Cerulean Sins - Laurell K. Hamilton [84]
He stayed on his knees, those tiny shorts stretched so tight across his body. He let his hand fall back into his lap. He was only inches away from me. All I had to do was close that small distance.
I needed to get out of the bed, to walk away, but that strong I was not. I couldn’t seem to take my eyes away from him, so close, so eager, so young. That thought wasn’t mine.
I frowned, and the confusion helped me push back the ardeur long enough to sit up, long enough to look at the mirror on the dresser against the far wall. I was trying to see if my eyes were shining with honey-brown fire, but they were my eyes. Belle hadn’t possessed me like she had once upon a time. But she’d done something—awakened the ardeur hours ahead of time.
The bed moved, and my head swiveled back, like a predator hearing the mouse in the grass. Nathaniel was exactly where I’d left him, but he must have made some small movement, and that one small movement had been enough. My pulse was in my throat, my body tight and swollen with need. A need like nothing I’d ever experienced. I couldn’t breathe past it, couldn’t move around it. It was as if need had taken me over and there was nothing left of me.
This wasn’t right. This wasn’t me. I managed to shake my head, to let out the breath I’d been holding. I was being messed about with. I even knew who was doing it, but I didn’t know how to stop it.
The door to the bedroom opened. It was Jason. He stood in the doorway rubbing his hands on his bare arms. He’d pulled on his jeans but hadn’t bothered to zip or button them. I caught a flash of a new pair of silk undies, pale blue to match the shirt he wasn’t wearing anymore.
“What are you doing in here, Anita? The power is crawling over my skin.”
I tried to talk around the ripeness of my own pulse and failed twice, before I managed to say, “Ardeur.”
He came farther into the room, still rubbing his arms trying to get rid of the goosebumps. “It’s hours too early.”
I wanted to tell him about the dream, about Belle, but all I could concentrate on was the glimpse of silk through his open jeans. I wanted to go to him, to pull his pants down around his ankles, to take him in my mouth . . .
The visual was so strong I had to close my eyes, had to hug myself tight to keep myself on the bed. There was another small movement from Nathaniel.
He had lain down on the bed, his braid trailing behind him like Rapunzel. His face was peaceful. He would let me do anything I wanted to him, even love him to death.
I drew my legs in against my body, wrapped my arms around myself so tight, and held on. “Get out, Nathaniel, get out.”
I felt the bed move, but didn’t dare look. I kept my eyes tight shut. “Get out!”
“You heard her, Nathaniel,” Jason said, “leave now.”
I heard small sounds as he crossed the room, then the door shut. “You can look now, Anita, he’s gone.”
I opened my eyes, and the room was empty, except for the play of sunlight, and Jason standing beside the bed. His hair was very yellow in the light, the color of butter, his eyes so blue. I followed the line of his body to the broad shoulders, the muscled edge of his arms, his chest with its pale nipples. There was no hair on his chest or stomach. A lot of strippers shaved their body hair. I’d seen Jason nude often enough to know that he was mostly shaved. I just hadn’t really noticed how shaved. He was my friend, so even nude, he was still my friend. You don’t stare at your friend’s crotch to see how much body hair there is.
Now, sitting on the bed, holding myself tight, I didn’t feel friendly, I felt crazed. I wanted to fling myself off the bed, onto him. I wanted him naked.
“What do you need?” Jason asked.
I looked up at him, and didn’t know whether to cry or scream, but finally I found words, a hoarse voice squeezed past my pulse, “I have to feed.”
“I know.” He looked so solemn. “What do you need me to do?”
I wanted to tell him to leave, too, but I didn’t. Micah wasn’t here. The vampires were still dead to the world. Nathaniel was off-limits for today. There were others outside