Purity War

by Laurel Night

  Lucy’s eyelids fluttered closed, reacting to my touch. Her breathing sped up, and she angled her head away from me, exposing more neck for me to caress.

  I dragged my fingers forward, gently tracing the line between her neck and chin, then down the front of her throat. My mouth watered, imagining the taste of her skin, and I bit my lip hard as a reminder to keep my distance.

  Lucy’s hand reached up and grabbed mine, raising it to her lips. She focused on my fingers, kissing each one slowly before slipping her fingers between mine and squeezing gently.

  When she raised her eyes to mine and held my gaze, I knew what she saw: my eyes dancing with my attraction to her. The glow behind my irises tingled, radiating a faint warmth through my face. My eyes were glowing like a lantern as I watched her. I hoped vainly the reflected firelight masked some of it, but it was impossible to hide completely and she was too observant to not have seen it yet.

  Part of the connection vimpiri shared was recognizing our other half in our mate. The glow behind our eyes was a way we evolved to identify them in the caverns back home. When we developed artificial light, this trait never disappeared. Despite being genetically identical to a human in this form, we retained this glow. The only other carried-over trait that followed any form we assumed was the gland that allowed us to mate, hidden in the back of the male’s throat. The gland that, at this moment, was pulsing with the desire to attach to Lucy’s delicate neck. I swallowed, willing it to go away.

  “Mick,” Lucy breathed. Her body turned to me, her eyes dropping to my lips as she leaned closer, inviting me to meet her in the middle. My human heart pounded in my chest. We hadn’t really kissed in weeks, and I missed tasting her on my mouth. Well, we had kissed, but it wasn’t with the same fiery passion that we shared before. I’d been dousing it in layers of duty and responsibility that currently seemed irrelevant. Right now Lucy was before me, eyes shining, pulse visible in her throat, and her soft lips inches from mine. I shouldn’t; I knew where this could lead, but it was all I wanted.

  I pressed forward, closing the distance between us and engaging the kiss. I reached blindly with the hand that still held a glass until I felt it connect with the low coffee table, setting it down so I could use both hands. Now free, my left hand rose to cup her cheek, the other already wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. Lucy returned my kisses eagerly, clearly as frustrated as I had been at our lack of contact. She pushed, turning me until I was leaning back on the couch and she straddled my lap, taking control of the action without breaking the kiss. Her sudden aggressiveness raised a growl in the back of my throat, and I felt her lips turn up in a grin. Her mouth disappeared from mine, and she trailed kisses down my neck while her hands dragged down to the hem of my shirt. Once her fingertips slid under the material, my breath caught in my throat. The trails her fingers left across my skin were fire, and she smoothed them up and over my abdomen and chest, stroking my body possessively.

  I knew what she was doing. Lucy understood that my hesitancy now wasn’t because of a lack of attraction to her. That knowledge was all she needed to be emboldened to this action. She was taking ownership of our connection, of me, and I was more than happy to tilt my head back against the couch and let her.

  ***

  LUCY

  Fire.

  That’s all I felt when Mick’s fingers trailed along the skin of my neck. The look he gave me told me more than he’d said in weeks, without a syllable passing his lips. His eyes watched at me hungrily, and with the slightest encouragement, he was ready to pick back up where we left off.

  Only this time, I understood better. There was more going on than I knew, but that didn’t mean what we had before wasn’t still here. His earlier hesitancy wasn’t about me at all, it was about the expectations of his queen, his mother. It was strange to think about a mother imposing restrictions on who her grown son dated, but I knew it was more complicated than that. His lips told me more now, through his kisses, than they had explained a few days ago. Mick was still very much here, still eager to share this connection with me. The rules limited him, but they didn’t have to limit me.

  The growl he released when I mounted him told me all I needed to know—he wanted me to take charge. My fingers hadn’t explored his perfect body in weeks, and they were hungry, too. Sliding up his shirt, I felt all the hard ridges and planes that women ogle in calendar photos. Did it really matter that he chose to look this way and hadn’t had to work for it? He was delicious, and a voice in my head growled that he was all mine.

  STICKY SWEET

  LUCY

  Mick and I stayed on the couch, kissing, for hours. I was tempted to introduce him to a few pleasures of the human variety, but something told me it would be too difficult to avoid crossing a line. Hadn’t he already said he pulled back because he had a hard time resisting?

  The next evening I awoke, rested and refreshed. I rolled over in my bed, smiling at the memory. My lips were swollen, my face a little sore from the make-out session and Mick’s rough, unshaven cheek. He had let me take the lead, but he was an enthusiastic participant. Some of his kisses had been hard, crushing his lips to mine. He avoided placing his mouth anywhere near my neck, but there were other places on my body that my skin had felt his lips, and those spots tingled.

  A small shudder rippled through me at the delicious memory. I missed this feeling—the giddy, almost-butterflies in my chest. It had been replaced with worry and anxiety, for weeks; and now here it was again.

  A door in the hallway opened, and footsteps padded softly past my door towards the living room. Mick must be up and headed to start breakfast.

  I threw the covers back and stretched, then slid out of bed. Todd and Emily wouldn’t get up for a while; they weren’t exactly the ‘rise at dusk’ type. I took advantage of their absence to get more alone time with Mick. Picking up the cowl-neck sweater I had discarded on the chair a few days ago, I slipped it over my tank top and pulled my hair through, raking my fingers between the strands to smooth some snarls. The sweater nearly covered the boxer shorts I slept in, but I was warm enough, so I slipped out the door and made my way to the kitchen.

  The steel shutters were still closed, and the walls were lit with a soft, cool, glow. The fireplace was off, and just glancing at the sofa where we’d spent so much time last night made me blush. That aggressiveness wasn’t my normal style, but Mick had enjoyed it. When I rounded the corner Mick was in the kitchen with his back to me. His shoulders bunched and released under the black t-shirt at the same time I heard a soft popping noise, and he set the white lid on the counter. The pajama pants surprised me; I realized I’d never seen him in anything besides jeans or dress pants. I wondered what made him suddenly emerge from his room in his jammies.

  Endeavoring to be quiet, I crept up behind him on the balls of my feet. He was entirely absorbed in the task at hand. I heard a soft, metallic ripping noise, and he carefully placed the gold foil from the jar on the counter next to the lid.

  When I was just a foot away, I reached out my hands and slid them along his ribs, tickling gently through the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

  Mick’s reaction was priceless; he jumped, making a surprised grunt before he spun around to see who’d crept up behind him. When I saw his hands and his startled face, I couldn’t help it. I dissolved in a fit of giggles, and his bright red, guilty face only made it worse.

  Mick’s left hand held a giant jar of Nutella with a big scoop taken out of the smooth chocolate, and his right index finger was in his mouth. Clearly, I’d just caught him eating the hazelnut spread straight from the jar with his fingers. He stared at me in shock for a moment, then finished scraping the chocolate from his finger with his teeth and grinned.

  “So this is why you get up so early,” I teased, “You don’t want anyone to know that you’re secretly a chocoholic.”

  “Hey, I never denied that,” he said defensively, “but this stuff is like crack. Seriously. I promised myself I’d keep it in t
he kitchen just to prevent myself from waking up to eat it.” He looked at me guiltily, lifting the jar slightly. “Would you like some?”

  I pretended to consider it seriously, but truthfully it was very tempting. I loved Nutella. Nodding, I headed for the utensil drawer to fetch a spoon.

  “Nuh-uh,” he said. “Come here.” He dipped his finger into the jar again, scooping out a fingertip full of deliciousness and holding it out to me. A coy smile spread across his slightly uneven, full lips.

  My heart flipped, thudding faster. This was new, and sexy. Keeping my eyes on his, I approached slowly and dipped my head, preparing to take his finger into my mouth to remove the chocolate.

  Abruptly he lifted his hand, smearing the spread on my nose. The surprise made me back up, the shock raising my eyebrows as my mouth dropped to ‘o’ shape.

  Apparently, this was very entertaining to Mick. He guffawed, laughing harder than I’d ever seen him. “Gotcha,” he grinned, then slipped the chocolate-laden finger into his mouth, smiling as he pulled it back out clean.

  After a moment I started laughing too, trying to wipe the spread from my nose and searching for a paper towel at the same time.

  “Come here,” he said, still laughing.

  “Oh no, I’m not falling for that one again,” I replied, backing up. I was tempted to lick the chocolate I’d removed from my fingers, but, I wondered if he’d think that was dirty somehow.

  “No tricks, I promise. I owed you that one for sneaking up on me. Just let me help.” He set the jar down on the counter and reached for my hand. When I held it up, he grasped it gently by my wrist, and without pulling his gleaming emerald eyes from mine, lifted my fingers to his lips. Slowly, still watching my face, he inserted one finger at a time into his mouth, sucking to remove the sticky chocolate spread. When he got to the last one, he grazed my fingertip gently with his teeth, sending my heart rate skyrocketing.

  Pulling me closer, he kissed the bridge of my nose before rubbing a finger down to the tip, wiping away more chocolate. He slid the finger into his mouth, and when it was clean, he lowered both hands to my hips and lifted me onto the counter. Reaching for the jar again, he dipped his index finger in and scooped out another fingerful, holding it up in front of my mouth.

  I watched his face, trying to determine if this was another trick. His eyes glowed, the green bright and lively like the surface of the ocean on a sunny day. They held no trace of humor, just the hunger I’d seen in them last night. I parted my lips slightly, inviting him to make the next move.

  Mick slid his chocolate-coated finger slowly into my mouth. I reached out with my lips, sucking gently to remove the spread, then nipping his finger lightly with my teeth as he withdrew it. He traced the now clean finger along my bottom lip, then ducked in swiftly to kiss me.

  If last night’s making out had been a roaring fire, this was like a bed of slow-burning embers. There was something warm and settled about kissing like this: relaxed, playful, and spontaneous. Mick’s lips tasted like the hazelnut chocolate spread, and his mouth was soft and warm against mine. His body, on the other hand, was hard, pressing gently between my legs with my butt on the counter. I hooked my heels around his hips and pulled him in as we kissed. My skin responded to his fingertips as they slid down my shoulders, trailing fire across my sides and gripping my hips. I wondered errantly how much he enjoyed these human situations that were more suggestive of human sex than the vimpiri style. His body pressed against mine in a very human expression of attraction, and I encouraged him, squeezing with my legs and pulling him closer with my arms around his neck. My heart speeding, I thought again about introducing him to some non-vimpiri pleasures when a startled cough from the hallway made me jump.

  “Sorry, guys, I-” Todd started, the discomfort clear in his voice. I turned to see the red spreading across his cheeks. “Wait a minute, what’s on her face?” His eyes dropped to the open jar on the counter next to me. “Are you… painting that on her and licking her face?” His expression abruptly turned to one of disgust.

  Mick and I glanced at eachother, then cracked up at the same time. “Not exactly,” Mick answered, chortling. He stepped away to retrieve a paper towel and wet it in the sink before gently wiping it across my nose. Apparently, he hadn’t gotten all the chocolate off before he got distracted.

  Todd approached cautiously as if he didn’t believe us. He glanced at jar curiously, then seemed to put a few pieces in place. “Mick, did you stick your finger in that jar?” Mick nodded, looking guilty at getting caught. “That’s disgusting. I am never eating your Nutella again. You’re going to make people sick.” Shaking his head, he pulled open the fridge, retrieved two bottles of water, then slammed it shut and strode back to his bedroom.

  We watched him go, Mick wedged between my legs and leaning his hip against the counter. He leaned in close to whisper, “The joke’s on him. What he doesn’t know is that I keep a secret stash for personal use only.” His breath was sweet and rich from the chocolate, and he winked at me. “But I’m okay with him not eating any of it.” When he grinned, the striations of teal and gold in his eyes glowed brightly and appeared to shift, reminding me again of ocean waves.

  I grinned back and dropped my eyes to his parted lips, then leaned forward and pressed my mouth to his before I could think more about it. Since Todd retreated to his room, we had a little more time alone, and I wasn’t about to waste it.

  ***

  LUCY

  Eventually, we went back to our separate rooms to get cleaned up for the night. When I emerged from my room, freshly showered and scrubbed in a comfy t-shirt and my favorite jeans, the low murmur of conversation and scent of breakfast was heavy in the hallway. I followed the promise of coffee to the kitchen where Todd and Emily sat on stools and Mick stood in the kitchen, sipping from a mug.

  “Just in time,” he grinned, nudging a plate laden with toasted french bread and eggs towards the third, unoccupied stool. While I was settling into the seat, he poured me a mug of coffee, rich with the hazelnut creamer I liked. I felt a twinge of heat in my cheeks, thinking of the Nutella incident from earlier. Clearly, Mick liked hazelnut as much as I did. I looked up and caught his gaze, green eyes sparkling over his mug as he sipped.

  Today he wore a dark blue v-neck sweater over faded jeans. It was a good look on him, clinging to his broad shoulders and accenting his narrow waist. I couldn’t help feeling it wasn’t quite him, but maybe I was just accustomed to his button-down shirts and black jeans.

  Todd was dressed similarly, which was also a surprise. He usually wore something I’d call ‘rock star chic’ with artfully shredded jeans and designer ’artsy’ t-shirts. His sweater today was more refined, his jeans free of any rips or tears. I also noted that his hair was brushed back from his face in a manner I’d never seen him wear it.

  I reexamined Mick and realized his scruff from the night before was gone. Typically, he had a day or two worth of stubble. His hair was light enough that it didn’t really leave a shadow on his jaw and sometimes looked like gold when it caught the light. With his face freshly shaven, his hair carefully parted and tucked behind his ears, it was clear he was going for a different look than his normal.

  Emily tapped on her phone, scrolling through social media sites and catching up with the goings-on back home, apparently oblivious to the wardrobe change.

  I said nothing at first; I just worked on my breakfast while they chatted about insignificant things. From the sounds of it, they were discussing the basketball season going on back in the states. It struck me as odd because Mick had never mentioned an interest in any sports, let alone basketball.

  Pushing my plate away, I cleared my throat. “So, what are we doing tonight?” I asked casually, sipping my coffee.

  Todd and Mick exchanged a glance. Mick shifted, his posture betraying discomfort. “We’re going to talk to some people,” he answered vaguely.

  “Okay…” I prompted, waiting for more. Em looked up from her phone, sensing a
change in the atmosphere.

  “We… I… thought it would be a good idea to get people on our side,” Mick explained. “They’ve been hearing an old story, a vague idea, and it’s turning their opinion against us. I thought if we could talk to them, and tell them our side, maybe we’d get more support.”

  “That makes sense,” I nodded. “Who are you going to start with?” I indicated their clothes. “You got dressed up for someone, so they must be important.”

  Todd’s expression revealed his surprise, but Mick just nodded. “Yes, we’re going to talk to Jakob. He’s the one who apparently is the ring-leader in this argument. We thought if we could change his mind, that might just be the end. It seemed like the logical approach.”

  I wasn’t sure I agreed. Wasn’t the logical approach convincing Shaline and Shanii, who had the ultimate say in the decision? If we were already working with them, I didn’t understand what convincing other people would help.

  However, it wasn’t really my place to disagree, I hardly knew anything about his society. “Okay, should I change?” I indicated my jeans and t-shirt combo. It felt a little underdressed next to them.