Do you think we can be friends?” I asked.He stared up at the ceiling. “Probably not, but we can pretend.
Vane grabbed me. “DuLac, let’s chat.” British-speak for “Stand still while I yell at you.
Vane’s lips tightened to suppress a smile. “Why so hostile, love?”“You whacked me on the head with a ball!”“You deserved it.
I caught his hand. “What do you want me to do?”Leaning down, he kissed the pulse beating on my neck just above the damaged skin. “Tomorrow, I need you to die.
He’d used the amulet to read my thoughts again. I pictured smacking him in the face.
I noticed him right away. No, it wasn’t his lean, rugged face. Or the dark waves of shiny hair that hung just a little too long on his forehead. It wasn’t the slim, collarless biker jacket he wore, hugging his lean shoulders. It was the way he stood. The confident way he waited in the cafeteria line to get a slice of pizza. He didn’t saunter. He didn’t amble. He stood at the center, and let the other people buzz around him. His stance was straight and sure.
Rough palms cradled my face while my fingers gripped the pillow on either side of his. Lips, teeth, tongue, mingled together. I ate him up and didn’t let go until I had to come up for air.
Matt was almost completely naked. A tattered loincloth and an ugly chain with a yellow diamond were his only apparel.
Vane grabbed me. “DuLac, let’s ch
Without thinking, I step a little closer, reaching out slowly to slide a fingertip over the largest petal of the lily tattoo on her lower back. Instantly a vibration moves up my arm, and I swear the mark on my hand burns against my skin.I clench my fingers into a fist, but I don’t step away.“Did you feel that?” she asks.I shake my head. “I don’t know.” I feel so much, always so much.She takes my hand and brings it to her side again, resting it on the violets. I look at thepurple flowers between my fingers and feel the heat of her skin, the way it slides beneath my palm, soft as silk. And that vibration moves through my arm again.Her breath quickens.I find myself moving closer as her blue eyes go wide with wonder. My heart stutters and my chest aches with some unknown need.“Are you doing this?” I ask. Is she making me want this?“No,” she breathes. The smell of her turns to spice, sharp and warm, and I know I’m sensing her now, even through the block in the house.We stand like that for an eternity, still as statues on the outside, but inside I’m running, running toward a place I’ve never been. I should be terrified. But all I feel is strength. Rightness.And then Kara moves, her hands skimming up my chest, testing the boundaries. Her palms slide to my shoulders, her fingers tracing the line of the muscles in my arms, down to my waist. She grips my shirt, stretching it a little, waiting for me to tell her to stop. But I watch her lift it, let her pull it up, raising my arms, and I even take the last of it off myself, dropping it to the floor.We breathe, staring at each other.The vibrations move between us. My left arm buzzes with them. I think she’s doing it. Whatever’s happening, it’s her.I reach up and brush my marked knuckles across her cheek, amazed at the feel of her, the way her eyes seem to see everything, the way she pulls me into her. I can’t seem to remember why I shouldn’t kiss her. And kiss her. And . . .I kiss her, taking her face in both hands, skimming my thumb over her jaw as she leans into the touch, reaching out to curl her fingers around the back of my neck. I have to remind myself to breathe. I need more of her. The emotions roll over me in a rush, a tangle of sensation and movement, heat and sugar and heady aromas.I grip her tighter.Her nails dig into my shoulders. My hands slide down her spine. The kiss deepens, goes on forever, until I can barely see sense. I explore her shape, the feel of her ribs, the textures and taste of her skin on my tongue as I kiss her neck, her shoulders, her chest. As I draw trembling gasps from her lips, she grips me so hard it hurts.Our bodies mesh. Our breath mingles in frenzied desperation. Nothing else exists except her. Her warmth. Her spice. Her.
As soon as he stood in front of her, she folded her arms and looked cross. "You don't have any gardening skills. You turned down a prestigious job to weed the garden? "I will be rewarded richly in treasures untold." She raised a brow. "I've heard dragon-shifters pay a lot of money to merchants and the like. "Aaagh, but you are also a dragon-shifter of a sort. Yes, but I am a gardener, which means I don't go on high-risk missions to earn my gold.
Ena," Brett said. "Lady Ena, Ryker corrected from the doorway. Brett smiled. He couldn't imagine her wanted to be called anything but Ena, but he would call her anything that pleased her. The sharp look she gave her butler made Brett think calling her Lady Ena was out. Ryker, being his usual unflappable self, just looked at her as if he was in charge and she would go by her new title or else.
Great! I hope different police officers are here this time." "Might be, but we're in the same police jurisdiction. I'm certain from the last time you were here, they probably have a record about you. What was it you said? You were playing some game re-enactment the last time you were injured?" "Yes. How did your brother come up the idea of a paint-ball game? That's a good one." "He's played them here before. He would like to bring the game back to our world, but we fight for real.
Teach him something useful, will you?" Elorian shook his head. "It is like housebreaking a puppy. There are bound to be lots of accidents and lots of cleanups." Frustrated beyond measure with the whole situation, her missing staff, an out-of control mage, a frozen mage, and a cursed phantom fae turned raven, Ena couldn't believe the mess they were in.
Have you thought of doing it? Being a cattle farmer? If that's what it's called? I think we should do that, but replace cattle with bunnies and then we don't milk or eat the bunnies. We just let them multiply. Then we'll take over the world. Me the queen. You the king. Our bunnies the army nobody can defeat.
In third period Math, we were forced to sit in alphabetical order. Which put me right behind Logan, who was throwing all those passes to Aiden in the scrimmage. He took off his navy blazer and when he leaned forward to write, I could see muscles bulging across his back and shoulders. I can already tell Math is going to suck, but at least I’ll have a nice view.It’s like what Grandpa always says about real estate. Location, location, location.
He smiles. It’s a blinding, white-toothed smile. A push-me-over-the-edge-of-the-love-cliff smile. And before I can say a word in protest, he’s got my hand and is dragging me through the carnival.Note to self: Do not stare directly at his smile. It holds special powers.Also: Do not kiss him. His mouth is definitely the source of his power.
She communicated in what ways she could – sweet whines of happiness and wet kisses. She knew him. She knew him. He knelt in the grass, still pouring his attention onto her. She received every ounce of it in a way only a dog can, its unconditional love contained in every breath and every heartbeat. And Luke was struck precisely at that moment at his capacity to feel so moved by the simple act of affection for this sweet animal. He swallowed hard. It wasn’t easy to let himself feel it, the gentle tug from a place deeply buried. And in the grass on his knees, he found himself releasing the sadness long held hostage in that deep place. Tears spilled over, finally uncontained. The dog stretched its snout through the rails and found his wet cheeks with its tongue. He did not retreat, but let her clean the tears from his face.
Soft sun shone down on a misty cathedral at the opposite end of a football-field length courtyard. The cathedral had a long pointed tower with beautiful rose and ivory stained glass windows. Pink-petal flowers and deep green ivy climbed the stones from the ground to it’s roof. A large fountain stood in the middle of the courtyard with water falling from several lion’s heads. Between the misty air and rolling slope of the earth, the grounds reminded me of a long lost fairy tale.
Marilynn...passed out black cases to everyone. I opened mine to find an iPad inside. Several candidates whistled. Despite my agitated state, it impressed me too. Maybe wizard school wasn’t going to be as lame as I had thought.“All of your schedules and assignments will be done on these,” Marilynn explained. “The whole school is on these. We’ve had them for awhile now.
I have to go,” he said softly. “But you should take a few minutes to fix your hair; it’s a real mess. And your face is all flushed.” “Maybe I’m just not practiced in these sorts of things.” For a long moment, Ash said nothing. Then he whispered, “Neither am I.” His next words were forced out like a confession. “If I was any good at it, it was only because I’ve imagined it so often.
All that guides me is fear,And all that finds me is lossDeath defines which paths I crossIt is within the shadows that I stumbleAnd I am desperate without a voiceHere I am threatened by the resolve that you are my soulBut if my lies are the path that I have to wander because there is no choiceWill you love me still?In the darkness of the night when I wish to do nothing more than take flight?Will you hold me to this plane and ease the suffering and pain?When all you know is the truthAnd all they see is the liesWill I be the one you find, or the one you leave behind?Alone may be the only home I shall find
When I near Charlie’s house, I notice she’s standing in the doorway with a spatula in her hand. Despite being on edge, I can’t stop myself from grinning. I feel like such a chick around her sometimes, like I’m seconds away from buying a tiara and starting my period.
I forgot that Mark and Brian are gardening for you now. "You're the master gardener. So you are in charge of them. But as a dragon-shifter, I want to do what you do. Ena smiled. You want to earn the kind of treasure that I do. But you would have to learn the trade. Right! You can be my teacher. I need to earn my own way if I'm going to court you. How will I ever be able to buy you the most extravagant gifts when I am still trying to pay off my boots and other clothes?
If she could explore and heal his injuries with her fingers, it would be another type of magic, her skin making contact with his. Putting her mind to it, Love would become familiar with his body. She would know him from top to bottom, from beginning to end. Touching this boy would be the death, and life, of her.
He holds out a trembling hand and traces the shape of her arm, descending to her elbow. “You’re like mist,” he says. “You really don’t feel this?”Love shakes her head. “No.”But that’s not entirely true, because this illusion of a touch has turned her into a current, this human has reached down to her bones.Then his fingers curl right through her hip, and he lowers his voice. “How ’bout that?
Attack me already. Please! I can’t take it anymore.But I don’t say any of that. I just savor each and every slow, amazing, and tongue-free kiss. Maybe he was born without a tongue, I think for a brief second, but then I realize that I am dumb because he wouldn’t be able to talk if he had been, now would he?
Seconds seem like a life time when the life you lived is slowly drained out of you by those who care not what you felt, hoped, or dreamed. When the darkness comes it is all consuming, there is no light and there is no pain. It is the never ending loss of hope that now consumes me as I die in his arms.