She felt color touch her cheeks again. She could not believe she’d just admitted that he made her nervous. She was Arianna Rose, for heaven’s sake! She was never nervous around guys. But Desmond was not like any other guy. And there was the fact that he had told her that he loved her. Not face to face, but he’d whispered it in the wind as faint and frothy as a thought in her mind. Despite the lightness of its delivery though, what he had told her, his words, had carried more weight than he could possibly imagine.
“Do I make you uncomfortable, Arianna?” he asked and looked oddly vulnerable.
“Yes,” she said and lowered her gaze to her hands in her lap.
She was ruining any chance of a pleasant visit that existed for them. She knew it. She looked up at him through her lashes and saw that he looked as if he’d been punched in the stomach.
Without knowing what else to do, Arianna stood and spread her arms out. “What do you think of this place?” she tried to change the subject. He’d already told her it was nice, but she was so rattled, she’d lost her train of thought. She suddenly felt like John Jervis, minus the extra fifty pounds and general hairiness.
“It’s nice, really nice,” he replied uncomfortably.
“It’s different from the string of trailers I’ve lived in, that’s for sure,” she said.
She heard how hurt and frazzled her voice sounded. She had not wanted to be pathetic, had wanted to put on a braver face for him than she had been, but the mere mention of anything related to her mother pained her. She wished he would reach out and touch her, hold her tightly and never let go.
“It certainly is,” he agreed. “How did you end up here?”
“You mean in Maine, or in this cabin?”
“Both.”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I just felt pulled here, like a huge magnet was attracting me here. So I got in my mom’s car and drove. I stayed in a motel for a few days and looked in the paper for a more permanent place. That’s when I found this cabin,” she said and glanced around. “It was listed with a real estate agent, who was really annoying and pushy, by the way, and tried to make me look at apartments way out of my price range and in more crowded areas. But I knew I wanted to be here, in this cabin. I guess it was pulling me, too.”
“Huh,” Desmond said and rubbed his chin. He seemed so calm outwardly, save for the slight tremor of his hand. She wished she felt as calm as he did. Inside, she felt as if each of her cells was firing frantically.
“And then there’s school,” she chattered away. “I have to register tomorrow and start classes and all that stuff. There’s just so much to do.”
“Wait, what?” he interrupted. “School? I thought we agreed school was not a good idea until you learn to better manage your emotions.”
“Yeah well, that was before,” she said and wrestled with a surge of sadness beginning to brim. “And I promised my mom I’d get my high school diploma. I promised her I’d graduate from high school.”
“I see. But why can’t you finish high school through distance learning, take online classes. You’ll still graduate with a high school diploma.”
“That would have been an option at the beginning of the school year maybe. But now, I have, what, like six months of school left?”
“Seven, but who’s counting,” Desmond added and smiled.
Arianna blushed again. She wondered for a split-second whether he was flirting with her then silently scolded herself for even thinking something so absurd. After the way she’d behaved thus far, there was no way in hell he was flirting. She’d behaved weirdly at best, unpleasant at worst. He did not want her. Perhaps she’d dreamed that he’d whispered in her head that he loved her. Maybe her traumatized brain had invented it. And then there was the kiss. She guessed the kiss meant far more to her than it had to him. He’d been around for almost a hundred years, or so he’d said. In that time, he’d probably kissed more women than he could count. To him, it was undoubtedly the equivalent of a raindrop in a vast ocean. To her, it had been a deluge in a desert. She understood now, and the longer he stayed, the more obvious it was becoming that he did not feel for her as she felt for him.
She felt foolish and wished she could be more aloof about the whole situation.
When Desmond stood suddenly and said, “Arianna, I’m sorry for coming. It’s obvious I am no longer needed in your life. It was a mistake for me to come,” she felt the air squeeze from her lungs. She was about to ask him why, why he had come in the first place, why he had kissed her, but he spoke before the words ever fell from her lips. “But before I leave, I have one question I’d like to ask you. It may seem like an odd one, but, when you killed Kane and his men, how did you feel?”
The moment seemed surreal, his question was ridiculous.
“Wait, first you tell me you’re leaving after being here for all of like, fifteen minutes then you ask me how I felt when I killed Kane and his men! Are you out of your freaking mind, Desmond?” she lashed out. She had not felt like herself earlier, but she certainly did now. The dulled, frilly edges of a mind swamped by girlie delusions came sharply back into focus. Oh I’m out of here, Arianna, but first, I just wanted to drop this asinine question in your lap she imitated his words in her mind with the squeaky voice of a cartoon character. Was he for real? She wondered.
“No, not that I know of,” he replied calmly.
Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “It was a rhetorical question, Desmond,” she said snippily. “Why do you want to leave?”
“I don’t want to leave. It seems like you want me to leave,” he said and looked as confused as she felt.
“Oh, so now you’re an expert on what I want, too,” she argued. “It’s not enough that you know more about my powers, my destiny and what I am, than I do. No, no. Now you’re a freaking mind reader, too!”
“Clearly, I’ve upset you,” he said levelly. “I did not come here to upset you.”
Arianna felt her blood begin to boil. She was not some high-strung, overly sensitive girl prone to fits and tantrums. She was not overreacting.
“Then why the hell did you come, Desmond, to ask me if I liked killing those men?” she yelled and began pacing. “Well then, don’t let me waste another moment of your time. Yes! Yes I did enjoy killing those bastards! They would have killed me first if they could have, just like they killed my mother and Luke! I enjoyed killing them and I’m glad they’re dead! And I’d do it again if I had to! There, does that answer your question? That is what you came for, right?”
“No, it isn’t,” he said flatly.
“Then why did you come?” she shouted at him as she stalked from one end of the living room to the next.
“I came because I love you,” he said softly.
His words stilled every sound, every movement in the cabin. They stilled everything except the wild beat of Arianna’s heart. She froze where she’d railed just seconds ago. Hands that had gestured animatedly fell to her sides and the furious, wild-eyed expression she’d tried desperately to conceal relaxed completely. He loved her. He’d said it himself. She wasn’t sure what to say or do, so she did nothing for a moment. Then she took several steps toward him and stopped just inches before him, her chest rising and falling faster the closer she got to him. She raised her hand to touch him and he recoiled just a bit. She nearly laughed aloud seeing his reaction to her. Did he think she was going to hit him or something? She wondered.
“I’ll leave,” he said and sidestepped her.
“Shh,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“You don’t? Then what was all,” he started to ask, but never finished his question. She silenced him by pressing her lips to his.
With her mouth on his, she rose to her tiptoes and pressed her body to his. She could feel the frantic beat of her heart against his hard chest, feel his warmth. He wrapped his arms around her waist and scooped her up so that her feet no longer touched the ground. A soft sigh escaped her and she parted her lips and sw
ept her tongue into his mouth. The sensation was exhilarating, the taste of him delicious. She forced herself to exercise every bit of restraint she had to keep from trailing her tongue down the length of his neck and tasting more of him. And she did not want to rush what was happening, rush the inebriating thrill she was feeling.
Her hands raced up into his hair and she tangled her fingers in the short curls at his nape before sliding her body down his, not missing the firmness below his belt, to her feet. She heard him groan in delight, the sound rousing every part of her body and continued teasing his tongue with hers.
Her fingers danced up under the back of his shirt then trailed down slowly, tracing every muscle as it descended lower and lower, to the waistband of his jeans. His skin was hot to the touch. She wanted to feel his hot skin close to her, around her, on her, inside of her. Need twisted feverishly within her and, as if sensing her intense desire, his hand moved up her side and under her shirt until it reached her breast. With deliberateness that nearly buckled her knees, he kneaded it over the silky material of her bra and she felt her nipple harden. He gently squeezed a stiff peak between his index and middle fingers as he rubbed, and the feverish, twisting need coiled so tightly, she thought she would shatter into a million euphoric pieces. She moaned and began to rub the part of him that had hardened. He covered her mouth with his and lapped at her lips sensuously.
To hell with prophesies, she thought, imagining what his tongue would feel like elsewhere. What she was experiencing with Desmond, the fact that he loved her, was more important than any ancient rambling scribbled in a book.
She was about to begin unzipping the fly of his jeans when slowly, Desmond lowered his hand from her chest. The sensuous probing of his tongue stopped and he pecked her lips lightly.
Arianna backed away from him, shocked and panting a bit. She searched his eyes for an explanation, but saw the same passion-glazed look in his eyes she was sure she wore herself.
“We can’t,” he said, but his words lacked conviction. And so did his body. He wanted her; that much was plain to see.
“I want you,” she ignored his halfhearted attempt to stop what they’d begun and looked at him with every bit of hunger she was feeling.
Desmond cupped her face in his hands then bent his head. He took her lips hard, sending a burst of emotion through her. He pulled her close to him and her energy roared inside her like a river, powerful, unstoppable. Arianna’s body melted against his and she parted her lips. He slid his tongue between them and sent her over the last ledge of self-control that remained in her. She loved him. And she wanted nothing more than to be with him, all of him.
The sudden need to touch every inch of his skin, to feel his naked body writhing atop hers, overwhelmed her.
“I love you, Arianna. My life is meaningless without you,” he whispered with sincerity.
Arianna threw her arms around his neck and drew herself deeper into his ravenous kiss. She wanted to hear him say he loved her again and again, to hear that he needed her as she needed him, but desire enveloped her fully. His hands found the hem of her sweater and pulled it over her head before they moved to the clasp at the back of her bra. The satiny garment fell to the floor soundlessly and he lowered his eyes to admire her soft mounds. Her nipples were taught with excitement and she could think of nothing more than the feel of him taking a firm peak between his lips and rolling his tongue over it. He mimicked the act in her mouth, thrusting his tongue temptingly around hers as his hands caressed her eager breasts. She breathed hard, panting excitedly and he pulled his mouth from hers, kissing the length of her jaw and neck to her collarbone and lower, until finally, he reached her breasts. He kissed every part of them, progressing slowly until he reached her nipple. He took one between his lips and Arianna drew in her breath sharply, need twisting almost painfully as it touched every inch of her like tiny shards of mind-numbing sexual desire.
“Oh Desmond,” she breathed and tangled her fingers in his hair.
He began kissing her other breast as he unfastened the button of her jeans. He slid them down past her hips and she lifted each foot as he slid them off. Then he removed her silky thong underwear and a quiver of enjoyment wound about her core. He was about to kiss lower, to delve into the deepest part of her womanhood when she stopped him. She did not want it to be that way. She wanted to feel him first, feel his bare skin against hers. She knelt and pulled at his shirt. He obliged by lifting his arms and she pulled it over his head. She tugged at his shoulder gently, before his mouth touched the soft curls between her legs and he looked up at her questioningly. She gestured for him to stand and he rose to his feet slowly, allowing his eyes to languidly roam over her naked body.
His act made her reconsider her decision to cuddle first as need pooled low in her belly, his eyes fondling every part of her seductively. The need for him to be inside of her moved her and was nearly her undoing. She closed the distance between them and pressed her chest to his. She felt his heat, felt his swell of excitement against her waist. She slid her hand over it and it was he who drew in his breath sharply this time. He groaned and cupped her bare bottom in his hands, lifting her. She wrapped her legs around him and he carried her to the couch.
“Desmond,” she breathed. “To hell with the prophecy, take me now.”
Her mention of the prophecy seemed to splash on him like a bucket of ice water. Desmond pushed himself up, away from her, up onto his hands, his body hovering over her. She hooked a leg around his thigh.
“I want you,” she said lustfully.
“No,” he whispered and shock immobilized her.
“What?” she asked and did not bother to hide her surprise and frustration.
“No, we can’t,” he panted.
“No? What the hell do you mean no?” she asked, hurt and rejection lacing her every word.
“I mean we can’t do this.”
“What the fuck Desmond? We can’t do this? We already started something! What the hell is your problem?”
Her hurt and frustration quickly segued into anger. She was naked and they’d been about to make love a second ago and that was the moment he decided it was a bad idea.
“You belong to another,” he said tightly. “It is your fate.”
“I belong to no one,” she said firmly and pushed his arms away as she sat up. “And fuck fate!”
“Arianna, it’s not that simple, you know that,” he began but she cut him off.
“Yes, Desmond, it is,” she said through her teeth as she scrambled to cover herself with throw pillows. She felt vulnerable, more than she had in all her life. She was exposed in every sense of the word and wanted nothing more than to put her guard back in place, where it had always been. “Get out,” she breathed. She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly, fighting back tears.
“Arianna, wait,” he tried, but she did not want to hear another explanation of why they couldn’t be together, or the newest crazy nonsense that she was destined to be with someone else.
“Get out, now!” she hissed. “And don’t come back.”
The set of her jaw and the look in her eyes warned him not to say another word, that he had hurt her beyond repair. She watched, feeling the weight of the world crushing her chest, as he dressed then turned and walked out the front door. She wished he would have teleported. Watching him go had hurt far worse than it would have had he just vanished from her sight as he had in the past.
For several moments, Arianna sat on her couch, naked in more ways than just the obvious, and stared at her front door. She did not know what she expected it to do. Burst open maybe with Desmond on the other side screaming, “To hell with rules and prophecies! You’re my woman!” No, nothing that dramatic; in fact, she expected nothing at all. That was how her entire life had been. She’d gotten nothing from it, and she expected nothing from it, nothing except heartache. She could not wrap her mind around what had just happened. One minute, they had been lost in passion and the next, he was spouting about
her fate and how she belonged to another. She had no idea what any of it meant. She vaguely remembered him saying something similar at Kane’s church. Of course, they hadn’t been naked and about to make love at the time. Regardless, it sounded familiar. She could not remember exactly what he’d said. Much of that day remained blurry, a horrific, nightmarish blur. She guessed none of what he’d said mattered. He’d made himself clear. They could not be together. And he’d rejected her when she’d thought it impossible for a man to reject a woman: with her naked and begging for him from beneath him. But he had.
Intense, indescribable embarrassment consumed her, burned up her body until it settled on her neck and cheeks. She stood and began picking up her clothes. She slipped her sweater over her head then her underwear and her pants with tears stinging her eyes. She was about to walk to the kitchen and unpack to distract herself when she felt her knees buckle. She collapsed onto the couch. Sobs racked her body, tears of shame and anger, of helplessness and confusion. Was her life already laid out for her? Had some ancient seer predicted her future? Did it include a life of loneliness and misery? Desmond had said she belonged to another. She wondered what the hell that meant. She wanted Desmond, not this mystery person he’d spoken of. And with her luck, the other man would not be a man at all, but some awful troll of a being she’d be forced to spend eternity with.
Too many questions turned in her mind. Surely someone had the answers, someone willing to share them. Desmond merely offered her cryptic clips. She did not know where he’d gotten his information from or how he’d gotten it, but she wanted to know more. It was her damn life, after all.
Arianna wiped her eyes with the bottom of her sweater and walked to the kitchen, determined to finish unpacking the kitchen, at the very least, and to make a conscious effort to forget about Desmond.
Chapter 5
Streaks of sherbet orange colored the early morning sky. For the first time in her life, Arianna had awakened without the blaring of an alarm clock. Her eyes had simply popped open of their own accord to see a violet predawn canvas giving way to ribbons of salmon pink. The view from her bedroom was nothing short of breathtaking and would take little time getting used to. Her last bedroom had boasted scenery through a rectangular sliver of a window that had included an oversized satellite dish and the top of the trailer beside it. Between those two eyesores, she had only been able to glimpse a slice of the outdoors. To say her new view was better than the old was a gross understatement.
Arianna Rose: The Gathering (Part 3) Page 4
