like?”

  “Smooth. Electric.” I gasp for the air being sucked out of his room. “It’s suffocating but refreshing.”

  “What does it make you feel like?”

  I breathe deep. Pressure is building in my chest, compressing my lungs, pushing me to the verge of hyperventilating. “I don’t know, I can’t explain it.”

  “Good?” He kisses my navel. “Bad?” He gently takes my breasts in both hands, mildly caressing them.

  “Good.” Amazing.

  He dips to my abdomen, but I feel him kissing me somewhere else.

  “Now?” he questions.

  I breathe deep again. My legs tremble. My hands shake as I push them over the bundle of sheets under me. “I’m excited, nervous. It feels nice,” I whisper through deep breaths. “You’re kissing my stomach, but I feel you other places, and it makes my legs shake.”

  “Where do you feel me?”

  Oh God, I can’t say it. I clutch the sheets tightly in my fingers as he dips a little further down.

  “Here?” he firmly presses his lips against me, over the waistband of my tight-fitting sweats.

  I breathe out through my mouth. My nails dig into my hands through the sheets, as I clench my fists tightly against the pleasure.

  “No?”

  His body dipping further down spreads my legs wider. His shoulders brush my thighs. “Tell me, Ky.”

  No, no, I can’t tell you.

  “Here…”

  Pleasure stabs me in the back, causing my middle to rise then fall against his bed. A sigh erupts from my throat as I fall back against the mattress.

  He lies against me, chest to chest. “Shh, Ky,” he says in my ear. Breathing heavily, I nod. His bare chest is pressed to mine. My body is a pack of jitters, tremors constantly scattering just beneath my flesh. My hands are shaking so badly, I can’t control it.

  I like it…I love it.

  I kiss his lips. I don’t know what to do with this pressure he built in me. It’s an odd adrenaline that makes me want to be aggressive. I try to suppress it, try to push it down with deep breaths, but they increase the pressure, heightening my excitement.

  Marc’s thumb slips under my waistband and eases my pants downward. Slowly, I lift. He stops. “You―”

  I hurry to cut him off. “I wouldn’t,” I say, knowing where he was going. “Just close enough to not fall over.”

  He draws back. “I would, so I’ll stop.”

  I cover my chest with my arms. It’s suddenly cold. “Wait. I don’t want you to stop, but I don’t want you to go that far.”

  “I can’t.” I have to move my arms to pull him back, and I don’t want to do that with my chest bare. It feels different just exposing myself than him exposing me.

  I lie back, looking at the ceiling. I’m not ready to go that far. “Close enough…?” I suggest, not wanting to stop this. Not yet. Whatever he just did to me was like bait. And though I’m not ready to get caught and have him reel me in, I want to keep nibbling.

  His hands glide over my stomach to the band of my sweats. I breathe deep, grabbing my shoulders as I slowly lift when his fingertips slide along the band to my hips. He pulls down my pants as a couple of his fingers slide down my legs after them, then over my feet.

  The last garment of clothing on me is my panties. I plan on leaving those on, and my nerves are going crazy from being this raw and open.

  He hovers over me, still clothed. “Can you uncover down to your last too?” I’d be more comfortable if he did.

  “You might not like that,” he states.

  “Why?”

  He moves back with a smirk stealing his serious look. “I’ll show you.” He drops his pants and comes back over me. “Don’t run away.”

  “Why would―” I’m cut off, jabbed by, well... I quickly back away, no longer concerned with exposing myself. “What is that?” I ask, shocked and high pitched.

  “Shh. What do you think?” he snorts, pursing his lips.

  “Oh.” Right… “Um,” I just made this awkward. “Don’t do that like that.”

  He shrugs slowly. “It’s going to feel the same either way.”

  “Why?”

  He smiles, revealing his teeth. “Because Ky, it’s supposed to go in you, not against you.”

  Oohh…Right…Um…I’m not ready for that. “I’m being weird about this.”

  “You asked me to take them off, and I warned you.”

  “Okay, are you going to put them back on?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope.” And he leans in to kiss me, but I’m not…poked again.

  I smile against his lips and push my hands through his hair. It falls between my fingers as I seize it. As I pull him closer, he wraps an arm around my back and holds me against him.

  Time slows again, and my legs and hands shake, wanting more. What more could I want? How much more can he give me? My legs wrap around each of his thighs, and I slowly pull him to me. Or he might just be moving slowly.

  Someone knocks on his door.

  “Oh, no.”

  It’s Luke. I just know it’s Luke, and if he had a cow because of Cory and me only kissing, I’m pretty sure he is going to shit a blue whale if he sees me like this…and Marc like that.

  “Put your clothes on,” Marc whispers, getting up and pulling his pants on. He asks, “W
ho is it?” as he looks for a shirt. I search the bed for my things.

  “Luke,” Luke says, causing me to search faster.

  I get on my bra and look for my shirt. Marc throws me my pants as he says, “What?” He points behind me, showing me where my shirt is.

  I nod as I slide on my pants and then slip on my shirt as Luke asks, “Is Kylie in there?” I see a shirt lying across Marc’s rack. I snatch it off and throw it to him.

  Marc coughs to stall as I climb back onto his bed without making a noise. “Yeah,” he finally answers. He opens the door, and I shut my eyes, playing possum. “She’s asleep. Everything okay?”

  Luke must have awoken and seen I wasn’t there. So my big brother needed to check on me and knows if I’m not with him, I’m in here. “What, Luke?” I whisper.

  “Checking where you were.”

  “I’m here,” I say, opening my eyes into slits.

  Leaning against the wall, Marc mouths, “He is going to kill us.” I laugh, turning into his pillow to smother it.

  “Be gone before everyone wakes up, Ky. And don’t enjoy yourself with my sister, Marc.”

  “Bye, Luke,” I say dismissively, lifting my head from the pillow so I can see him leave. Marc closes the door and sits on the bed. “You’re scared of my brother?”

  “No.” He smiles. “I was joking.”

  I lean up, grabbing his shirt to pull him to me. “I like it when you smile.”

  He leans back on his elbow and scoots up on the bed. “You make me smile.” He smirks brightly, warming my heart. “You and all your alien mojo.”

  I lean away from him when he gets extremely close. “I don’t have mojo.”

  He lies down on his back, asking, “What is it, smoke?”

  I pinch my nose, thinking. “It’s more like dust.”

  “Let me see,” he says, buzzing with interest.

  “See what?” I sit up on my elbow, surveying him.

  Nodding, his hand gestures in a circle, pointing at me. “What you look like,” he states in an obvious tone.

  “I look no different. They’re just a part of my DNA. My mouth may glow a little when I activate the glittering particles, but my appearance doesn’t change.” I shrug as I continue, “I was born a Creation. Not a Vojin.”

  “Let me see you release some glittering particles.”

  I lie down and clear my throat. There’s no harm as long as it doesn’t escape the room. I move my hands into a cuff over my mouth and extended out about ten inches. I look at him. “Don’t go ballistic when my mouth glows blue and green. It looks off, not normal.”

  “I won’t,” he says casually.

  I turn back, facing the ceiling, and from my chest, I blow. Shortly, the particles start tickling my throat, and they escape, brushing past my lips. I see the glow reflect off my hands before they start filling with the fusing blue and green particles.

  Momentarily, I stare at them circling slowly in my hands, wanting to be set free. “I hate it,” I say out loud, although I only meant to think it.

  “Now what are you going to do with it?” Marc asks.

  “I wish I could shoot it. I wish I could shoot all of them.” I bring my hand close to my mouth and suck in the particles until they’re gone.

  I want to cough from the tickle, but instead I roughly clear my throat.

  Marc pushes his arm behind me and pulls me closer. “How is it you’re infused with them? How did they infuse you?”

  “Okay, so this part of your throat,” I touch where his trachea is, “Ours are lined with this coating. It’s their coating. When we were children, they stuck this tube down our throats, and stabbed us with a lot of miniature needles throughout that area, pushing this disgusting kind of organism that was about two inches in length, thin with legs or tentacles. It was the color of the dust stuff, like the particles they’re fused with. They call it our implant. They inserted a piece of them within us.” I want to tell him the entire truth about Luke’s and my implants, but I stop myself. I hate that I’m still a part of them. I don’t want to have any of them in me.

  Marc pokes the skin beneath my right ear where a scar from years ago still feels raw. “You’ve got this scar here, does that have something to do with them too?”

  I wince at the mention of it. This scar isn’t a secret I’m prepared to reveal, so I change the subject. “They want to control us and it’s something I don’t want to be associated with.” I lay my head on his shoulder and Marc looks down at me through his lashes.

  “You hate them because they lied to you?”

  “No, I don’t care about them lying. It’s because they killed my mother and father. It’s because I don’t understand what they are trying to prove.”

  “Hmm.” He pauses and then asks, “But you will continue to put in work for them?”

  “Not at all. We’re against them, and apparently, we’re not the only ones.” I sit up.

  “What is it?” he asks, pushing back my hair that has fallen around my face.

  “This may all be over soon, our world and our way of living.”

  He turns down the corners of his mouth, questioning me.

  I adjust so my arms are propped on his chest. “I’ll tell you. But don’t judge me because of it. It’s not my reason, and you can’t say anything.”

  He rubs his hands over my shoulders and slides them to my elbows. “If I wanted to say something, you would be dead.”

  I nod and say, “They want to destroy the world, and after they destroy it, they want to reconstruct it. Starting with four. When I was talking to Cory a couple of months ago, he used their words after I asked if he thought the wars would ever end. He didn’t respond in the way a Creation would; he said the world would be a better place after it’s destroyed and reconstructed.”

  “Reconstructed?” Marc questions.

  “The general heard him and asked the same question. We told Luke, and he had the same response.”

  Marc’s brows knit. “But the general doesn’t treat him any different if he knows.”

  “Exactly.” I sit up. “So one group of the outsiders has a plan of destruction, and another group has a plan to stop them.” I take his hands. “Like we wouldn’t want this, our planet destroyed…Some of them don’t either. They want us to help stop them.”

  He sits up, and I sit on his legs. “Us, like you all, or us, like Creations?”

  “Us, like Creations and humans, who do not want th―our planet destroyed.” I move away from him, feeling uneasy about not being able to positively claim this planet. “I don’t know what they want us to do. And even if I did, I don’t know if I could do it.”

  “Okay, so are you and others supposed to make us go with you or something?”

  “Yes. Convince you to side with them. Before, it was for their domination, and now, it’s to reserve our planet and fight against the ones that want to destroy it.”

  “That’s not going to happen, Ky. I’ll never side with the Vojin.”

  “I know, Marc. Could I convince you to fight with me? To side with me and fight against them?”

  He’s silent as he lies beside me, looking up at the ceiling. “I wouldn’t. I don’t believe them.”

  “But you believe me?”

  Hesitantly, he says, “Yes.”

  “If instead, I ask you to help me destroy them and save our home, will you?”

  “If that were possible…yes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The horn blares this morning, louder than usual. I’m still in Marc’s bed, snuggled up against him. He scoots off the bed. “I’ll leave first, with everyone.” Cracking his neck, he stretches his arms, adding, “Luke will probably come get you once the hall clears.”

  I rub my eyes and stretch my arms over my head. “Cool.”

  Marc puts a knee on his bed and leans over. He kisses me once. “Stay with you?”

  I nod. “And let me stay with you.”

  He nods and leaves his room. I release a heavy exhale, ac
cepting our confirming seal that we’re together now. No more back and forth or avoidance. He loves me. He hasn’t said it, but he does. Smiling to myself, I lie back on his bed, throwing his pillow over my red turning face to hide my oversized, girlish grin.

  His door opens. “Come on, Ky.” Luke pulls on my leg, quickly letting it go.

  “Okay.”

  The roads are full of buses with the last of the Creations returning. A large, all white SUV is parked out front of the general’s office. Maybe someone from the Guidance or the Premier making an appearance. “Why are they here?” I ask Luke.

  “Don’t know.” Sir Jord’s office door opens. “But I have a feeling we are about to find out. Let’s smile for the people who don’t give a shit about us,” he quickly whispers.

  Luke and I stop, watching two well-built, adult Creations stomp out of the office. With their shoulders straight and chests pushed out, they stand tall, wearing no facial blocking or headgear. One has medium-length hair, and the other is bald, but they resemble one another.

  A woman dressed in a dark brown suit exits Jord’s office. Her straight black hair hangs loosely around her shoulders. A man with jeans and a buttoned black shirt isn’t far behind her. The two of them stand there on the porch, surveying the base as they exchange words. After she nods, they walk forward, and an older man walks from the office, hunched at the back, heels dragging. The wind tousles his thin gray hair, and a salt and pepper beard spots his chin and cheeks. He wears a black suit and shiny black shoes that are sprinkled with dust from the dirt roads.

  The general comes out after him, hands on his hips, expression stoic. Jord looks our direction and waves us over.

  “You were right,” I say to Luke as we head over.

  Jord extends his arms as Luke and I approach. “Lukahn, Kylie, meet Premier Norman Stelloh and the leaders of the Guidance, Richard Majewski, and Arletta Fett.”

  They salute as we do, dropping our hands after the Premier has. “We hear you two came in and obtained leader positions rather quickly, a reflection of your general and his twin.” Arletta says, admiring us with a smile, hands clasped in front of her belt buckle. Her nose is straight, and her sharp gray eyes make her expression daunting. “What an honor,” she adds. Her eyelids, smoothed with deep red eyeshadow, blink over her eyes as her gaze sweeps from one side of our line to the other. Her smile widens. The red lipstick flawlessly spread across her lips brightens her perfect smile, but a tiny twitch in the right corner of her mouth draws a falter to her beauty.