Dison: Immortal Forsaken Series #2 (Paranormal Romance Novella)
Page 12
In awe of her, he opened his mouth, but shook his head, gulping his reply.
“This is a bizarre conversation. Why do I feel like I can be so candid with you?” she asked.
Why did he feel like he could listen to her for hours? He shrugged. “The honesty between strangers, I suppose.”
She drew a shy smile, fingers still at her mouth, gaze averted.
It’d been that long since anyone kissed those lips? What a waste. From what he could tell, they were made for a thousand kisses, naturally tinted red and just the right volume of plump.
So she longed to taste passion? Feel a man’s hands on her? Clearly—whether or not she’d admit it—Gaelen craved sex. And she was making him crave it, too. Something that hadn’t occurred in a long time. Like any man, he loved sex, but he didn’t pine for it. Until now. He restlessly tapped his foot, denying the desire growing inside, resisting it. He had to stop staring at her, first of all.
“So what do you do for a living?” she asked, unaware of his intensifying need to feed off her sensa until she was moaning from the high, wet between her thighs, and under his spell.
He gripped the edge of the crate, forcing back the urge. “Why do you want to know?”
“Curious. You have a variable look about you. A bit broodish. Like an artist, maybe a painter? But you’re built like a quarterback so that doesn’t seem quite right. You carry yourself with a certain swagger, so I could also picture you doing something that requires confidence, like a motivational speaker.” She cocked her head, studying him. “Dark hair, green eyes, perfect teeth, the ideal height. Handsome. And your style. Designer leather jacket lined with a hooded sweatshirt. You’re a model aren’t you?”
He laughed at that one. “Definitely not.”
“Am I even close?”
“Prepared to be underwhelmed, Gaelen. I inherited a lot of money, and I’m smart with investments, so I don’t really have to work right now.” Since his father was gone, he was in charge of the finances, properties, and maintaining relationships with their many allies. It was exhausting, tedious, and boring as fuck.
Her delicate brows rose. “Must be nice not having to work.”
“It isn’t. It’s a dull existence.”
“Oh? Well, you’re fairly young. Plenty of time to decide what to do for a career. You can’t be older than, what? Thirty?”
He resisted the urge to smirk. Two-hundred-and-six to be exact. However, his maturation age was his third decade plus four years, so she technically wasn’t wrong. “I feel a lot older.”
She laughed. A musical little sound he enjoyed as much as her speaking voice. “Count your blessings.”
“How old are you?” he asked, scooting a little closer to her, unable to resist.
“Twenty-seven.”
He was ancient compared to her and felt so very dark next to this creature of light. She had a glow about her, and when she smiled, the whole night around her brightened. That kind of attribute shone in those who loved life, who were easily amused, and who savored every little wonder about it. “What about you? Do you still work?”
She sighed, shoving her hands between her knees. “No. Kind of impossible to when you’re coughing up blood and getting nosebleeds at any given minute. It’s gross. People find it hard to be around someone with a near-future expiration date. My mere presence depresses my friends. They try not to show it but, they can’t help it.”
“Well, your presence doesn’t depress me.”
That made her smile. “Thanks. Unfortunately, my disease is a huge hindrance for a chef. Blood and veggies just don’t mix. Even if they’re both organic,” she joked.
He chuckled. “A chef?” He glanced at her hands, lovely long fingers ideal for pinching spices and kneading dough.
Slowly, he reached for her left hand, giving her every opportunity to deny him. But she didn’t. He tenderly laid his palm over it.
A zing shot from his arm to his heart, startling him, and drawing a gasp from her.
He lifted his gaze to hers, mesmerized by their haunting, sad depths. He turned her palm up, intertwining their fingers. Now that felt good, connecting to her like this. Real touch that had nothing to do with lust.
“You’re so warm,” she murmured.
Strange of her to say; there was nothing warm about a vampire’s temperature to a human’s. Maybe she was just that cold.
An odd ringing began in his ears. He could hear her pulse, her jugular pumping with her lifeblood. His teeth were throbbing to lengthen and pierce her flesh, drink her. He flinched. Get a grip. She’s not for the taking. “You shouldn’t be out here, Gaelen. You’re freezing.”
She closed her eyes and smiled. A breeze hit and sent those wisps of hair prancing. “I like to feel the cold.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing back the ache mounting inside him. “It…it isn’t good for you to be out here. You should go back inside. Where it’s safe and warm.” And where you cannot tempt me.
Her eyes opened and met his, brows lowering. “You can’t say what’s good or bad for me,” she told him, taking her hand out of his. “I have enough people telling me what to do, how to live. If you’re going to be here with me, then don’t tell me what I already know.” She rose and walked toward the ledge where they’d originally met.
His heart lurched for upsetting her. Now that she wasn’t near him, he yearned for her to come back. He caught up with her, wishing her hand was still in his. This is insanity. The emotions and physical reactions were not making sense. Even so, he couldn’t walk away.
“Gaelen. I’m sorry.” At a loss, he stood there, unable to leave her alone, though a part of him knew he should.
“Don’t you just love New York?” she asked after a while.
He briefly closed his eyes at the lovely, breathy sound of her voice again. He was quickly falling in love with it. “Yes.”
“Me, too. It’s got everything. Always changes, but at its core, stays the same.”
He wholeheartedly agreed. “Not every city has a heartbeat, or pulses with its history and culture, but New York City does. And always will, I suspect. Even after living in so many places, I find myself back here.”
“You speak as though you’ve lived a lifetime.”
“I have, more than you’d ever believe.”
She turned to him. “Fitz. You just made me realize what I want to hear now. I want to hear all about your life. Unless you have to be somewhere?”
He didn’t. It was still a couple hours away before the group met up with him on this same rooftop. He’d make sure she was out of sight before that happened. He smiled and crossed his arms, happy to grant her wish. “What do you want to hear about?”
“Everything.”
“That could take days.”
“You have that many stories?”
“Let’s narrow it down. Pick a continent.”
“A continent?” she exclaimed.
A soft bang from the metal door startled them both.
He narrowed his eyes at the disruption. “Someone’s coming.”
“We should hide.” She rushed around the other side of the access door. He followed her in a much less rushed pace, squatting beside her.
When she looked up at him, Fitz winked, putting one finger up to his lips.
She let out a little giggle, then covered her mouth.
A flashlight moved around, the steps of whoever had come up were slow and staggering. A guard just doing his rounds. If he discovered them, Fitz had the mind to pick Gaelen up and leap to another rooftop so they could resume their conversation.
But then again, if he did that, he’d reveal his extraordinary ability, which would scare the shit out of her and end their night together. For the moment, he had to keep up the human act. Scooting closer, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they continued to hide.
When the metal door slammed closed, she looked at him, relieved. “Do you think he’s gone for good?”
Their faces were so
close, he caught a scent. Sterile, clinical soap, and something unique to her. The ache persisted. He barely moved his mouth, feeling the sharp edges of his canines on his tongue. “I think we’re safe.”
She fixated on his mouth. So close, he felt her sweet breath on his lips. “Fitzgerald. Who are you?”
A man who wants you more than you know. He got to his feet, held out his hand, and she took it. Gods, how he longed to wrap his arms around her and really embrace her. But he couldn’t. The desire lingered and if he didn’t stop touching her, things would go too far. He had no business seducing a female human tonight, least of all a dying one.
Yet, he yearned to do something special for her. Something he shouldn’t.
It was against vampiric law. It was a notion he rarely indulged. Most of all, it was dangerous, but, like she said, he liked a little danger now and then. He took a few big steps back, his hand slipping out of hers. “I want to show you something.”
Immortal Forsaken Series #4
Rhemy
Coming August 2018
About the Author
I’m more than just a romance writer:
Follow me around Vegas and beyond via
Instagram
Or if you just wanna like me:
Like me long time on
Facebook
And if you’re about that life:
Twitter me this, Twitter me that at
Twitter
Website:
verikasloane.com