Sinless (Deadly Omen Book 1)

by Jenica Saren

  Her cheeks flushed with pink and I knew I was right. "It's not my place to talk about..." She mumbled, staring intently at a stain on the white tiled floor.

  "Oh bull." I scolded. "Spill. I live here and deserve to know what mess I just got myself into."

  "They're... Not normal."

  "No shit, Sherlock."

  She finally turned to look at me, glaring at me with those big, innocent eyes of her. Translation: it wasn't even a little scary. "I mean, they're not like physically normal. Like, human and stuff." She finally said.

  Not human? How could they not be human? Then again, those muscles certainly weren't worldly. I mean, damn. I'd give up all my Louboutins just to catch a glimpse of a towel falling off and revealing a nice, hard-

  "Girl talk, I presume?" Eliam drawled as he strolled into the kitchen, looking down at us plopped on the floor with a plate full of crumbs between us. "Love, your sister is waiting outside." He told Drea with a tight smile.

  My friend frowned harder than I'd ever seen a person frown. "We'll talk later, okay? I've gotta go..." She hesitated, eyes flashing with hurt. "Home." She finally said through clenched teeth. She gave me a tiny peck on the forehead and scurried out the door, blowing Eliam a kiss on her way.

  Eliam propped his hip up against the counter and stared down at me, his mouth quirked up in a lopsided, smile. "How's the back?" He asked casually.

  "It's fine, actually. When I don't move." I admitted. Boy, did that one hurt my ego.

  His smile didn't waver as he moved to pick up the plate from the floor and put it in the sink. He turned back around to look at me and crossed his arms over his chest in what was becoming his signature pose. "Want to go back up to your room?" He asked politely. Where was this civility coming from? He'd been so hostile and aloof toward me just a few days earlier. What changed while I was dead - no pun intended - to the world?

  I shook my head and smiled my thanks. "No, I've been there for five days. And honestly, those stairs are probably going to haunt my nightmares for the next few decades." I joked, hoping that this newfound lightness would last a little longer. "I'd kill for a shower right about now, though."

  He stared at me, unblinking, with a wry smile. "Delightful choice of words you've chosen there." He said sardonically.

  "I'm nothing if not an optimist." I replied cheerily.

  Eliam shook his head and offered me his hand, but I vehemently refused. "Nope. The whole moving thing, remember?"

  He shot me a grin that offered nothing but mischief and just as promptly, he blanked. What did that even mean? Did I even want to know? I so didn't want to know, not when Eliam of all people had that look on his face. It was something akin to the look of a cat who's owner just bought a new canary. That canary was about to get eaten, and I personally wasn't down for being the canary. "Fine." He said, the line becoming a trademark staple for any conversation we ever had.

  "Fine? What do you me-" I squealed loudly as he reached down and plucked me from my seat on the floor like I was nothing more than an errant pencil that had made its way to the ground. "What are you doing?" I tried to yell. It came out more like a breathy whisper, because my heart was suddenly pounding in my ears and it wasn't from fear.

  I analyzed his features and my racing heart almost stopped. I had noted what a beautiful man he was from the first time I had seen him, but my distaste for him from his initial introduction had blinded me. His jaw was angular and sharp, giving him a very authoritative appearance, and his lips were full and completely free of dryness. I wondered briefly if they would feel as soft as they looked. And his eyes would never fail to baffle me, their rich purple hue noticeable from even a fair distance, so expressive, and full of something dark that said he was an old soul. What I wouldn't give to have those eyes staring... Right back at me. No really, he was staring at me.

  His mouth kicked up into that cocky fucking smile again and I quickly looked at the collar of his shirt. That's what I'd been looking at, if he asked. "Something you like?" He teased. Teased! I wanted to keep this side of the moody, rude Brit.

  "I like your shirt. Excellent design." I muttered, still staring at the fabric.

  He only snorted in response as he walked through the doorway into my bedroom. I was expecting him to deposit me on the bed against my desire, but he bypassed the bed and made for the bathroom door on the opposite wall.

  If I were standing, I would have dug my heels into the ground, but I wasn't. So I settled for shouting indignantly, "what are you doing?" There was a time when certainly lines could be crossed, but two days of conscious interaction wasn't it.

  Gatlin already saw you naked. My inner self snarked at me. Don't go acting pure now. I blushed furiously at my inner self's scolding. She - I - was right, after all. I wasn't what you'd call modest in any way. Though, I preferred the term "sex connoisseur" to the more derogatory titles, I wasn't ashamed to admit that I was a pretty big slut sometimes. Not always, but sometimes.

  "You said you wanted a shower and that stairs are evil, so here's your solution." He explained curtly. He set me down on my feet and turned to walk from the small room, but just before he was through the doorway, he turned back with a smirk. "Unless you need help bathing, too."

  I wasn't sure if the blood drained from my face or rushed to it. "No!" I yelped. I walked painfully to the door and started pushing it closed against Eliam's bizarrely strong frame.

  He just laughed and said, "just shout when you're ready to come back down." As I slammed the door, just barely missing his nose, I could hear him chuckling still from the other side.

  What. A. Dick.

  * * *

  Once out of the shower and into some very comfy pajamas that were covered in unicorns (don't judge me, 'kay?) I was feeling much more like an actual person again. I stretched up and winced at the pain in my back but was glad that it wasn't as bad as it had been earlier. I seriously debated whether or not I should just curl up in bed and go to sleep, but my mind and body were both far from tired. I would guess that's what five days of sleep would do to a girl.

  I gathered my hair into a ponytail and trudged down the stairs, looking around for any sign of the asshole that was masquerading as a nice person. When I deemed the coast was clear, I made a break for the kitchen, only to find the man himself moseying about, with skillets and cutting boards and pots.

  He looked up as I gaped and smiled broadly. "Hungry?" He inquired.

  I bobbed my head up and down. Those grilled cheeses of Drea's were bomb as fuck, but not really proper sustenance. "Definitely."

  He gestured toward the pot he was stirring with a ladle. "Then get to cooking. You're going to have to work for your meal." He commanded with a chuckle.

  I visibly shrunk back and was seriously thinking about bolting. I ended up on one of the barstools because the food just smelled too delicious to pass up.

  His eyes turned instantly mocking and I hated him for it. God, it felt amazing to feel that familiar sense of loathing return. "What is it, then? Can the minx not cook?" He taunted.

  I was instantly taken aback and straightened up to my full height in indignation. "I can cook very well, asshole." I snapped. "I just... Choose not to." Oh, this was humiliating. Cooking in private? No problem. Cooking in front of others... Ah, not the wisest decision.

  "And why is that, exactly? Perhaps because you can't cook?" He was baiting me and I knew it.

  I ground my teeth together as hard as I could without breaking them all. "No, I just... Accidentally get hurt a lot. Burns, cuts, you name it." I admitted without an ounce of visible regret. How humiliated could a person be before they passed away from sheer embarrassment? It took about eight hours for a Sim to die from it, I was pretty sure.

  Eliam's jaw dropped like a sack of bricks, sheer astonishment coating his handsome fingers like a Sheen of sweat. "You're saying you can do all of-" he waved and twirled his hand around in huge gestures that I assumed were meant to indicate my dancing "-in heels almost as tall as Well, but
you can't cook without hurting yourself?" His eyes were bugging out a little and he seemed completely shocked by this.

  I folded my arms protectively across my chest and stared down my nose at him. "Yeah, don't rub it in." I sniffed. "I usually cook when no one is looking, to preserve my dignity."

  "Love," Eliam started with a swift assessment of me. "Your dignity fled the country the moment you put those on." He indicated my unicorn pajamas.

  I scowled and lifted my chin indignantly. "Don't judge me, English boy."

  "Boy!" He threw back his head and laughed, a full-bodied, hearty sound that thawed my heart against my will. "Sweet Ria, I'm much older than you think."

  I smirked and him. "Well then, how old are you?" Finally, some details.

  He just threw me a wink and turned back to his task of stirring. "An Englishman never reveals his age." He teased. "Now get over here and earn your dinner by washing these vegetables, and don't touch anything sharp." He wagged the ladle at me and I could only roll my eyes at him.

  I got up from my stool and started toward the sink. "It's ladies that never tell their age." I muttered as I passed him. I grabbed a carrot and turned the water on, setting it to a lukewarm temperature before starting my task.

  Once the vegetables were all rinsed and scrubbed clean, I jumped up to perch on the counter across from Eliam. I wanted so badly to ask about his very sudden shift in personality, why he suddenly felt compelled to sit by my bedside and wait for me to wake up. I wanted to, but I didn't, because I felt that if I brought it up, he would immediately turn back into the complete asswad that I had first met. So, all I ended up doing was sitting there and staring at him while his long, graceful fingers worked their magic over the stovetop.

  I did need to say something, though, because just staring at a guy for long periods of time was probably not the most well-received method of getting a guy to like you. "Where did you learn to cook?" I asked, seeing it as a pretty harmless question to ask.

  He didn't even look up from his task. "I've picked most of it up over the years, but a lot of it I just taught myself." He explained to me. I don't know why, but it felt somewhat like a secret confession, like it wasn't something that a lot of people knew.

  "Wait."

  This time he did turn toward me, one brow arched. "Yes?"

  I propped my chin on my fist and narrowed my eyes slightly. "If you can cook like this, why does Drea think you'd all basically starve to death without her?" I was pretty sure that the answer was something along the lines of having an excuse to have her over more. Judging my her sullen expression before she left, my guess was that she didn't mind the excuse in the least.

  Eliam chuckled at me, as though he found my mild outrage amusing as all hell. "There are two parts to that answer. The first is that my brothers are all possessive in their own little ways. If you do one thing for them, they'll expect it forever - even from one of their own." He explained before wagging his spatula in my direction. "Which you'd do well to remember." He warned.

  Shit, he was probably talking about that hella hot makeout session with Gatlin... Mmmm... Gatlin.

  "The second," he continued, stirring the pot of whatever the heavenly smell was originiating from. "Is that Drea doesn't care for her home life much at all. It works well because the guys and I quite enjoy having the little pixie around."

  Called it!

  "That's very noble of all of you." I compliment.

  Eliam snorted slightly, throwing me off for a moment. "Don't get me wrong, Ria." He said, his voice lowering in pitch and taking on an almost growling sound. "We don't do things that don't benefit us, first and foremost. There is nothing noble in how we live." He was stalking dangerously close, leaving his precious concoction behind him on the blue and yellow flames. "Anything we want, we take." He finished once he was close enough for me to stick out my tongue and lick the tip of his long, angular nose.

  I shiver ran through me, but I was having a hard time deciphering the nature of my reaction. I consider myself to be a pretty honest person, and I could openly admit to myself that I was seriously attracted to Eliam, despite his dickishness before. Being honest, I was really damn attracted to all of the guys. As much as I wanted to jump every last one of their bones, I was a relationship addict. Sex was fun and amazing with the right partner, but the romance aspect was what I loved the most.

  I just stared at the sexy blonde specimen in front of me, who hadn't moved a single inch. Que the mental war. Pros: super sexy, can cook, great style, heavenly accent. Cons: major ass, and... Yeah, that was about it. I really couldn't come up with any more cons? Huh. That answered that, then.

  So, I went for it. I leaned my body forward just those few short inches between us, my heart hammering in my chest, my mouth going dry. I could hear his own breathing pick up just a notch and see as his lips parted ever-so-slightly.

  Then I licked his nose.

  Eliam backed up several more inches and stared at me, violet eyes full of surprise. "Did you just... Just lick me?" He asked, astonished. I could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to make sense of what just happened.

  I laughed out loud, throwing my head back as my mirth shook my entire frame. Little tears were welling up in the corners of my eyes and I wiped them away with a finger. "What?" I choked out between bursts of laughter. His face still showed his confusion and it was almost too much for me to handle. "Were you expecting something else?"

  His eyes were reduced to slits as he finally shook himself from his surprised stupor and he glared. "Well, yes, actually."

  "I guess you don't always get what you want then, hmm?" I taunted. Oh, this was grand. Unfortunately for me, I didn't see my demise coming until it was too late.

  He rushed forward, wrapping a strong, warm hand around the back of my neck as he drew my to him so quickly that I didn't even have time to gasp properly. Before I knew it, my lips were crushed against his and I made a sound that was nearing animalistic, a sound that I can't recall ever making before that moment.

  He teased at my lips with his tongue and they seemed to part of their own accord, pulling a sigh from me as they did. My tongue danced with his, scraping teeth and tangling together until I was sure that they would form a knot.

  I gave up my pride on this one, finally wrapping my arms around his neck and running my fingers through the hair at his nape, which felt so much silkier than I had imagined. Not that I had imagined it. Again, that’s just weird. I pulled him further in me and he responded immediately, drawing me in as close as physics would let us. The suddenness and surprise of it all had my mind spinning and turning upside down.

  Where did this even come from?

  In a swift and firm movement, Eliam's hands were under my thighs and lifting me from the counter, making me break the kiss with a gasp. Could I do this? We hadn't exactly gotten a gold star for our very short track record.

  War makes for some strange bedfellows. My inner self laughed at me. Yeah, yeah, I got the message loud and clear... And I didn't care.

  I pressed our lips together once more, savouring the heat that rose through my entire body and into my core. Wait. Heat. "Stove. Food." I gasped as I broke the kiss once more. It was delightful to know that I was as eloquent with my spoken words as I was with the unspoken ones.

  Eliam made a growling sound deep in his chest, which everything from my breasts down was pressed against. The sound and vibration did some strange things to my body, so it was really no surprise that when he made to put me down, I clamped my teeth down hard on the side of his neck, just below his ear.

  The growling sound intensified as he clutched my body tight against his, my devious plan already working well. He moved again and did something - probably turned off the stove - and started making a relatively rushed assent into the upper floors of the house. Which featured all the bedrooms, by the way. Which, by association means bed. My heart rate spiked again at the thought, and I couldn't help the wanton way my body was responding.

 
I released my vampire death grip and licked the spot gently, awarding me a light shiver from the body against my own. Only further urged on, I trailed my tongue lightly up his neck until I found his earlobe. I bit down on it delicately, pulling ever-so-slightly, and reveled in the involuntary shivers and shakes from the prideful man that held me.

  I was this close just throwing myself completely over the side of the wagon right where we stood when I was suddenly sailing through the air and landing without a sound on my bright red covers.

  Eliam stood over me at the edge of the bed, looking down at me with the hunger of a lion who's spotted a particularly plump-looking antelope. However, the only thing especially plump about me was my set of nicely-sized breasts that were rising and falling heavily with heavy breaths brought on by barely suppressed desire.

  I was way in over my head and had no honest clue what the hell I was thinking – this was fucking Eliam for God’s sake! I found it hard to keep that annoying little thought in the front of my mind when he was standing there, smirking triumphantly down at me. The feminist in me was screaming in outrage. He began unbuttoning his pressed light blue shirt and I almost screamed, too, torn between wanting him to hurry the hell up and also but the damn thing back on. Once it was off, though, all bets were right behind it.

  His chest and abdomen were mapped out in perfect dips and rises, like the Willamette mountains. It was almost as if he had been carved from some foreign, perfect stone. My eyes traced down from his well-defined pecs to his golden, tanned Adonis belt, pausing there as my breath hitched and caught in my throat. He just stood there leisurely, enjoying my appreciative gaze.

  He seemed to have decided he’d had enough after what felt like several hours of near-unblinking staring and he leaned onto the bed, crawling over me and supporting his weight on his elbows. He didn’t say a word as he dipped down and pressed his lips firmly against mine again, this time with a more seductive, slow rhythm than our frenzied attack in the kitchen.