Katrina looked around the room and then back at him. You can hear my thoughts?
I can hear everyone’s thoughts. André smiled at the bloom in her cheeks. What are you doing here?
I’m not sure. She glanced at the broken door. Let’s blow out of here. She looked toward the window and back at him.
André tilted his head and let his eyes graze her from head to toe. He looked over at his bed and raised an eyebrow. Why? The bed’s right there.
Katrina let out a small quiet laugh.
Isn’t that why you came? To satisfy your curiosity? André pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor.
Katrina scanned his bare torso and licked her lips. A slight sweat broke out on her forehead and she drew in a deep breath. Is it hot in here?
He chuckled and tilted his head. I took my shirt off. Now it’s your turn. He leaned against the bed waiting.
I don’t know. Katrina looked at the door and bit her lower lip.
Don’t worry. I’ll hear them if they come this way. Let’s see what you’ve got.
Katrina hesitated.
André sighed and moved across the room, taking her in his arms. “Isn’t this what you want?”
“I, uh...”
“Because it’s what I’ve wanted since I first laid eyes on you.” He didn’t wait for an answer; his mouth covered hers, tasting, tongues intertwined in a dance that left him trembling and wanting more. Her skin, like silk under his fingertips, lit a fire in his abdomen and he broke the kiss, smiling down at her upturned face.
He tasted the curve of her neck, grinning when her skin broke out in a batch of goose pimples followed by a shudder, and he peeled her shirt off. With a flip of his fingers, her bra unclasped and followed the path of her shirt to the floor. He found her skirt zipper and slowly unzipped it, kissing his way down the front of her body before he slid the garment to her ankles.
Standing, he maneuvered her to the bed, covering her neck with kisses and stretched her out underneath him. With a glance in the direction of the hallway, his nightstand slid, blocking the door and reducing the chance of a surprise entrance by his folks.
You’ve done this before.
André chuckled against her throat and moved his lips to hers, kissing her, losing himself in the feel of her mouth, her skin, her body. He throbbed against the fabric of his jeans and he shifted when her hands fumbled with his belt, giving her access to undo them, the progression of the zipper sounding like a jackhammer wrapped in the frantic rush of their breath.
With a rustle of fabric, he was free of his pants, settling between her legs, his heart hammering in his chest as he gazed in her surprised eyes.
I guess you are anatomically correct.
He grinned. No one had ever complained about what he had to offer. His smile faded as he scanned her face, his gaze falling on her full lips before returning to the green eyes he dreamed of night after night. His body ached for her but she was a virgin and the seed of doubt formed. Is this what you want?
She pulled him to her lips without speaking, her mind answering him as loud as the pounding of her heart against his chest but he had to be sure this wasn’t just the heat of the moment, not just his wishful thinking.
Not with her.
He broke the kiss. “Are you sure?” he asked, reining in the lust raging through his blood.
“Yes, I’ve wanted you from the first day we met, too,” Katrina whispered and that’s all he needed.
Her jaw clamped with the first thrust, a crease appearing between her eyes as he christened her, but it soon smoothed out with each gentle circle of their hips. Heat consumed him and he sped up, each stroke sending tingling sensations through his core, and her eyes closed, her lips pressing together, turning her moan into a sensual purr that drove him mad.
When her eyes opened, they flew wide and her breath hitched, her gaze locked on his but he didn’t care; he was too far gone to worry about his eyes or the shock rippling through her.
“Katrina,” he whispered, his lips curving into a smile; the sensations overcame him and he clamped his eyes closed, shuddering. “My Katrina,” he corrected when the aftershocks subsided. He opened his eyes and looked down at her, satiated.
You’ve done this before.
André smirked and shook his head. Not quite.
I know you’re not a virgin, so what do you mean by not quite? Katrina tilted her head.
“I’ve never lost control before,” he answered.
“What are you talking about?”
I’ve never let anyone see me.
Katrina raised her eyebrow and smiled, lowering her eyes to their melded bodies and returned her gaze to his a moment later.
The real me, and you know what I’m talking about, Kat. I saw it in your face, in your mind. My eyes—they turned, didn’t they?
Katrina’s smile faded and she nodded.
You would have heard about that by now, don’t you think? He pulled off her and put his underwear and pants back on, the smile on his face faltering as his gaze shot to the door. He swiped her things off the floor and handed them to her, pushing her toward the bathroom. Shit. Bathroom, now. He moved the dresser back soundlessly as she disappeared behind the bathroom door. Jumping on the bed, he stretched out on his back, covering the small red stain on the comforter she left behind. He snapped his eyes closed.
Matthew poked his head in the room.
André made his chest rise and fall in the rhythm of sleep, praying Matthew would buy it. But his father’s gaze traveled from him to the window and he stepped inside the bedroom.
André opened his eyes. “I’ll close it later, Dad,” he said, startling his father and slowing his progress across the room.
“I got it,” Matthew said and stopped between the bed and the window. He reached down and picked up the discarded bra, looking over at André with scrunched eyebrows and parted lips. “What the hell is this?”
André sat up, refusing to move from his place on the bed. If his father saw the stain, he’d know and at this point, he just suspected some less than innocent petting. “I, uh...” André looked between the bra and his father.
Matthew’s eyes narrowed and his glance darted to the only logical place a girl could hide. He crossed to the bathroom, shooting André a warning glare. Flipping on the light, he caught Katrina frantically adjusting her skirt.
His jaw tightened and he held out the bra. “I assume this is yours,” he said.
Katrina traded a glance with André and nodded, taking the bra from Matthew’s outstretched hand.
He closed the door so she could reassemble herself and spun in André’s direction, pointing his finger at him. “You have no idea how much trouble you are in right now,” he growled. “Downstairs when she is finished. Understand?”
André nodded, avoiding Matthew’s eyes. After his father left the room, he flopped back on the bed with his heart hammering in his throat. When Katrina opened the door, he stood and grabbed his shirt off the floor and slipped it on. “Shit.”
Katrina bit her lip. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“I got you in trouble.”
“You didn’t get me in trouble, Kat. I did that all by myself,” he answered, catching a kiss before he led her downstairs where Matthew and Linda waited.
No one spoke. Neither Matthew nor Linda knew what to say and André didn’t dare utter a word with the angry thoughts going through their heads until Matthew glanced at Katrina, silently blaming her.
“It was not her fault.” André glared at his father, unconsciously stepping in front of her in a protective reflex.
“But you...she...” He trailed off.
“Blame me, not her,” André said, a little softer. “I’m the one with the experience.”
Both Matthew and Linda stared at their son, dumbfounded by the admission.
“Yeah, I’m only seventeen, but I’ve been around the block. She hasn’t.”
“How far did you go up
there?” Linda gasped.
André dropped his gaze to the floor, his cheeks flaring with heat and he stole a sideways glance at Katrina. She stared at the floor with the same guilty expression he imagined he wore. Her hands gripped his and he sighed, bringing his gaze back to Matthew’s, offering an apologetic shrug.
“Jesus Christ!”
Katrina cowered against André and tears created a glossy sheen on her eyes. “Please don’t tell my dad,” she whispered, her voice shaking.
“How did you get in?” Linda asked.
“I climbed the tree,” she admitted. “I wanted to see if he was okay.”
“And you couldn’t have done that with your clothes on?” Matthew snapped.
“I’m taking her home,” André said and started toward the door.
“The hell you are.” Matthew quickly blocked the exit path. “I called her father. He’s on his way.”
Katrina let out a muffled sob.
“Nice going, Dad.” He glared and then wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head in a gesture so sweet, it brought a fresh wave of tears from Katrina.
Matthew’s gaze bounced between André and Katrina, his thoughts racing over the brief conversation and then his eyes narrowed, locking with André’s. “How many?”
“That’s none of your business.”
Matthew took a step in his direction, reining in the need to launch at his son. His jaw tightened and he spun to the window overlooking the front yard, the fury wracking his every thought transmitting to André like a beacon in a dark storm.
André retreated, leading Katrina away from his stewing parents into the family room. He pulled her down next to him on the couch. “I think I’m grounded until I go to college,” he whispered, gleaning Matthew’s angry thoughts.
“My dad is going to kill you,” she said, wiping her face with her hands.
The doorbell rang and they traded a glance. Dread wrapped around his heart and he took her hand in his, walking toward the entry like he was navigating death row.
Commander Lawrence waited in the front hall. “Katrina Lee Lawrence,” he barked and she buried her face in André’s back, refusing to step into view of her father.
His eyes narrowed and his jaw clamped shut as he shot a deadly glare in André’s direction. “I told you once a long time ago to stay away from my daughter.”
“Sorry, sir,” André said. “I stayed away as long as I could.”
He looked at Matthew. “What happened here?”
When no one answered or met his inquisitive gaze, he knew and he turned his sights on the teenager before him, launching himself at André, his hands curled into claws, hell-bent on reaching around the boy’s throat and squeezing the life from him.
André held up his hand stopping the commander, suspending him in the leap. His bangs hung in his eyes and he stared through them, grinding his teeth against the murderous thoughts filtering through the commander’s mind. A chill skittered across his skin and memories of the hostility on his home planet raged. This man was no better than the Zyclonians who exiled him. “Tsk, tsk, you shouldn’t lose your temper like that. That’s setting a bad example,” he said, his voice toying but laced with a coldness that made everyone in the room shudder.
“André, let him go,” Matthew ordered.
André turned his hard gaze to Matthew. “Katrina and I are together. End of discussion.”
“Fucking alien,” Commander Lawrence seethed, still frozen in mid-air. “I should have locked you up the day you arrived.”
“You shouldn’t talk to your future son-in-law that way.”
“Over my dead body, you son of a bitch,” Commander Lawrence snapped back.
“Please don’t hurt my father,” Katrina said, finding her voice and breaking through the deadly layer of frustration building around André.
He softened at the shake in her voice and turned, locking his gaze with her wide eyes. Fear had exploded inside her, and he felt it. “I wouldn’t hurt him, Kat.” He lowered his hand, setting her father on his feet in the process. I didn’t mean to scare you. “Sorry,” he whispered and shrunk inside his skin. He stepped away from her, suddenly vulnerable and ashamed of his display of power.
Her father grabbed her arm and dragged her out the door without another word.
André sat down on the stairs and put his head in his hands. That last stunt of his scared her, and he wasn’t sure if he would ever see her again, never mind hold her in his arms. “You had to call her father,” he yelled from behind his hands. “You had to ruin my fucking life.” He flew up to his room.
Her scent permeated his bed sheets and he gripped his pillow in his arms, inhaling the sweet essence of her shampoo. Tears blurred his vision, brimming and cutting hot paths down his cheeks as he stared at the open window.
Linda stepped into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Her hand ran across his back and she sighed. “What are you doing, André?”
He turned his head toward her. “I don’t know,” he answered and turned his head away again.
“Can I ask a personal question?”
He nodded without looking. “I did until tonight with Kat,” he replied before she could verbally ask.
“You didn’t use protection tonight?” she clarified her question.
“No,” he answered. “We didn’t.”
“Matt doesn’t know what to do with you right now.”
“He wants to send me away.” André turned to his adoptive mother. “I don’t want to go anywhere.” He wiped the tears off his face, smearing blood over the back of his hands.
“André, for the past year you have been a completely different person.”
“Mom, I don’t want to leave Dallas,” he replied again. “Katrina is here.”
Matthew leaned against the doorjamb. “You might not have a choice.”
“What do you mean I might not have a choice?”
“Commander Lawrence may revoke our privilege to keep you here,” he answered. “He was livid, André. Livid.” Matthew turned and walked away without voicing the other thoughts rattling through his brain, thoughts of what Commander Lawrence might do, all of which encompassed unpleasant outcomes.
“Jesus,” André whispered and closed his eyes.
“Actions have consequences, honey.”
He nodded acknowledgment.
Linda stood to leave. “Despite what you may think, both your father and I care a great deal about you, no matter how angry or disappointed we are in what you have done.” She walked out and closed his door.
André looked at the open window and thought of the options his father had entertained, all of which meant never seeing Katrina again. Sending him to a military base in another section of the country wasn’t an option. No way he’d allow anyone to study him under a microscope for the rest of his life, and the alternatives were even worse.
Closing his eyes, he sighed, falling back on the only instinct he knew.
Survival.
He opened his eyes and stared at the window, contemplating his odds.
8
André went into action, packing some things in his duffel bag before he changed his mind. He clasped his watch, slid his wallet into his back pocket, and then tied his sneakers. As an afterthought, he grabbed a baseball cap and slung it into the bag before he zipped it up. He tossed the bag from his second-floor window and it hit with a solid thump. André looked back at his door with a pang of guilt and slid his legs out the window. He gripped the sill and lowered himself out, hanging his full length. Letting go, he fell the extra fifteen feet, landing solid. He grabbed his bag and hauled it over his shoulder, jogging quietly away from the house. Glancing over his shoulder, he inhaled.
“Bye,” he whispered, focusing his mind on Katrina, and headed in her direction.
André left his bag in the woods behind her house and snuck close to the foundation, unsure which room was hers.
“Katrina?” he whispered, sending the thought out to her
and waited.
A light on the second floor flipped on and André moved under the window with a quick glance at the first floor sliders a few feet to the left. He hated to think what the commander would do if he caught him in his back yard. Thoughts of shotguns and blood filled his mind and he focused back on the upstairs window and Katrina’s surprised face in the glass.
She glanced over her shoulder before pushing the window open. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m not going to let them lock me in a lab for the rest of my life, but I’m not running without you.”
Katrina bit her lip and glanced behind her again, considering his implied invitation, her thoughts rolling to their earlier transgression. She sent him a sly smile and disappeared from view.
A few minutes later, an overstuffed duffel bag dropped and he caught it, smiling up at her backlit form. Another item dropped and he snagged it from the air, her pocketbook. He set it next to the duffel bag, casting a worried glance at the kitchen sliders again.
She swung her leg out the window and reached for the rose trellis on the side of the house like she had done a million times, but this time she miscalculated the distance and lost her balance.
André’s heart lurched and he stretched his arms out. “I got you,” he whispered, willing her into his arms. She landed right into his grasp with a small oomph, her eyes wide and frantic with panic pumping in her veins. He just smiled at her and set her gently on her feet.
He glanced at the doorway again and handed her the pocketbook before slinging her bag over his shoulder. Grasping her hand, he led her into the woods where he grabbed his bag as well. “Where do you want to go?”
“I want to see New York City,” she whispered.
“That’s outside the domes, Kat.”
She smiled and nodded.
“You’re out of your mind. There’s no oxygen out there.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Katrina said. “That’s just what we’ve been told. If we go up to Chicago, we can get out of the dome through Lake Michigan.” She glanced at him as they navigated the thick woods.
Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection Page 100