See No Evil: Part One (See No Evil #1)

by Chantal Fernando

  “Okay,” he says, shoulders relaxing.

  I smile and tell him that my favourite colour is black, and that I’ve always wanted to go to Las Vegas. I tell him that I’ve only been in one serious relationship, and that it left me scarred, but not broken. I tell him that one day I’d love to go snowboarding, and I tell him about my wonderful relationship with my parents. He tells me that his father died when he was ten, and that his uncle took him and his two brothers in. He can’t remember his mother. Sebastian chose med school, while he and Spencer had no choice but to go into the family business, although he doesn’t say what that is. His favourite colour was grey, although he said now he thinks it’s green.

  Green, like my eyes?

  I blush at the thought.

  I ask him what emotion he feels the most.

  He tells me it’s guilt.

  I don’t ask why, but I want to know.

  What has he done to feel so guilty?

  Chapter Nine

  One Month Later

  “Spencer told me he could get lost in these eyes of mine for days,” Christina announces on a sigh.

  “Your eyes are cold and lifeless,” Charlie says, scowling, making me and Elijah crack up laughing.

  “Shut up, Charlie,” she says, huffing. “I didn’t even know you were standing there.”

  “Clearly,” he says in a dry tone, then looks to me. “What do you think of the guy, Bree?”

  “That’s her future brother-in-law, so she’s a little biased,” Christina says, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

  Charlie flashes me a droll look, like he expected better from me or something. “The two of you have horrible taste in men.”

  “Maybe that’s why we’re friends,” Christina suggests. “We have that in common. Friendship is based on mutual interests. We should start a group. For women with terrible choice in men to vent to each other.”

  “I can’t even deal with you,” I tell her, shoulders shaking as I try and contain my laughter. “Stop egging him on.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t give me a chance, but you gave creepy hot guy a chance,” Elijah grumbles, shaking his head. “And then when he breaks your heart, you’re going to say that there are no good men out there.” He points to himself. “Even though one was standing here the whole time! Sure, I might have a little tattoo envy, but I can already tell that he’s bad news.”

  “All right, everyone calm down,” I say, rolling my eyes at their theatrics. Did I only hire people with dramatic flair? It seems that way. “I’m not going to spend this shift chatting about my love life.”

  Or lack thereof. It’s been a month since Sylar’s been in my life, and we haven’t even kissed.

  Why won’t he kiss me? Am I that unkissable? I touch my lips with my index finger.

  He needs to kiss me. Or maybe I’m playing it all wrong and need to take things into my own hands.

  “What are you thinking about?” Christina asks me.

  I drop my finger from my lips. “Just wondering how Whiskers is doing.”

  She makes a face. “He’s shitting and pissing all over my house.”

  “That’s what you get for lying about losing a cat,” I say, smirking at her. When Spencer gave her the kitten as a gift, I thought she was going to cry, and not from happy tears. I know she will look after him though. Deep inside, Christina has a heart of gold.

  “I’m thinking about pretending I lost him, too.”

  Deep, deep inside.

  “He’s cute,” I say, shrugging. “And pets are forever. He’s family now. You can’t get rid of family, and you don’t always like them either.”

  “True,” she replies, sending a look in her brother’s direction.

  “Okay, we need to do some work. Elijah, you do the stocktake. Charlie, you do the store run. Christina, you clean the restaurant.”

  “Okay,” they all grumble, leaving me alone to my thoughts. We’ve been seeing each other nearly every day, getting to know each other and enjoying each other’s company, so why doesn’t he want to take things further? I mean, we hold hands and touch each other, so it’s clearly more than a friendship, but we aren’t lovers, because he hasn’t touched me in a sexual way. Still, I do just like being around him. I don’t think I’ve been this happy in a long time. Sylar is unlike anyone I’ve ever met, and anyone I probably will ever meet.

  Still, if I have to hear about Christina’s epic sex life with his brother again, I’m going to have to scream.

  After work I head straight home and find Sylar’s car there. With his help, I’ve done more work on the house than ever before, and it’s starting to look amazing. Sylar and Spencer both know so much about trade work, and I’m learning so much from the two of them.

  “Hey,” I say, walking over to him as we both get out of our cars. He opens his arms and I go right to him, resting my head on his chest, his arms wrapping me in his safety and warmth.

  “How was work?” he asks, kissing the top of my head. Okay, so that he will do, but his lips haven’t touched mine just yet.

  “Not bad,” I say, closing my eyes. “How was your day?”

  “Went into work,” he says, referring to his part-time construction gig. “Then wanted to see you. Can I take you out for dinner tonight? Wherever you want to go.”

  I smile against the soft material of his T-shirt. “I’d like that. Let me have a quick shower and get changed first.”

  I step away from him, but take his hand in mine as I walk to my front door and unlock it, refusing to let go of him. He chuckles as I try to open it and fail. Eventually he lets go of me, takes the key, and does it for me. He’s laughing a lot more, I’ve noticed.

  And sometimes his smile touches his eyes.

  Sometimes.

  We walk inside and I put my keys down on my kitchen table, along with my handbag. When I glance up at him, I don’t know what he sees on my face, but his expression turns concerned, his brow furrowing. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I say quickly, shaking my head.

  Maybe a little too quickly.

  “Brielle,” he says, voice low and stern. “Tell me.”

  I clear my throat and decide to just go for it. Complete honesty. I can do this. Taking a deep breath, I look him straight in the eye and say, “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

  I see his eyes widen as he processes my words. He blinks a few times, runs his hand down his beard. “You’re upset because I… haven’t kissed you?”

  I nod, then add, “It’s been weeks. Are you not attracted to me or something? I mean, I know you always compliment me and tell me I’m beautiful, but—”

  He cuts off my rant with his lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, and his hands cupping my face. His lips fit perfectly over mine, his taste addicting, his hold on me possessive and gentle at the same time.

  A devastating combination.

  When he breaks the kiss, pale blue eyes lock with mine. For once his emotions aren’t hidden. For just a moment, I see me how he does. I see the want, the need. The fascination. He looks at me like I’m perfect, like I’m rare. Like I’m his.

  “That was worth the wait,” I breathe, my eyes still heavy lidded as the post-kiss haze hasn’t left me. I don’t think it ever will. In fact, I need more of it right now. I go up on my tiptoes and pull his head down to me, so our lips are close but not touching. “Does this mean I get to kiss you whenever I want now?”

  I see his throat work as he swallows. What is going on in that mind of his? Was this a way of keeping his distance from me? If it was, it’s now over. He can’t kiss me like that and not expect me to want it again. Over and over. Every chance I’m able to. Fuck, I’m addicted.

  I close the space between us and kiss his lips softly, hesitantly at first, retreating a little before diving in and kissing him fully. He lets me. With a growl from deep in his throat, he takes control and deepens the kiss, hands on my waist, fingers digging into my skin.

  I knew we’d have this chemistry fro
m the moment I laid eyes on him, because I’ve never felt drawn to someone like that before. In fact, if you’d asked me before I would have told you that that kind of instant attraction and allure didn’t exist.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” I say against his lips, closing my eyes and resting my forehead against his. In a quick move, he lifts me and places me on the counter, probably so he doesn’t have to bend so much, since he’s so tall.

  “Not upset anymore?” he asks in a husky tone, eyes as gentle as I’ve ever seen them.

  I shake my head.

  “Good.”

  “I better go get ready,” I say, before I drag him to my bedroom. I kiss him once more, just because I can, then jump down and head to my room.

  “Brielle?” he calls as I’m about to leave the room.

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t ever think that I don’t want you,” he says, shifting on his feet. “It’s not that. I just… am at war with myself over what I have and what I should have. I wanted to kiss you from the moment I first saw you.”

  “Sylar—”

  “Go get ready,” he says gently, smiling sadly. He doesn’t want to explain his comment, but he’s given me what he can. I don’t want to push him; he can tell me everything when he’s comfortable. It’s his choice, his story to tell.

  “Okay,” I whisper, then jump in the shower.

  I replay the kisses over and over again while I wash my body, squeezing my thighs together in frustration.

  If I can feel this from just his lips on mine….

  I can’t wait for what’s to come.

  Chapter Ten

  After dinner, we head back to my house. As he’s walking me to the door, I feel bold enough to ask, “Do you want to stay the night?”

  He stills. “Brielle—”

  I place my hand on his chest. “Sylar, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. We can just cuddle, or whatever.”

  I don’t think I’ve ever had to talk a guy into my bed by telling him he’s safe from me. From his previous comment, it seems like he feels like he doesn’t deserve anything from me. I feel like he’s slowly allowing himself to enjoy us more and more, to not feel so guilty about being happy, but I don’t think he realizes that he’s also punishing me by resisting. Okay, that’s a pretty dramatic thing to say.

  And selfish.

  God, his kisses make my mind go all mushy.

  He doesn’t say anything, but comes inside with me and sits on my bed while I take my eye make-up off and brush my teeth. I remove my clothes and throw on my black PJ pants and singlet top, assuming it’s something safe, not too sexy, just comfortable. He’s shirtless upon my return, and it’s all I can do not to stare. I’ve never seen his bare body before.

  Ever.

  His tanned skin is smooth and hairless. Aside from a few scars, which in my opinion only add to his beauty, his body is sheer perfection.

  “Wow,” I mouth, eyes wide as saucers. “Those are abs. In real life. Yeah, wow.”

  Okay, I knew his body was hard as a rock, but I didn’t expect… this. I didn’t realize he’s so muscular. He shakes his head at me, like he’s finding my whole reaction amusing, then pats the bed beside him.

  I sit down next to him.

  We look at each other.

  He reaches his hand out and cups my face. “You are so perfect, just like this.”

  “I’m not perfect, Sylar,” I whisper. “No one is.”

  I look down at his stomach and let my fingers trace his abs. “Okay, some people are.”

  “I’m not a good sleeper,” he admits.

  “That’s fine because I sleep like a log,” I say, shrugging. “Unless you need me. Then please, wake me.”

  “You’re a deep sleeper?”

  I nod. “Yeah, I can pretty much sleep through anything.”

  “I won’t disturb you?” he asks, looking unsure.

  I gently tug on his beard. “You won’t, and if you do, I don’t mind.”

  “I mind,” he says, sighing. “Sometimes I just can’t sleep, so I’ll get up and wander around the house, or work out.”

  “So that explains the abs.”

  “Brielle, concentrate,” he chastises, making me giggle a little.

  “You can wander around my house, you can work out, you can do anything you like. Make yourself at home. If you really hate it, then I won’t ask you to sleep over again, okay?”

  He leans forward and presses his lips to my forehead. “I’m sorry I’m so difficult.”

  “That’s meant to be my line,” I joke, running my hand over his shoulder.

  “You can’t fix me.”

  “I’m not trying to. I’m trying to be with you just as you are.”

  “You don’t know what you’re getting into,” he says, making a sound of frustration. “You’re extremely stubborn, you know that?”

  “Yep.”

  “Brielle?”

  “Yes, Sylar.”

  “Come here,” he growls, pushing me back on the bed and kissing me hungrily. I run my fingers down his bare back, wishing my T-shirt was off, so I could feel his bare skin against mine. But I’ll take what I can get. My breasts press against his chest and I can feel my nipples pebble. I’m so turned on, but it’s up to him to make the move, to take what he wants, because I don’t want to push him into doing something that he regrets afterwards. I might not be the most patient woman in the world, but I know Sylar is different to other men.

  He breaks the kiss and looks down at me. “I love kissing you.”

  I smile and reach up to touch his face. “Me too.”

  “You’re the only person I’ve ever met who can test my resolve,” he whispers, then shakes his head. “What am I going to do with you, Brielle?”

  Love me?

  Fuck me?

  Never let me go?

  I could name a few things, not that I’d vocalize any of them.

  I kiss him in answer, pulling him down on me, loving the feel of his weight. He lets me roll him over onto his back so I’m on top. His eyes never leave me, and I like that. It’s intense, and it’s powerful. I feel so giddy when he looks at me like that, like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, like he’s so fascinated and amazed by my mere presence. To see that in the eyes of a man so rough around the edges, so guarded, is something I’ll never forget.

  “You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen,” I tell him. “They were the first thing I noticed about you.”

  His lips kick up at the corners in obvious amusement.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I don’t think I’ve heard the word beautiful being applied to me in my life,” he says in a low tone, his hands running down my back. “You’re something else, Brielle. You bring out a side of me I didn’t even know existed.” He pauses, then says, “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

  I know exactly what he means.

  “Me either,” I reply with full honesty, and I don’t really know what it is. It’s more than just lust, than just mutual attraction.

  It’s visceral.

  That’s the only word I can use to try and explain it.

  I climb beneath the sheets and he does the same. “I like having you in my bed.”

  “I like being here,” he rumbles, pulling me into his arms. “Anywhere you are.”

  I fall asleep with a smile on my lips.

  *****

  I wake up in the middle of the night, and Sylar isn’t in bed. I know he won’t like it if he thinks he woke me up, but I find myself getting up to see what he’s doing. I find him on the couch, TV on, in nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts.

  I’m pretty sure my face looks like the love heart eye emoji right now, because the view of him is one I could definitely get used to.

  “Hey,” I say softly, my voice husky. I climb onto the couch and rest my head on his lap.

  His fingers tangle in my hair as he gently massages my scalp until I’m about to fall back asleep.
“I want to stay up with you,” I say, yawning.

  “Go to sleep,” he gently commands. “I don’t want you to be tired in the morning because of me.”

  “Sylar—”

  “Sleep.”

  With his fingers massaging my head with a perfect pressure, how can I not?

  *****

  When I wake up next, I’m back in my bed, wrapped in Sylar’s arms. Rubbing my eyes, I lift my head and look at him. He’s awake.

  “Did you get any sleep last night?” I ask, hating that he never gets any.

  “A few hours,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “Which is more than usual, to be honest.”

  “How do you run on such little sleep?” I ask, feeling sad for him. “Why don’t you take a sleeping tablet?”

  He immediately shakes his head. “No, I don’t want to do that.”

  Because it takes away his control?

  “Why not?” I ask, laying my head back down on his warm chest.

  “Because what if something happens and I’m out of it?” he murmurs, pulling the blankets up over us. “I don’t like the thought of not being in control of my own body.”

  Nailed it.

  “What could possibly happen though?” I ask him. “And Spencer is in the house with you when you’re home anyway. So if someone broke in or something, he can kick their asses.”

  There’s amusement in his tone when he says, “Not going to rely on Spencer to save the day. He will probably sleep through a burglary because he’s still drunk.”

  “Or can’t hear over Christina’s cries.” I snicker. I make a mental note to remember to tell her that line.

  Sylar suddenly rolls me under him and pushes my hair out of my face. I can feel his hard cock against me, and my breath hitches.

  “Do you want me?” he breathes, gaze dropping to my mouth.

  I nod.

  “I want you so much, Brielle,” he says, making a sound of frustration. “I shouldn’t be here with you right now, but I can’t seem to leave. I’m selfish. You don’t choose who catches your eye. You caught mine, and now I can’t seem to step away from you. I’m stuck.”

  “You can be as selfish as you want with me,” I say, grabbing his neck. “It’s your call, Sylar, but I want you, too. I fucking ache for you.”