Ares’s hands go to the counter on either side of my hips as he leans his body into mine, pushing me against the counter. Dipping his head, his lips are barely touching the apple of my cheek and his nose traces along my temple and hairline.
“This Cara… this never ending pull that makes me want to carve a hole in my chest so I can carry you there.” His words should frighten me, and if I’m honest they do, but not the way it should. I feel the slight pressure of his lips as he plants a tiny kiss right next to my ear. A shiver works its way over my skin, making the hair on my arms stand. “Are you okay?” Ares’s question forces me to examine whether or not I am. His nose runs down my cheek, stopping at the corner of my jaw. “Cara, tell me if this is okay?” His words vibrate over his lips and onto my neck.
“Are you allowed, I mean is it okay? I don’t know what rules there are—”
Ares stops my babbling when he lightly brings his lips to mine. He doesn’t move, just presses them on mine gently. I think he’s giving me time to adjust, or to push him away. My lips part as a weighty sigh escapes and my muscles go slack. It’s only him and the counter behind me, keeping me upright.
Ares groans, his hands reaching up for my neck as he moves his lips against mine for the first time. “My brothers will kill me, but I don’t care. I can’t help myself.” I feel the tip of his tongue roll over my bottom lip. I mimic the movement on instinct, my tongue tracing the same path as his. How can it feel so different when he does it? I must lick my lips a hundred times a day, but it has never felt like that. Ares pulls back, resting his forehead on mine. Our noses brushing together as I pant, and he nuzzles me.
“The others, they’ll be mad?” My fingers circle his wrists as I let my hands glide up his forearms, stopping when I reach the cuff of his shirt. I tease the smooth skin there, letting my fingertips delve under the fabric to his inner elbow before I drag my nails back down softly. I hear Ares swallow a gulp.
“Definitely,” he purrs. My eyelids low, I see his lips just inches from mine. I want to know what it would feel like to have him really kiss me. Lifting my chin, I bring our mouths closer together resting my lips on his. With the very tip of my tongue I trace just under his top lip. Ares’s hands tighten on my neck, almost to the point of pain, before he releases and flows his fingers over my shoulders and down to my waist. Gripping me, he lifts me so my butt is on the tiny kitchen counter. My arms go over his shoulders as he parts my legs, stepping even closer.
Ares angles his head low, his nose nudging my collarbone. My head falls back, allowing him better access as he runs the tip of his tongue up the column of my throat. “Oh hell,” I moan huskily when his teeth nip my jaw line. His fingers tremble as his palm finds my cheek. His forehead meets mine again, and I let out a huff of disappointment.
Rocking back and forth across my brow he mutters under his breath, too low for me to hear. It’s like he’s working himself up to it, and that thought splashes cold reality over me. My hands go from pulling toward me to pushing him away. Ares leans away, his eyes fully black and his mouth parted as he searches my face. Whatever he sees there has him stepping back, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Forgive me Cara, I was lost in the moment.” His words are formal and stiff. I hop down from the counter, my fingers covering my lips.
“It was me, I’m sorry. You don’t have to… I don’t want to make you feel like… I’m sorry this bond is so different. I feel different than I ever…” Heat rises from my chest and up my neck, landing on my cheeks. Ares takes a step toward me with his arm outstretched, but I spin in the other direction, heading to the curtained off area that makes up my room.
Dropping to my bed I bend forward, burrowing my face in my knees. What was I thinking? He told me it was wrong, that the others would be mad, but I still wanted it. Still do, if the quiver in my stomach and the tremor in my hands are telling me anything.
Sitting upright, I tell myself it’s no big deal. Girls probably throw themselves at him all the time; he’s probably kissed tons of them. I feel an actual pain in my chest when I imagine him doing just that. Shaking away the image, I run my hands over my thighs a few times. I’m not even really sure why he brought me here—to grab my stuff?
A few moments pass before I hear and feel his steps as he nears my room. He’s hesitant, walking slowly. Not meeting my eyes, he tells my, “The guys called, are you about finished up?”
Taking my cues from him I stand, feeling awkward about the moment we shared. “What should I bring?”
He looks around my room and the corners of his eyes crinkle when he winces. “Anything you want to ke—” He stops mid sentence. “Have for a while?” His voice lifts at the end, telling me he’s not sure himself. “And the picture,” he adds, sounding much surer of himself. “Don’t forget the picture.”
Twenty One
Walking in the same side door we used yesterday, I toe off my sneakers. The house smells divine with the aroma of roasted meat filling the air. Ares is a step behind me and his palm meets my back when I don’t step out of the little room immediately. He guides me down the hall, past a few doors, and into the kitchen.
The rest of the guys are all seated at an island facing the stove. Each of their heads turn in our direction. Tangling my fingers together I wait, feeling unsure of where to go, or what to say.
Ollie hops out of his chair with a wide grin on his face. He rushes toward me, not stopping until I’m wrapped in his arms. Mine hang limply at my sides, completely taken aback by his greeting, I freeze. He pulls back but his hands are still on my arms as he peers down at me. “Hungry?” I nod remembering the lasagna in the car. “Good, come eat.” Not releasing me, Ollie tows me to the island, pulling out the seat he vacated and gesturing for me to sit.
What will they think about how Ollie is treating me? I glance around without really looking at anyone. “My food’s in the car.”
“I got it,” Ares replies, turning to leave without another word.
“How was Maggie’s, busy?” Milo leans past Dante, his arms folded on the table, an empty bowl pushed away from him.
“Pretty steady. What… what have you guys been up to?” I try for casual. Hoping to find out why they weren’t in school today. That’s a normal question right? Something a friend would ask?
“Dante had to work on some yearbook stuff, and Milo had football.” Ollie rolls his eyes. “I’ve been Ares’s bitch all day.” He leans his hip on the counter, his eyes on me expectantly.
Ares returns, nudging his way between Ollie and me. He sets the bag on the counter, removing the boxes inside. I scoot my stool a little closer to Dante, giving him more room. He opens each box, peering inside before finding what he’s looking for. Ares turns, boxes still in hand, and moves over near the dishwasher.
“That smells like lasagna,” Milo perks up, watching Ares move about the kitchen. My eyes track him too. He opens a cupboard and grabs a dish, then pulls open a drawer, placing a fork and knife on the edge of the plate. The room is silent as Ares moves to the fridge with a tall glass in hand. “Milk?” he calls out, spinning to face me. His brow furrows when he finds us all staring at him.
“Me?” I squeak when I realize he’s asking me if I want milk. My nose wrinkles. “Nooo. The only milk I drink is chocolate.”
“What would like?”
I lick my lips, the others are still silent. “Water is fine. Thank you,” I add at the end softly. When Ares’s back turns to us again, Ollie mouths the words what the fuck, his eyes huge.
Pushing his way between Dante and me this time, Ares presents my lasagna and bread on a fine white plate, along with a tall glass of ice water. He watches me, his eyes running over my features, stopping on my lips.
“Thank you.” My voice comes out small, no one has served me or taken the time to make sure I eat in ages. Years ago, when my mom wasn’t so withdrawn, she would make us little dinners, but I took over that duty by the time I was eight. Ares turns to move and I reach out for his arm, stopping him in pla
ce. Meeting his eyes, I tell him, “No really. Thank you.” He leans down and places a gentle kiss on my temple, then he’s gone.
“Who was that?” Milo whispers once Ares has been gone a few seconds.
Feeling defensive, maybe even protective, I mumble, “I think it was very thoughtful.” I tug the plate closer while picking up the fork and knife, slicing into the thick layers of meat, cheese, and pasta. I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips as the first bite melts in my mouth.
Ollie clears his throat. “Remember to feed her,” he says, like he’s making a list of how to care for an animal. I want to glare at him, but my food is way too good for me to be bothered at the moment by his antics.
The guys start up quiet conversations around me, not really talking about anything important, just little things about school or their schedules. My eyes grow heavy as my belly fills, the fact that it also coincides with Ollie finding a way or reason the touch me almost the entire time isn’t lost on me, but I’m choosing to ignore it. I feel a closeness to him that I haven’t yet explored, but he feels safe in way that Ares never would.
Pushing my plate away still half-full, I let my palm cradle my cheek. My eyes land on Milo as he explains something to Dante, both of his hands move as he demonstrates some maneuver. His eyes are lit with interest, his words rushed with an edge of excitement. I like seeing this animated side of him, he’s been so moody and serious the past week so I never know what’s up or down with him. Milo bumps his shoulder into Dante, grinning about whatever he’s telling him. His smile is contagious. I grin, wondering what he’s like on the football field.
Dante’s head nods while he listens to his friend and my gaze is drawn to the wide leather cuff on his wrist. The black lines barely visible from beneath intrigue me. With Ollie’s heat pressed to my side, I lift my free hand up and the tip of my nail traces the outline on Dante’s wrist.
Dante’s head snaps around in my direction. His body going rigid, I freeze. It seems I’m having a hard time controlling my impulses as of late. Biting my lip, my eyes rise to meet his. “Can I see this?” Dante swallows, his eyes going a little wide. I snatch my hand back. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I feel like I need to see it. Do you know what I mean? It’s okay, I won’t ask again.”
I begin stepping down from the stool, but just as my feet touch the floor Dante places his arm behind me, cutting off my exit. “You can see it Laura, I just wasn’t expecting that. It’s okay, really.”
Feeling like I’ve violated some unwritten rule, I place my hand over his, which is working the leather strap free from the closure. “Seriously, you don’t need to if it’s private, like your girlfriend’s name or something. I didn’t mean to intrude on your personal life.” I run my hand over my braid, pulling away from him. “I was just curious. I noticed it in art class a while ago, that’s all.”
“It is private, but not from you. It’s my identifier.” The band falls free from his wrist into his other hand and I get my first glimpse of the entire mark. My hand reaches out immediately to run along the edges, I stop just short of touching him. My eyes leap to his, the question of whether nor not I can dies on my lips when he extends his arm out to me. A look of anticipation on his face.
“Most marks are easily concealed, like ours,” Milo offers, coming to stand on the other side of Dante. He eyes are glue to where my fingers hover over Dante’s wrist. What felt like a compulsion now feels like I’ve put us both on the spot with the brush of Ollie against my back and the way Milo seems so interested.
My mouth suddenly dry, I lick my lips, letting my fingers brush over the mark. It’s smaller than Ares’s, but no less riveting. His skin is smooth, but I swear I get that same feeling of velvety fur under my fingers. Dante’s shoulders roll as his head goes back, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. I step closer, invading his space, and I want to run my nose up his neck and bury my face in his hair.
My fingers circle his wrist, not willing to release him, as my head falls to his chest with my ear over his heart. A rumbling flows from him, almost sounding like a low growl.
The clicking of heeled shoes echoes from an adjacent room. Ollie pulls me back from Dante, and my hand around his wrist is the last part of me to let go. Ollie steps away from me, going over to the fridge and pulling out a can of soda. I wrap my arms over my stomach; it’s obvious they don’t want whoever is coming to know what just happened. Dante turns from me, fumbling to replace the bracelet.
The same brunette from yesterday morning enters the room, the rhythm of her steps falter as she spots me. “Hello again.” Her eyes are shrewd as she looks me over.
Still standing I shuffle my feet. “Hello.” My voice is barely a whisper.
“We haven’t been introduced, I’m Mia.” She extends her hand out to me after making her way over.
Reaching out I take a hold of her hand, giving her a quick firm jerk of a handshake. Her eyes trace between mine as she inspects my features. “How long have you known the boys?” The barely there lilting accents softens her words.
“Not long.” I glance over at Dante and Milo, both of whom are facing away from me, not giving me any indication on how I should respond.
“You must be pretty close, you were here… yesterday afternoon, right?” Her question seems innocent, but I can feel the probing nature.
Ollie interrupts before I have to answer. He wraps his arm over Mia’s shoulder, much like he’s done to me several times, pulling her attention to him. “Ares hasn’t let you leave yet. He’s had you here all day.”
A sour taste fills my mouth. I want to disappear from this room, more importantly, from hearing this conversation. A small smile lifts Mia’s lips at the mention of Ares. “What can I say, he’s lost without me.”
“I’m going to take Laura home,” Dante throws out conversationally.
Mia shifts so I’m back in her direct line of sight, but her eyes land on Dante. “I just left Ares’ room, he said you guys had plans this evening.” She delivers like a subtle reminder.
Dante straightens. “Yeah she needed a ride home from the diner. I promised Maggie we’d help out driving her home since she doesn’t have a car. Ares knows I won’t be long.” My lips tighten into a hard line. I’ve been firmly placed in the same category as the help and I’m an unnecessary obligation to a family friend.
Mia tilts her head, looking at nothing in particular. “I haven’t seen Maggie in ages. Will you tell her I said hi? I’ll stop in and see her when Ares gives me a second to breath.” Her words are filled with exasperation, but her face tells me she loves every second of being needed.
“Sure,” I mutter, wondering why they even brought me here if they were just going to take me back home an hour later.
“Later Mia.” Dante waves over his shoulder, and I follow along behind him expecting to head toward the mudroom where my shoes are. Instead, he trails through the house until I’m in a familiar open hallway. Ares’s door lies closed a few feet in front of Dante. He raps on the door quickly before opening it and looking behind him to make sure no one is around.
He pushes the door open and ushers me inside, closing the door behind us. There’s a dim light coming from a lamp by beside the bed. The textured gray walls seem to absorb more of the light than the small fixture throws off. Most of the room is cast in shadows, hinting at what might lie just out of sight.
I cross my arms over my stomach. “Why am I here?” I can’t keep the contempt from my voice.
Dante’s voice is pitched low when he answers, like he thinks someone might overhear him. “I’ll have to leave for a little bit. I don’t have another excuse for why you’d still be with me when I come back.”
“Then don’t make one.”
Dante looks around, his hands raised in question. “Don’t make an excuse? Then why else would you be with me?”
His words shatter the anger I was feeling, leaving behind only the painful reminder I still don’t belong. Shrinking in on myself I mutter, “Wow, that’s h
arsh.”
The lines in Dante’s brow deepen, his eyes jumping around. “What? Never mind, we can talk about this later, just wait here. Someone will come for you in a little while.”
Realizing his intent to leave me here I jump into action, grabbing his arm as he turns back for the door. “Wait.” Now I’m whispering. “What if she comes back in here and sees me?”
“In Ares room? She would never look for you here.”
“I didn’t say she would be looking for me.” My hands go to my hips and I glare at him.
Dante shakes his head. “You don’t have to worry about that. Ares must have sent her out for the night, or she never would have been in the kitchen.” Pulling his phone from his front pocket Dante checks the screen. “But it’s late, she just got back to town so she’s probably staying here until they get her sorted.”
I clench my teeth, jealousy warring with anger. “That’s what I’m talking about. I don’t want her to find me in Ares’s room.”
“Laura, she won’t come back here tonight. Ares wouldn’t allow it.” Now I’m the one confused. “Just go sit on the,” he looks around the sparsely appointed room, “bed or something. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He’s gone before I have another chance to object. “Jerk,” I mutter to the closed door. Throwing my hands wide and my head back at the ceiling in exasperation, I fight the urge to scream at the frustration coursing through my veins. I spin instead, looking for something I can throw against the wall. The bed is the only real furnishing in the room, even the lamps on either side of the bed are built right into the wall, so I stalk over to the bed and snatch a heavy feather filled pillow and launch it at the wall of curtains on the opposite side of the room. It thunks to the floor before reaching its destination. I growl then stomp over to pick it up, squeezing it in both hands I bury my face in the dense fluffiness and let out the scream I so desperately need to free.
“What has you all riled up gattino?” Ares’s low voice startles me enough I let loose a real scream. My body wilts, exhausted by the constant upheaval of emotions. One look at my face and he’s walking over, a slight frown marring his features. “What’s wrong?” Ares’s eyes search mine, and I roll my lips to keep the words I want to say from escaping. If they hide me away now, what will they think if they know how much I crave touching them? How I can’t even be in a room with them without wanting to have them surrounding me? And it’s not just one of them. I want all of them in the same way. It’s harder to hide when it comes to Ares, because everything about him screams sensual. It’s like his eyes are begging me to touch him right now.
Infinity Chronicles Book One: A Paranormal Reverse Harem Series Page 21