222 Grace: “Stargazing”
222 Grace: “Stargazing”
Ahem.
He wants to go stargazing? At oh–dark–thirty?
I should say no. I should go back to bed, where Sara and Bun are sprawled across my mattress like tiny dictators. I should absolutely not follow this man outside where anyone might see us while wondering if he’s going to slam me against his truck and have his wicked way with me.
My head spins from exhaustion, arousal, and the sudden energy transfer happening where our bodies connect. It’s flowing out of me faster now, making me lightheaded and warm. I lick my lips, trying to think clearly.
The man’s turning me into a closet pervert and I’m not sure how I feel about it.
“A little, but―”
I reach for the light switch for the strip lights on the camper’s exterior, but he suddenly jumps up the few steps to cover my hand with his.
“Me neither,” he admits, “but I’ll go crazy if I don’t touch you.”
“What are you—”
It’s clear star–gazing is not the point of us leaving the camper tonight, and
flushes.
my face
The night air hits my bare legs as Caine opens the door, and I immediately regret not grabbing pants. At least I’m wearing panties this time, though, and the shirt is oversized enough to cover my thighs.
He nuzzles his nose against my cheek. Warm breath assaults my ear, sending a tremor through my entire body. “Mmm… Have you been practicing?”
A whimper escapes me, and my control over the arcana flowing between us falters. It surges again, wilder now, responding to the spike in my pulse. He slides his hands down, linking his fingers slowly with mine, and the feel of our fingers rubbing together sends electricity zapping up my limbs, then down into the core of me. I shiver, every nerve ending achingly aware of everywhere we touch.
222 Grace: “Stargazing”
Caine suddenly stops, and I nearly crash into his back. He turns and grabs my wrist, his grip gentle but firm.
Sucking in a deep breath, I close my eyes, trying to focus on the torrent of arcana
flowing between us. Something’s different about it tonight. The usual wild rush feels… tamer. More contained. Almost obedient, even. When I mentally nudge it to calm down, it actually does, leaving me wildly confused.
“Yes. Outside.” He gestures vaguely toward the door with something big and bulky in his hand, only to jerk it out of sight again and hold it in front of him. “It’s clear tonight.”
Everything is quiet and still; this isn’t a bustling area at any time of day or night, but I wonder how many people are in the shadows watching. There’s no way Ellie doesn’t have at least one spy on me at all times.
“You said you wouldn’t kiss me,” I accuse, though my voice is a little too breathy and melted to have much impact.
“Are you upset with me?” Caine asks, and I open my eyes to shake my head at him.
His touch sends a familiar jolt through me–the strange, electric current that connects us, mixed with the brain–melting heat of desire.
“You can look at the stars through the windshield if you want,” he says with a smile. But he’s positioned me facing him, my back to the windshield, making his suggestion completely ridiculous.
“Don’t,” he says softly.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“I won’t kiss you,” he promises. “I just want to hold you for a little bit. Can
it?”
you handle
“Yes,” I whisper, mentally kicking myself for not even trying to get control over it from the beginning. I was too busy being dazzled by his… assets.
“Okay,” I say, and it’s not because I’m tempted by the strange thoughts going through my head. It’s not.
He
opens
the passenger door, not the tailgate.
I have, actually, in stolen moments on the road. Testing how quickly I can sense the
222 Grace: “Stargazing”
energy in objects, specifically in cars zooming past. I hadn’t realized how
second–nature it’s become until the laundromat earlier today. The way I zeroed in on the first dollar bill wasn’t random; once I’d pinpointed what I was looking for, I’d known there was something there.
Before I can ask, Caine nudges my hip, pushing me toward the middle seat. I scoot over, my sleep–shirt riding up dangerously high. He climbs in beside me and slams the door, plunging us into silence. The little bit of natural noise outside is gone and only the harsh beating of my heart remains.
Wow, my imagination’s really broadening these days.
The whole “secret relationship” plan is unraveling by the minute, and I can’t make myself care a single bit.
“Do you want to look at the stars?” he blurts out.
Still, I tug at the hem, trying to make it longer through sheer willpower as Caine does an awkward waddle out the door and tosses something under the camper.
Caine’s bizarre behavior is too much for my sleepy brain to compute, and for some reason he seems to be hiding something from me, only looking at me from over his shoulder. 2
I’m suddenly, acutely upset I’m no longer commando.
“I’m not kissing you, Grace.” He drags his teeth down the side of my neck, flicking his tongue against my skin, then bites firmly.
I blink. “The stars?”
The rest of my sentence dissolves into a gasp as Caine bites my earlobe, my body stiffening when his hips rock up against mine. Heat surges through me, pooling low in my belly, and I grind down without thinking.
“Just confused, because it’s easier to control than before.”
His exhale warms my face, smelling faintly of chocolate.
“Okay,” I whisper, completely lost to whatever sexual siren call he’s putting out. My inhibitions are very clearly/zero.
It’s too dark to make out what he’s doing, but also I have to admit I’m not really
315
222 Grace: “Stargazing”
focused on figuring it out. Instead, I’m trying not to stare at his butt or how broad his shoulders are or how he smells so damn good.
“Don’t trip and fall,” he says quietly, like he isn’t the reason I almost did.
Still… he has a point. In the darkness, I can barely make out the ground, much less the details of it. And I’m barefoot.
I slide in, confused. If we’re supposed to be stargazing, why are we getting inside the
vehicle…?
His warm hands encircle my wrists and tugs me down with gentle force, until our foreheads press together in a strangely innocent, intimate moment, even as I can feel the hard length of him pressing against me from below.
My question dissolves into a squeak as he grabs my waist and hauls me into his lap, my legs straddling his thighs. He’s all hard muscle and radiating heat and…
Other things.
He releases my hand, and I miss his touch immediately.
“Okay,” I say for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, letting him guide me to Lyre’s truck.
Is it possible that even this little bit of practice has had this much effect…?
