Crimson Midnight (A New Adult Dark Urban Fantasy Series) (The Crimson Series Book 1)

by Amos Cassidy

  Brandon blushed, God the man was beautiful. “Of course…I-I-I’ll just get it…f-f-f-f-for y-y-y-y-y-you…” he stammered and then stood up from his chair too quickly and sent a pile of papers flying to the floor. He cursed under his breath and turned around, crouching to retrieve them. His face burned with heat as he felt Raven’s eyes on him.

  “Would you like some help?” Raven asked.

  “No, no, it’s okay…”

  “I don’t mind.” Raven came behind the desk, crouching down to Brandon’s level.

  “T-T-Thanks…”

  “What part of America are you from?” Raven asked as he scooped up some papers.

  “Los Angeles.”

  Raven smiled and nodded.

  “It’s colder here,” said Brandon. “And I like it much better.” Riveting conversation, Brandon. He scolded himself. Oh no, he’s not going to think you’re dull is he? Stupid! Stupid! Stu-

  “If I am being out of line then I’m sorry.” Raven cut through Brandon’s thoughts. “But I have to bring up the Rainbow Rave…the kiss…”

  Brandon froze. CRAP! Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap…

  “I just want to say,” Raven continued.

  That it was awful, don’t you dare put your nasty lips to mine again you pathetic loser…

  “That you don’t need to feel bad about it or anything. I don’t want you to feel awkward. I don’t feel awkward.”

  Go on, say it: But make sure it doesn’t happen again…

  Raven smiled. “I was very flattered, if not a little taken back. I had no warning.” He cocked his head slightly. “And you are a good kisser.”

  Brandon fell backwards and banged his head on the desk, papers flying from his hands.

  Raven grasped his arm helping him to his feet. “Are you okay?”

  The feel of Raven’s touch almost made him collapse again but he steadied himself. He could feel Raven’s breath on him, feel his body heat…

  “Thank you,” Brandon said weakly. “And I’m really sorry about the kiss.”

  “You really have no need to feel sorry.”

  Brandon watched as Raven scooped up all of the papers, put them onto the desk and went back around it. He extended his hand. “Let’s get introduced properly. My name is Raven Stonewall.”

  Brandon hesitated for a moment and then took Raven’s hand. His skin was so soft to touch. “My name is Brandon Sonnet.”

  “Nice to meet you, Brandon.” Raven shook his hand.

  Brandon smiled, his face still hot. “You too.”

  “May I please have my list?” Raven asked.

  “Of course.” Brandon retrieved it from a tray. “There you go.” He felt a little more at ease, still nervous, but glad that Raven wasn’t upset by what had happened.

  “Thank you. Well, I had better start preparing for my sessions. I’m a little apprehensive about working one on one with people.”

  “You’ll be okay.”

  Raven nodded. “Have a nice day.” He turned to leave. “Maybe I’ll see you at lunch time. Please feel free to come and sit with me. I could do with having lunch with some good company.”

  Brandon’s face ignited in an explosion of red. “Thank you.”

  Raven sat in an office located on the third floor of USL. The office was small with one desk, two chairs and a very healthy pot plant. There was also a filing cabinet and a benign painting of woodland on the wall.

  He examined the list before him. There were six different students, all first year Psychology, whom he would be mentoring as part of his studies: Doug Croft, Jessica Field, Lee Phillips, Ossian Smith, Kara French and Louise Goodman. He knew Jessica Field from lecturing her class and he recognised all of the other names from the same class. The first student he had an appointment with was Ossian Smith. He hadn’t got to know all of his students yet, as some were not as prominent with asking questions and voicing opinions in the lectures as others could be. So he thought this would be a great opportunity to get to know some of them better.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” Raven called, and the door opened.

  The man with the violet eyes stepped into the office. Raven tensed.

  “Hello.” The man smiled gesturing to the chair beside Raven’s desk. “May I?”

  Raven didn’t respond immediately. He sniffed surreptitiously, trying to detect the scent that had accompanied this man the last time he had encountered him. But there was no trace of it. “Please do,” he said finally in a quiet voice.

  The man, Ossian Smith, sat down on the chair and waited with a polite smile.

  Raven tried not to stare.

  Ossian was stunning– there was no other word for it. There were so many beautiful men in the world, but Ossian transcended that beauty, taking it to a whole new level.

  “I’m so glad I’ll be getting some help with my studies,” Ossian said. His voice was melodic and oddly soothing like a beautiful piece of classical music. “I’m finding it a little difficult.”

  Raven’s toes were curled up in his shoes, his dick was getting hard. He adjusted himself in his seat, sitting up very straight. He was, by nature, a tense person, but the tension he was feeling at that moment was of a completely different nature. This was ridiculous, he had never in his life reacted to another man in this exaggerated way.

  “Before…” Raven broke off to cough. “Excuse me,” he apologised, desperately trying to maintain his composure. Taking a breath he began again. “Before we begin with your studies, I’d like you to tell me a little about yourself. We are going to be in this room together once every week so it will be a good idea to not be strangers as best we can.”

  Ossian laughed softly.

  How can I take being in a room this small with this man for an hour every week? I cannot do it. I cannot maintain composure for sixty minutes! I cannot possibly do this! Why did it have to be him?

  “Are you okay?” Ossian asked but Raven didn’t seem to hear him.

  Stop being so weak! You are the Beta! So he is the most breath-taking man you have ever laid eyes upon. So what? He is your student and you are his tutor. That means NO. You are a professional and you cannot be smitten with a student. Get over this nonsense right now!

  “Are you-?”

  “I’m fine,” Raven said. “Okay, tell me a little about yourself.” He smiled and clasped his hands together…tightly.

  Ossian shrugged. “Well, my name is Ossian, and I’ve swapped fresh air, greenery and sea breezes for the hustle and bustle of the city. I only moved to London to attend USL.”

  “Why, USL?”

  “It is the best University for Psychology isn’t it?”

  Raven nodded, “There’s no doubting that.”

  “I’m living in Bethnal Green at the moment, shared accommodation.” He smiled flashing perfect, even, white teeth. His gleamed strangely.

  Ossian stood up and released his hair, letting it cascade over his shoulders, glistening in the moonlight that now bathed him. He was naked, hard, his beauty breath-taking. They were no longer in the office. They were under the stars on a lush green hillside drenched in the silver light from above.

  Raven was naked and breathing heavily, heat pulsing through him. The air was thick with the scent of sex, the enticing cologne that was Ossian. His eyes moved over the man before him, taking in every muscle, every contour and every detail of the perfect naked flesh.

  “Show me the wolf,” said Ossian. “I want to see the wolf.”

  “What’s going on?” Raven asked.

  Ossian moved closer. A gentle breeze caught his hair and it no longer mattered where they were or how. Raven took a step toward Ossian, his feet stepping lightly on cool grass. He wanted to take this man, to lay him down on that cool grass and make love to him, be inside him, kiss him and taste him.

  “Show me the wolf,” Ossian said again, waves of warm breath rich with the cologne brushed Raven’s skin. Raven drank it in, licking his lips.

  �
��Show me the wolf,” Ossian said a third time, reaching his hands out to touch Raven’s bare chest. Raven couldn’t breathe under his touch. He growled, the wolf’s primal instincts roaring. It was too much to handle. Ossian’s touch was too much. There was pleasure and rage and exquisite ecstasy. He couldn’t handle the onslaught of the mixture of emotions, the fire and the need, the cry of the wolf…

  “NO!” Raven leapt up, knocking his chair over.

  Ossian practically jumped out of his chair. “What is it?” He looked about nervously.

  Raven’s eyes shot around the room, taking in the white walls, the painting, the desk, the plant and Ossian – complete with clothes and tied-back hair. He sniffed the air. The only smells he picked up were that of the plant and the carpet. The scent he was looking for was not on the air.

  “Is everything okay?” Ossian asked warily.

  Raven couldn’t answer. His body was trembling and a thin sheen of perspiration had sprung up on his brow and top lip. This was the second time something bizarre had happened in the presence of this man. It was then that Raven noticed that Ossian was waiting on his feet, anxious and confused by his behaviour. He looked genuinely afraid. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t keep acting this way. Whatever was happening was due to his desire for Ossian and it had to stop. He needed to do his job to help Ossian and stop acting like an over-hormonal teen every time he laid eyes on him.

  “I apologise,” Raven said calmly. “I’m really sorry. I think this small office is getting to me.” It was a lame excuse, but the first that sprung to mind. He slid back into his seat.

  Ossian hesitated before sitting back down. “Claustrophobic?”

  “Not really,” Raven said honestly.

  “Oh.”

  Raven hated the fact he had made his student uneasy. “Why don’t we talk about phobia?” He relaxed his posture, leant back and smiled warmly, using his body language to foster a comfortable environment.

  Ossian didn’t respond.

  “Think of it as a get to know you session,” said Raven. “Are you afraid of anything?”

  This time Ossian had a positive reaction. His lips curved in a beautiful smile. “Spiders.”

  12.

  LIPGLOSS

  Faye gave a low wolf whistle. “Wow, Thistle, that’s some outfit.”

  Thistle gave a little twirl in her electric blue cat-suit that ended just below her pert buttocks. Her shapely legs were clad in patchwork cream and blue knee-high boots with a wedge heel, and a thick sparkly cream belt adorned her waist. She looked absolutely stunning and Rose noted Faye’s genuine envy with amusement. Faye didn’t like being upstaged.

  “She might just upstage us in the outfit department,” Rose said, studying her own silver off the shoulder mini dress and black and silver heels. She knew she looked good– the silver tone set off her golden hair and made her blue eyes even bluer.

  Faye studied herself in her full-length mirror. Her leather red-black cat suit set off her crimson hair and was cut in a deep ‘V’, accentuating her full breasts, which were encased in an expensive push up bra. She looked like a seventies superhero. She looked smoking. She frowned.

  “Don’t worry, hun, you look fabulous.” Faye’s new friend drawled over her shoulder as she applied another coat of lip-gloss in the dresser mirror. “You look totally chic. Trust me, you’d be surprised how many people aim for chic but only ever manage slutty,” she added, giving Thistle a once over.

  Rose rolled her eyes. They had decided to meet at Faye’s to get ready before heading out to The Whisper for a seventies disco. But Faye had neglected to warn them about her new friend. Rose had only been in the room with Catherine for half an hour and already the woman was beginning to grate on her nerves. With her ash blonde hair and icy blue eyes, she looked cold and distant. Rose didn’t like to judge people on appearance but it was quickly evident to her that in this case, Catherine lived up to hers.

  Faye had explained that they had met in Selfridges during the week and it had been their mutual admiration for Dior products that had caused them to strike up a conversation.

  And here she was– Faye’s new rich-bitch friend lounging on the red velvet covered dresser seat in her designer pale blue halter neck dress, looking impossibly chic and sophisticated. Rose was struggling to see what her friend saw in the girl. She for one was finding it harder and harder to bite her tongue because, despite her obvious good looks and dress sense, Catherine was simply rude.

  Catherine turned away from the mirror, fixing her arctic gaze fully on Thistle. “It totally suits you, though.” She said it as if delivering a compliment. Her smile however did not reach her eyes. Rose felt her resolve wavering, and was just about to tell Catherine where to shove it, when Thistle spoke.

  “I’m glad you think so, I was so going for the lady of the night look. Some of us have to work at it while others…” here she paused, sweeping Catherine up and down with her wide eyed gaze, “just have it honed to perfection.”

  Catherine slid off the seat taking a step toward Thistle, her eyes were dangerous slits, and her lips a thin line as she pressed them tightly together. If she was hoping to intimidate she was sorely disappointed.

  Thistle turned away, deliberately unconcerned and delved into her small handbag. Her eyes met Rose’s and she shot her a wicked smile.

  Rose bit the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from grinning. It was obvious that Thistle wasn’t someone that needed saving. She found herself warming even more to the woman.

  Faye had usurped Catherine’s position at the dresser and was carefully applying her makeup. If she was aware of the tension between Catherine and the other girls she made no indication of it. She seemed blind to her new friend’s bitchiness– Rose resolved to have a word with her as soon as they were alone.

  “What we need is a drink!” Rose clapped her hands together enthusiastically in an attempt to lighten the mood. She was determined to have a good night and wasn’t going to let Catherine spoil it for her. “I put a bottle of Jacob’s Creek in the fridge when I got here. It should be chilled by now. I’ll go get it.” She headed towards the door.

  “None for me, I cannot stomach that cheap stuff.” Catherine held up her hands, her lips turned down to illustrate her disgust.

  Rose paused, her hand on the doorknob, as she struggled to keep her cool. A second later and she lost the fight. Slowly letting go of the handle she turned to face Miss High and Mighty. Her voice when she spoke was cold and hard. “You are one of the rudest people I have ever met, and I’m struggling with the desire to smack you in your over-glossed mouth. In fact,” she continued, her tone low and menacing, “if you haven’t undergone a radical personality adjustment by the time I come back, I just might lose my battle and succumb to my desires.”

  Thistle snorted and choked on a giggle.

  Faye’s eyes widened in shock.

  Catherine simply stood there opening and closing her mouth and looking suspiciously like a fish out of water.

  “Have a chat with your friend, Faye, because that was my first and final warning.” And with that, Rose left the room.

  She was fuming as she stomped down the stairs and headed toward the kitchen. The stupid, stuck up, over-preened, over-plucked bitch! What the hell had Faye been thinking? Rose shook her head in wonder as she stormed into the kitchen and yanked open the fridge. Pulling out the chilled bottle she began rummaging in the drawers for a corkscrew. “Where the fuck is the fucking stupid…surely they would have a bloody…”

  “Drawer, to your left, at the back.” The voice was like a soothing balm and Rose felt the tense knots in her shoulders un-knit slightly. She half turned to find Ossian seated at the large kitchen table surrounded by papers and textbooks. He was regarding her with an amused yet quizzical expression as he twiddled his pen between his fingers. Smothered in her own cloud of irritation, and on a mission to dowse herself in alcohol, she had completely missed him sitting there.

  Following his instructions,
she located the elusive corkscrew and uncorked the bottle, lifting it to her lips for a satisfying swig.

  “That bad?” Ossian raised an eyebrow.

  Rose nodded, swallowing the cool liquid and taking another swig.

  “I didn’t realise how stressful a girls night out could be.” He was only half teasing.

  Today his hair was loose and fell about his shoulders like a raven’s wing. On anyone else the style may have looked feminine but on Ossian it only served to enhance his aesthetically sculpted features. She must have been too obvious in her appraisal because he seemed suddenly uncomfortable.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, it’s just you’ve got really cool hair and you are pretty hot on the hottie scale– about a 10 out of 10 really.”

  Shit, what was wrong with her? She’d only had two gulps of wine but they seemed to have gone right to her head, and her mouth was doing that thing where it flapped without her brain’s approval.

  He sat forward looking intrigued. “And what scale is this exactly?”

  He looked so serious that she burst out laughing. “It’s just something women do when sizing up a bloke. I’m sure you men have your equivalent. Probably tailored to T & A.”

  “I’m sorry?” Now he just looked confused.

  They stared at each other for a few seconds, in which Rose tried to figure out if he was really as naive as he made out or if he was having her on. He looked pretty sincere and she had always been a good judge of character. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  She shook her head. “Never mind. I’m not about to corrupt you. It’s hard enough to come across a decent gentlemanly bloke nowadays. I’m not about to whittle down the numbers by filling your mind with crap.”

  He sat back cocking his head. “That’s very thoughtful of you.” His eyes flicked down to his notes and Rose felt a pang of guilt.

  “Speaking of thoughtful, I should leave you to it.”

  He smiled and nodded.

  She was almost out of the door, wine in hand, when a thought occurred to her. Spinning on her heel she turned back to face him. “You don’t get out much do you?”