Mengliad (The Mengliad Series Book 1)

by Jana Janeway

  Gathering her into his arms, he whispered, “Your parents?” She nodded in response, but said nothing. “Talk to me, Jess. I think it’ll help.”

  Faltering, she finally admitted, “I miss them already.”

  The anguish in her voice caused his heart to ache. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “They won’t allow me to go to the funeral, will they?”

  “Probably not. The Purists, assuming you might, will be there looking for you.”

  Nodding, she moved and turned away from him. “I’m feeling guilty.”

  Respecting the distance she created, he stayed where he was. “You shouldn’t. It’s not your fault you can’t go.”

  “Yes, it is,” she countered, her back still to him, “but that’s not why I’m feeling guilty. At the moment.”

  “Then, why are you?”

  Instead of answering, she asked in return, “Is it really okay to feel happy, even a little bit, so soon after they. . .?”

  Stepping around to in front of her, he touched her chin to gain her attention. Her tear filled eyes met his concerned ones. “It is,” he insisted, nodding for emphasis.

  She mentally digested that for a moment, silently. Maybe Craddock was right. Maybe it was okay to feel both grief and happiness, but focus on the latter. With the former being a source of great pain, she decided to change the subject. “How do you like the room?”

  The randomness of the question confused him. “What room? This room?”

  “No,” she shot back sarcastically, “the outhouse ‘round back! Yes, this room!”

  The joke was an avoidance ploy, but he didn’t call her on it. If she wasn’t ready to fully face her parents’ death, he certainly wouldn’t force her to. Following her lead, he retorted, “And I thought we had indoor plumbing.”

  “Ha, ha,” she mock laughed. Her smirk faded when he gently took hold of her waist, as his smile slipped away as well.

  “It’s a beautiful room.” Inconspicuously, he closed the gap between them, until he was pressing a soft kiss to her lips, and then another. His arms slowly snaked around her, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. Soon, soft and tentative made way for needy and passionate.

  Their lungs demanding air, he begrudgingly removed his lips from hers, but only enough so he could whisper against them. “Do you think the bed’s as comfy as it looks?”

  She smirked at the implication. “I think there’s only one way to find out.”

  Permission given to proceed, he told her playfully, “Ya’know, I think you’re right,” as he took her hand and led her the short distance to the bed. Once there, he turned to face her. “I’m glad you’re happy with the house.”

  “I know it’s a weird set of circumstances,” she prefaced, sounding amazed by her own revelation, “but I really think I am. And with more than just the house.”

  The subtext of her simple comment brought a subtle, knowing grin to his face.

  “Good.” He kissed the palm of her hand, releasing it before turning to climb into bed. He assumed she would be following, but as he shifted onto his side, he saw that she had remained standing where she was, making no move to join him. “Is something wrong?”

  “It’s weird,” she said with a shrug, “but now that this is about to happen, I’m nervous.”

  His smile returned, but it was more to put her at ease than of amusement. “I’m not gonna jump you or anything.” His tone held the slightest hint of humor, but he swallowed it as he patted the mattress beside him. “Just come get comfy, okay? We’ll chat for a bit, and then the rest will just fall into place.”

  Timidly, she inched onto the bed, keeping more than just a sliver of space between them as she adjusted her position and settled in. Lying flat on her back, her body stiff, she stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide and scarcely blinking.

  When his laughter earned him a glare, he choked off the sound and cleared his throat, remorseful in an instant for upsetting her.

  “Sorry, it’s just, you look so. . . tense.”

  “I am tense. I don’t know why,” she answered his unasked question a second later.

  “I make you nervous.” He wasn’t asking her. It was a statement of fact.

  “Yeah.” There was no point in denying it. She knew he could feel her just as easily as she could him, possibly more so. Her attention back on the ceiling, she had to force herself to breathe when her body reminded her to.

  “You don’t need to be,” he assured her. “You’re safe with me.”

  “I know. I’m not scared of you, I’m just. . .”

  When she trailed off, he slowly slid his hand onto her abdomen, resting it there cautiously. “Tell me about when you were hurt before.”

  He wanted to know, but he was also trying to distract her, not that she was unaware of that. She just didn’t mind, and in actuality, was somewhat grateful for the temporary diversion.

  “It’s really not all that interesting a story. It’s not like he beat me or anything.” She shrugged, picking a different point to begin at. “I had been dating Tim for a little over six months. And it seemed to be going well, so I stupidly told him one night that I loved him. He got weird and distant after that. I knew something was wrong, but it took me over a week to get up the nerve to ask him. When I finally did, he told me that he wasn’t ready for love. He thought we were just having fun. He wasn’t interested in having a serious relationship, so he dumped me. That night.

  “And as if that wasn’t hard enough,” she continued, “a month later, he announces that he’s engaged to be married, to a girl he’d only known for two weeks!”

  “Ouch,” he whispered, and she scoffed at the understatement.

  “Yeah, ouch. He seemed to take some kind of perverse pleasure in flaunting his relationship with her in my face! And it wasn’t like I could avoid him! He was my neighbor across the hall at the time. When he finally moved out, right before his wedding, which he had the gall to invite me to, by the way, it was easier to get over him. Move on. But by then the damage had been done, so to speak.”

  “So now,” he ventured, “for you, saying ‘I love you’ is synonymous with dump city, and heartbreak.”

  “Yeah.” She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, the emotional vulnerability of the moment affecting her.

  “Baby,” he inched closer to her, “you don’t have to worry about that with me. It’s safe to say the words.” He removed her glasses, prompting her to open her eyes, which she did, only to be met by his intense gaze.

  “I’m working on it,” she assured him, her breath hitching as he leaned in and brushed his lips across hers.

  “Good.” He reached past her, setting her glasses on the bedside table, and then he removed his own and placed them next to hers before settling back in.

  Draping his arm over her, he snuggled up against her, resting his head on her pillow near hers, his chin just barely in contact with her shoulder. Silence followed, dragging on for minutes, until her quiet voice finally broke it.

  “Are we going to sleep now?”

  “Well, we could,” he laughed, teasing her a little, “but I don’t think that’s what you really want. And I know it’s not what I want.”

  “What do you want?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

  “You,” he whispered, “but I’m willing to wait, till you’re a little less nervous.”

  “I’m fine, Craddock.”

  He shook his head gently in response, in disagreement. “Your emotions are all over the map right now. I don’t know exactly why, but the fact that they are tells me we need to take this slow.”

  “Slow, sure,” she agreed, appreciative of his sensitivity, “but we’re not going slow. At the moment, we’re just. . . lying here.”

  He smirked, looking a bit sheepish. “I was kinda waiting for some cue from you, on when to, ya’know, make my move.”

  “Consider this your official cue to make it.” Her smile was restrained, and then it dissolved into something
far more serious when he propped himself up on his elbow and stared over at her.

  Time stood still as he contemplated the exact wording of what he wanted to ask her, but sensing her confused impatience, he quickly used the only sentence that came to him. “Are there any boundaries?”

  Her nerves on edge again, but more from anticipation than from anxiety, she shook her head slowly in answer, pushing her thoughts from her mind so she could better attune herself to what he was thinking and feeling. The intensity surprised her, but before she could fully wrap her brain around it, his lips were on hers.

  The kiss was slow and sensual, soft and gentle, but it didn’t remain so for long. Desire took over, in both of them, and as hands wandered, breathing became labored, their hearts racing almost to the point of causing pain, though neither cared in the slightest at that moment.

  “It feels like some insanely prominent line is about to be crossed here,” she whispered, craning her neck to give him better access when his lips left hers and brushed a path towards it.

  “Meaning what?” His tongue flicked at her skin, wetting it, before planting a tender kiss and moving on to repeat the action elsewhere.

  “For some people, this is just fun, or nice, or maybe just a natural step in a relationship,” she explained with surprising clarity. “This feels more. . . real. Significant. Like, there’s more to it than just the act.”

  “God, you’re good at describing stuff,” he murmured as he continued caressing her with his lips. “And it is. Real. This is very real, and will change everything between us. Does that scare you?” He pulled back and initiated eye contact, knowing before she even answered what her response would be.

  “No,” she said, smiling. “Just. . . making conversation.”

  “Nervous conversation?” he half asked, half stated, smirking back. He laughed when she nodded. “Don’t be nervous.” His smile dropped. “This is going to be fantastic.”

  Nodding again, in agreement, she reached up and raked her fingers into his hair. Pulling him towards her, their lips collided forcefully. Moaning in approval, he kissed her with all the pent up passion of the last several days, his hand struggling to remain in appropriate places, the effort it took to do so causing his fingers to twitch against her.

  “Slowly,” he whispered breathlessly, panting as he nuzzled into her hair, attempting to downshift his affections.

  The connection between them was so open, so strong, that he knew she was going to say it before she even uttered a word. The knowledge came seconds before the declaration, however, giving him no time to adjust his surprise; it blended from anticipation to excited appreciation in one seamless emotional reaction.

  “I love you.”

  His heart was racing so fast, he thought for sure it would explode. Hers was, too, but for decidedly different reasons.

  “God, I love you, too.” Closing his eyes, he sighed, a slight smile inching onto his face. He had been wrong before. He did need to hear it. The rush of adrenalin was like an addictive drug he never wanted to detox from. “Thank you,” he whispered into her hair moments later; the courage it took for her to finally say it compelled him to acknowledge it.

  “For what?” she asked, though she was not as confused as the question and tone made her sound.

  “For trusting me enough to say it.”

  “I do trust you,” she assured him, then added with a joking lilt, “I married you, didn’t I?”

  He only laughed briefly at her quip, growing serious again. “I’m sorry you didn’t get a ceremony.”

  “Maybe someday.” She shrugged, trying not to let the pang of sadness show through. But he was so attuned to her at that moment, there was no way she could hide it.

  “If it’s within my power to give it to you,” he reminded her, “I would deny you nothing.”

  She wholly and completely believed that, his genuine sincerity not only in his voice, but woven into his entire being, which was as open to her as a book. Even more so than it was previously. “At the moment,” she whispered, “all I want is you.”

  “God, baby, I want you, too,” he breathed, assaulting her with gentle kisses, his need for her reaching an almost frenzied peak. “Say it again.” He knew she would understand what he was requesting.

  His affections began to take on a desperate quality, which she eagerly encouraged, moaning his name before whispering the words he begged her to repeat.

  “I love you.”

  “Those are my new favorite words,” he semi-joked, smiling when she laughed. He sighed contentedly, allowing himself to get lost in the sound of her happiness. His forced rhythmic breathing eased his extreme arousal, but only slightly.

  Taking his cue, she mimicked his pattern, settling herself as well before changing the subject. “How long do you think it’ll be, for them to tell me what I’m not supposed to know yet?”

  “Not sure,” he answered, his undemanding kisses starting up again. “I can’t imagine it’ll be long, though.”

  “I can’t imagine anything right now.” She scoffed at how true that statement was. “I feel lost in the middle of a weird dream I can’t wake up from. Where everything is upside down, and all the rules have changed.”

  He nodded, sympathetic. “One rule is still the same.”

  “What’s that?” She smirked when she felt him smile against her skin.

  Initiating eye contact once again, he answered with only the slightest of grins. “We have to be naked for this to work.”

  The Registry, the Purists, or whatever lay in store for her, or them, didn’t matter in that moment. All that mattered was the love shining in his eyes, and the overwhelming comfort she felt being in his arms. It was then that she knew—she was exactly where she wanted to be for the rest of her life.

  “Well, if those are the rules,” she quipped, “then who am I to break them?”

  Her nervousness was finally gone, her soul calling out to be one with his every bit as much as his was with hers, and it was the most electrifying sensation he had ever experienced.

  A soft smile appeared, then dropped, as his fingers inched beneath her dress, slowly up her body, the skin on skin contact thrilling him in ways he could scarcely wrap his brain around. “There is one more thing I should tell you,” he said, grinning at her reaction when his fingers brushed against taut flesh.

  “What’s that?” she asked around a moan, forcing her eyes not to close as he stirred her desires, her arousal climbing once again.

  Kissing her lips quickly, lingering against them, he whispered in a gentle, soothing tone, “This will be more intense.”

  That much she had figured out, but the way he attempted to ease her into the idea, to help her cope and adapt, caused her to smile back at him in appreciation.

  “I kinda had a feeling it would be.”

  Book 2 also available

  If Jessica thought becoming a Mengliad was difficult, she's even less prepared for life under the Registry’s control. With their endless restrictions and constant scrutiny, captivity is nearly unbearable. The only saving grace is her growing bond with Craddock Daniels, with whom she shares this confinement.

  What Craddock wants most is Jessica's happiness, and so he keeps certain truths from her, clinging to the hope that their imagined future together might still be possible. But even Craddock is shocked to learn that not everything is as it seems. It is much, much worse.

  On the run again, joined by old and new friends, Jessica and Craddock try to reclaim their freedom by taking on the Mengliad community's most powerful agency.

  Registry's Secrets, Book Two of The Mengliad Series:

  http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00N9S4WY0/

 

 

 
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