Brazen: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 2)
Page 16
“You as well,” I reply. I wait for us to make it in the hall to say, “You know, Nate, this permission stuff is getting on my nerves.”
“It’s only because you don’t know how to control it, and you don’t trust people you don’t know.”
And I don’t. If I speak to the wrong person and they’re. . . I don’t know what makes some Sephlems attracted to you and others not, but because of my uncertainty; I get a little uneasy. But I’d like to decide on my own. “Well, how do I control it? Because it’s embarrassing and degrading.”
Nathan shrugs a shoulder. “For now, the best way would be to read me and my actions. For most people, my type of people, I’ll let you know not to speak.”
“How am I supposed to read your actions?” I snap. “You’re the hardest person to read who ever walked the earth. You can be angry with the happiest face.”
He nods. “I’ve heard that.”
“So, reading your actions is out of the question. Maybe if you would let me get into your thick skull, it’d be easier.”
“No.”
“Why not? You let me do it while we are . . . you know.”
“Fu—”
I throw up my mind. “Don’t say it.”
He laughs. “I told you, Sparks. If you get into my head, you’ll only see you. Like when you’ve snuck in there before. Every inch is filled with you. Plus, I don’t think, I just act. I can’t have what’s going on in my head and your thoughts in my head at the same time.” He shrugs. “If that makes any sense.”
“Then let me take on your thoughts while you take on mine.”
“No. Because then I’ll still be thinking about my thoughts in your thoughts.”
I scratch my head. “Fine.” Scott had said something about Glen demanding him to her. I’ll try that. “Nathan,” I bark.
He halts.
Good sign! “You better let me in your head right now!” I demand and point my finger.
Nathan slowly turns on his heels, fixing me with intense eyes and a single hitched brow. With a forced smirk, he replies, “Do not say my name like that anymore.”
Dang, didn’t work. I shrug. “It was worth a try.”
He cracks up, laughing loudly. “I love you, Sparks.” He waves for us to continue down the stairs. “But seriously, don’t say my name like that. I don’t like what it did to me.”
“Okay. The Nathan part I got right. Just the rest of my demand was inadequate?”
“That wouldn’t have worked either way.” He quickly shuts me down. “But different ways you say my name affect me differently.”
I follow him to our left, heading toward the great room. “How so?”
“Hmm.” He thinks, tilting his head back, eyes closed. “Like when you moan my name.” He rubs the back of his neck, smirking. “That makes me want to lose control and in a bad, good way. Best shit I’ve ever heard.”
I bite my lip, fighting my blush. “O-Kay.”
He meets my eyes. “When you’re afraid and you call my name, it puts up a protective barrier, and I have to calm myself not to go demon and kill whatever scared you. Unless they need to be murdered.”
I nod. “I can see that.”
“When you’re happy and you say my name, it makes me happy. But that, what you did just there, made me alert, immobile, like you were about to do something to me. I even blocked myself from you.” He drapes his arm over my shoulder.
“I’m not getting that, but at least I’ll know how to get your attention,” I tell him, pushing open the doors to the great room.
“You always have my attention.”
The wall-sized window, overlooking the beach, welcomes in large beams of sunlight. It brightens the now, flawless room. The great room looks as if it hadn’t been touched. Every accent piece, couch, chair, and wall are in their place. The wood-paneled walls shine from the fresh varnishing reflecting the sun. It darkens the yellow to a satin, orange, casting a hazy-like glow over the room. To my far left, near the entertainment side of the great room, is a floor-to-ceiling bookcase that’d been shredded but is now brand new. The sulky feeling that stuck in this room is gone, and I spin on my toes with my arms out at my sides, taking in the rejuvenating feeling it now gives off. Its air smells of sweet strawberries that remind me of Pailen. Not one sign of Natalia’s tantrum that took the room by tornado, hurricane, and earthquake. She had pieces of wood sticking out of books, glass was shattered, and the couches were flipped and shredded. She was hurt and angry, and a lot of it came from losing Papa Nathan, her daughter, and dealing with Taylor and Nathan. Initially, I thought Nathan got his fury and escalated tantrums from his father. But, I was way wrong. Natalia is totally the bearer of that egg.
When my parents come over, we’ll likely meet in this room, have dinner in the dining room, and then the majority of the family will either go their ways or come back in here.
“What are you thinking, Sparky?” Nathan nods, admiring the perfection of the room.
“This meet and greet. You should know.” I pause. “You want to know something?”
He laughs. “What?”
“You’re a relationship cheater.” I wiggle out of his arms that he wraps around my waist. “You’re the biggest douchebag on the planet, but adjust yourself to be perfect for me. Being in my head gives you an upper hand, and I have a feeling you use it to your advantage.”
He pulls his eyebrows together, causing two lines to form in their middle. “What makes me a douchebag?”
“I see you, Nathan. How Scott talked about you, the sinister way you treat people, tricking them and messing with their heads, even the way you treated girls. You never delete your text messages, by the way. I’m surprised these chicks haven’t keyed your car!”
“I’ve only bagged one crazy girl.Had I known she was nuts, I never would’ve touched her,” he breaks in to say.
“Anyway,” I sing. “Then how you talk to your guy friends with the explicit vulgarities you use. You’re an entirely different person than the man you give me.” I poke his chest and walk away.
He crooks a finger in my jean’s pocket and yanks me back to him. His arm hooks around my neck from behind me and his lips move against my ear as he whispers, “Do I speak to you that way? Am I a douchebag to you? Have I bagged and dumped you?”
“No.”
“Then that’s all you should be concerned with. Who cares how I treated those girls? They weren’t you. They were just around to entertain me. Gave me something to do. And Scott’s no better than I am. Believe me. I’ll talk the way I want to, as long as I don’t disrespect you when I do so. I treat people differently because I don’t want them trying to figure me out.” He spins me around to face him. “It’s like playing poker. If you have a good hand, and you look excited, everyone will fold, and you’ll get a small pot. But, if they can’t see a tell on your face, they let their guard down, assuming they have the better hand.” He makes his brows jump in a ‘get it’ gesture.
“Eh,” I utter, watching his lips as he continues.
“And by the way, you get the better half of me. Soft Nathan, caring Nathan, loving Nathan. Everyone else gets the ruthless Nathan. So, no, I’m not a cheater and yes, I do know what you want, and maybe it does give me an upper hand in satisfying you. But that’s the way it’s supposed to be. The man is supposed to know his woman. If I didn’t, there’d be a problem.”
“Probably. But, please, continue.”
His melodious voice is a solace to the havoc that is always imposed on me. I can’t make out the words, just hear his voice. I watch his tongue move and his lips shape around every word. I lick my lips, calming the sudden urge to go in for a taste. I keep expecting there to be some kind of in between with my need for him. For me to find some balance between the bond and rationality. But there isn’t. There’s only I can take it or give me every ounce of you right-freaking-now. His familiarity makes it worse, knowing what he tastes like and how it will lift me off this rock and send me soaring through the
stars. Argh, he’s just so damn addicting, and a small taste only exacerbates the craving. Crap! I hate it and love it.
Nathan continues gabbing and whatever it is he’s saying falls short of my eardrums. He’s into it, though, accommodating his lyrics with altering facial expressions. Hazel eyes shift, never resting on anything as his brows knit, hitch, furrow, or relax. The always-constant brown in his eyes slowly circles clockwise and counterclockwise around his black pupils, relaying, at this moment, that he is content. At some point, probably when he was in the bathroom this morning, he shaved, trimming his beard and mustache. It’s a clean cut, eliminating the scruff. I rub it, adoring the shorter hairs tickling my fingertips. I push my hand further back, letting it dive into a sea of soft silkiness. He’s let it grow out an inch longer where before, he wore it tapered.
I blink, letting the thin film blanket my eyes. Uncovered, raw, and innocent, my mate’s not a drop-dead gorgeous monster trapped inside of a human’s body, but a being concealed by a burden the world’s made him believe is his beast, his evil, his monster. Even flushed red with malevolent night eyes, teeth sharp enough to tear through my neck, touch strong enough to crush my bones, and a monstrous anger that chills my skin just by his voice, he’s imperfectly perfect enough to grind my gears and take me to nirvana all at the same time. I adore all his imperfections. I just hope he looks at me through the same eyes. A sight that doesn’t force him to find love in me, a sight that doesn’t demand he care for me, but a sight that sees through me because he wants to, not the mating or the bonding.
Sparks?
I jump at the sound of his voice pulling me from my thoughts. “Huh?”
“I’ve got twenty-twenty for you.”
I glare at him through the blur of my lashes. “How can you talk and listen at the same time?” Walking around him, I head for the door, going back over my thoughts. He stays back, letting me have my moment.
I push the heavy door closed and turn to place my back to it. When I meet Nathan’s eyes, the smile I tried to hold back breaks through. I’m not letting him go that easily.
Standing a little over ten feet from me, he narrows his eyes, capturing me with their swirl. I hitch a brow and wonder if we’re thinking the same thing.
Watching me, he squares his shoulders, and the calling creeps over me. I shake my head. He licks his lips and slides his hand over his chin. As the calling comes again, the demand tickles my nerves and I’m itching to close the distance. He often challenges me to see if I can hold back from his silent calling. I always lose this game.
I lean my head back against the door and rub the front of my neck, leaving my hand resting there. He can never resist it when I part my lips and lower my lids just enough to still see him. I will him to me.
The muscles in his face relax, but he bites back his bottom lip.
“Crap,” I sigh. I can never resist that.
Just as I’m giving in, he appears right before me with hypnotizing, ocean blue eyes. “Why are you playing knowing we only have a few hours before your parents get in?”
“Why do you have to look like that and have so many restrictions?”
“What do you mean by restrictions?” he questions with a tight smirk that lifts only the right side of his mouth.
“I can’t have you whenever and however I want.”
“Aw,” he groans. “The same reason you do.” His thumb brushes across my bottom lip. “If you only knew the many ways I want to have you.”
I kiss it. “You have no restrictions with me.” It falls away and rises to his lips. He kisses it.
He bends down and lifts me on his rise, holding me up by my thighs as he’s pinning me against the door. “Yeah?”
“Yes. Let me show you.”
“Mmm,” he hums with a low rumble in his chest. Wrapping my legs around him, I bring him closer and feel the vibration from his hum against my lips.
My heart pounds when our tongues brush. Nathan’s mouth smiles against mine, and I promise myself, once again, that I’ll get used to him one day soon.
Burying my fingers in his hair, I want him closer, even though there’s nowhere else for him to go. Our lips twist as our tongues dance, igniting my passion, sending me so close to over, I titter-tot on the edge. It’s never enough. If I could just find full, maybe then. . . But no. I’m still stuck between falling and landing.
I growl, meeting the halfway mark. I’d beg for it, but I have no idea what I’d be begging for.
The door beside us swings open, and I find relief and aggression rising because of it.
Shuffling to separate, Nathan and I innocently look at his mother.
“Not in the great room, son. We meet in here,” Natalia says, looking away from us.
I lick my lips, savoring his taste. We’ll have to revisit that later. “Hey, Mom,” I greet with a smile.
Her eyes brighten. “Hi, Tracey. I enjoy hearing you say that. You know we love you around here.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re always welcome.”
“And thanks for that, too.”
“We weren’t doing anything, Mother.” She must’ve mentioned something to him silently. “Just first base.”
Natalia throws her hand up. “That looked like way more than first base, Nathan.” Felt like more too. “That was more like second base and running.”
I laugh, embarrassed. Moms just keep busting us today.
“Good point.” Nathan points at me, then turns back to her. “Spark’s mom, Karen.” He slips behind me. “She caught us in Spark’s bed this morning,” he states in a low voice.
Natalia’s eyes widen.
I move from between them. No way will I be caught in that cross fire. Natalia can kick some serious ass.
Nathan glares at me with hitched brows and questioning eyes. What happened to you helping protect me? he asks in a high-pitch voice.
I swore to protect your heart, I correct, laughing. No way am I standing in the way of your mom. You’re on your own, hot stuff.
“Please tell me you two weren’t doing,” Natalia moves her hand between us and the door, “that. What you were just doing there.”
“No,” Nathan drags. “We weren’t. We were asleep.”
Natalia visibly releases a breath.
“I’m telling you because you two will meet today and she might bring it up. She also knows Sparks has been spending the night over here and you knew about it.”
Natalia waves her hands in front of Nathan’s face. “Son, don’t tell me anything else. I’m going to have to try to make it seem like I don’t support your actions for being so romantically advanced with our daughter.” Our daughter, huh? “I only have one question.”
“Okay. . ?”
“Does she know you two are bound?” The real question: does she know you two have sex?
“Let us try to lean away from those conversations,” I cut in. “If you don’t mind.”
She throws up her hands. “Works for me. Why don’t you two go cool off and check on the basement? They may need some help down there. Now, this is why mating shouldn’t happen until the persons are adults. It’d be much better if fate thought that one out. Now get out of here.” She pushes us from the great room and closes the door once we’re out.
seen invisible
The basement was the worst, other than Glen and Scott’s old room that no one has stepped foot in even to fix it. They fixed the wall so there wasn’t an enormous hole in the hall, but no one will go into the room. I refuse even to look at it.
I follow behind Nathan to the basement. My stomach flutters with embarrassment. Our frequently interrupted make-out sessions are becoming routine.
“We’ll work on that addiction, Sparky,” Nathan says, opening the basement’s door.
“Stay out of my head,” I warn, passing him. “I’m not addicted.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, okay,” he sings derisively.
“You’re a jerk,” I add, galloping down the stairs.
“What are we supposed to do down here? Besides needing to patch that hole from when you went Super-Hulk, everything’s done.”
He meets me in the middle of the floor, looking over the area. “I was angry.”
I pat his back. “That goes without saying.”
He stuffs his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “We have family coming in tomorrow. They may stay down here. They aren’t into the big family and being crowded lifestyle.”
“Really? Is it safe for others to come?” With these random attacks, it seems inappropriate to have company.
“Yeah. Our enemies aren’t after them.” We head back upstairs as a few construction workers come down with the equipment to patch up the wall. When we make it to the landing, Nathan continues, “Just you, me, Olar, and Taylor. Everybody else is safe.”
“Why not Scott?”
“Scott’s never done anything but be around.” He directs me toward the family room, extending his arms to our left. “He’s only really spazzed out since he met Glen, but he’s been under control since he was born. The golden boy,” he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
I chuckle. “Are you jealous?”
“I used to be, before, when everyone would speak highly of him. I got over it. And knowing that I was worse off than he was and I haven’t tried to slaughter you, we see who the golden boy really is.”
I nudge him. “That sounded cocky.”
The corners of his mouth turn downward. “It was.”
We have to pass Scott and Glen’s old room to make it to the family room. Avoiding looking in its direction, I scurry past it. Every time I glance at the wall or the door, I’m attacked by images of the events I still haven’t fully remembered. It’s bad, and my vision ability makes it worse. Nathan says I forgot because I wanted to, not because I was forced to. He said something about it being post-traumatic stress.
Whatever. I still think he did something.