He rose without warning, and my eyes widened. This time I did look away, because goodness, he was …
Every inch of him was beautiful.
Because I had no sense of propriety whatsoever, I peeked over at him. His back was to me as he dipped his head over the sink, wetting his hair. Then he added some shampoo. That was all. No conditioner. Within five seconds, he’d washed his hair out in the sink, no worry about tangles and knots the size of my fist.
Such a dude—a dude with a lovely backside.
He was turning back to me, and I averted my gaze. “You going to join me now?” I asked, hoping my request sounded mysterious and sexy, and not as high-pitched and squeaky as it did to my own ears.
“Nothing in this world could stop me,” he replied. “Not even a marching band. They’d just get an eyeful of my goodies and have to deal with it.”
“Goodies?” Laughing, I scooted forward. The water lapped at my back as he stepped into the tub behind me and sat. I was trying to play it cool, but I felt as if I were seconds away from a heart attack. “They’d probably enjoy their eyeful.”
“You did.”
Smiling, I dropped my forehead to my knee. “I can’t deny that.”
“I wouldn’t want you to.” His legs slid against my hips, the hair along his calves sending a riot of shivers through me.
Taking a deep breath, I lifted my head and leaned back just enough that my front was no longer plastered to my legs. He touched first the center of my back and then brushed my wet hair over one shoulder. A heartbeat passed, and I felt just the tips of his fingers on my waist. A moment later, his lips touched the nape of my neck. I bit down on my lip as I reached back, curling my fingers around his hands. I guided them forward as I uncurled my legs and straightened.
“Wait.” His hands left my skin, his arms wrapping around me as he reached for the bar of soap. I watched him lather up his hands again before placing the soap back on the ledge. His hands returned to my upper arms, sweeping down, the backs of his fingers grazing the sides of my breasts, causing me to jolt.
“Just being helpful,” he said in a gravelly voice.
“So helpful,” I murmured.
His soapy, slick hands continued on, back up my arms and then down, over my lower stomach. His hands left only long enough to soap back up, and then his palms were skating up my ribs and higher, lingering until I was clutching his legs and doing everything in me not to squirm.
“Making sure you’re squeaky clean,” he said against my ear.
“Uh-huh.”
He chuckled darkly as his hands slipped into the water, and then he was retracing his earlier steps, washing away the soap with a washcloth that had to have appeared out of thin air. The material did strange, interesting things to my skin, but then he had that soap in his hand again.
“Lean back.” His request was a rough one I immediately obeyed.
The contact of my back to his chest and my hips against him was a wonderful, exquisitely pleasing feeling, but it was quickly overwhelmed when his hands were making their way over my hips and my legs. He lifted one, hooking it over the edge of the tub, and then his fingers were slipping over my skin, back into the water.
I kicked my back against his shoulder, my entire body pounding. “You’re being very thorough.”
“Of course I am.” His voice was like smoke. “I’m a perfectionist.”
My hips jerked, rising out of the water as a sharp, intense throb shot through me. I reached back with one hand, clasping the back of Luc’s head.
“I don’t want to miss a spot,” he continued. “You should make sure I don’t miss one.”
I was.
My eyes were open, fixed on how the lantern light flickered over the water and our legs. I was fixated on the way the tendons along his hand flexed as I tugged on his head. He didn’t resist, kissing my neck and then blazing a trail up along the line of my jaw as I turned my head toward him. His lips met mine, and his kiss was full of hunger.
There were no more pauses for soap as my other hand cupped his, feeling those tendons I’d watched move against my palm. The aching pulse intensified as we kissed and kissed, our bodies slipping against each other and the sides of the tub. We both were taking quick, shallow breaths that were nothing more than pants. I felt like a rope stretched too tight as I pulled away and lowered my leg back to the water.
Placing my hands on the sides of the tub, I turned, sliding my knees on either side of his legs. It wasn’t at all graceful. Water sloshed everywhere, and my right knee banged into the tub. My palms were slippery, and they were trembling. His hands landed on my hips, steadying me.
“Thank you,” I whispered, switching my hands to his shoulders.
Eyes heavy-hooded, he shook his head. “I should be the one thanking you.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“That’s where you’re so wrong.” His hands flexed, but stayed at my hips. “You’re giving me everything I’ve ever wanted or needed. You always have.”
His words rattled me to my very core, and for a moment, I couldn’t move. My heart was squeezing and expanding in the best possible ways, because I knew he wasn’t talking about just this. He was talking about me.
If I’d had any reservations about what we were doing, they would’ve jumped out the tub at that point, but I didn’t have one doubt, one hesitation. Every part of my being knew this was the right moment. This was the right time, and I thought I’d felt sure before, even with my ex, Brandon, but I’d been wrong, because I never felt like this before. Like this moment could freeze for eternity and it wouldn’t be long enough. Like this second couldn’t possibly pass fast enough and when it did it was still too slow. Like I couldn’t understand how or why we’d waited until now and yet be so very glad that we did, because this moment felt right.
I slid my knees to his hips as I sank my fingers into his wet hair. His grip tightened as I settled in his lap, shivering at the ragged sound he made.
Our lips met, and this kiss was powerful and deep as all the ones that came before it, but it was different. There was an edge of urgency to it, one that caused muscles low in my stomach to curl. My body moved in response, out of instinct, and when his hands slipped beyond my hips, tugging me more fully against him, I could feel the same fierce intensity building inside him. He trembled against me, and I could almost imagine that his control was a thin veneer, only moments away from cracking.
But Luc had handed over the reins to me. He’d done so the moment he’d climbed into the tub, letting me guide where his hands, his lips went. He’d given up all control in this.
I broke the kiss, his chest rising and falling heavily against mine. “We can stop,” I whispered as I let my forehead rest against his. “We can do anything you want.”
One of Luc’s hands swept up my back to curl around the nape of my neck. “I want exactly what you want.”
I shivered as I slid a hand down his damp chest and then lower, under the water. His back arched, and the way he said my name as my hand touched him kissed my skin. I lifted up just enough, and then there was just him and me and the strangled sound he made against my lips.
Neither of us moved for several long, stuttered heartbeats. There was a pinch of pain that was more of a discomfort as I adjusted to the feeling. Luc was just as still, his body hardened with tension.
Drawing in a shallow breath, I tipped my body forward, kissing him. Both of his hands tightened, one tangling in my hair at the back of my neck, the other digging into my flesh.
“Evie. God,” he breathed, shuddering when I moved tentatively. “I…”
My hands were back on his shoulders. “Is this okay?”
“It’s more than okay.” His lips touched mine. “It’s perfect. It’s just that I thought about how this would feel. Hell, I probably thought about it too much.” He pulled me against him more tightly, wringing a gasp from me and a groan from himself. “But I never knew it could feel like this. I had no damn idea, Evie. None
.”
“Me, either,” I said, and that was the truth.
Our mouths came together, and I began to move once more, slowly as I tried to soak in how he felt against me, in me, and how every inch of my skin became hypersensitive. My heart was thundering in my chest, completely lost and unprepared for the heady wave of sensations that seemed to sweep through me, through us.
Then, in the center of the keen madness, a bolt of fear pierced me. What if I did forget again? There was still a chance. There’d always be a chance. What if I had no memory of the beauty of these moments, the bliss of this? I could—
“I love you, Evie.” One of his arms was curled around my waist, holding me so tightly to his chest as his hips chased the rhythm of mine. “You won’t ever forget that. You won’t ever forget this. Neither will I. It’s impossible.”
My fingers dug into his shoulders and then tugged at his hair. “Impossible,” I repeated, opening my eyes to lock with the raw stare of his.
Eyes locked, there was no sense of rhythm at that point, no thought of the water swelling and falling, only to rise again, spilling over the rim. There was a rattling and then a creaking of the slowly swaying bathroom door. Soft white light flickered along his shoulders, and I looked down us, beyond his chest and mine, to where a constellation of dark dots appeared along my stomach, moving and twisting with my body—with our bodies.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, his hand finding the spots and following them over the curve of my hip. “You’re so beautiful.”
I felt like that in the moment. How could I not? And there was no room for words. There was just us, and how we felt for each other, and that became a potent force, electrifying the space until I could hear the crackling of the air around us charging with the Source, lighting up the very air we breathed, as if the bathroom were suddenly full of a thousand fireflies, a stunning display of just how powerful our love for each other was.
19
“It’s weird,” Luc was saying sometime later. We were lying in bed, neither of us speaking while he played with my hair and I used his chest as a pillow. I’d been lying there trying to determine if my vision was better than before I slept, because I couldn’t remember being able to see the room so clearly, or if it were my imagination. “Sex is weird,” he added. “I mean that in a good way, but it’s like my brain is having a hard time processing it. Like it doesn’t change anything, but it changes everything. I know that doesn’t make sense.”
“It does make sense.” I smiled, because I’d been wondering if Luc had noticed how being in each other’s arms felt more intimate now or if it just felt that way to me. “When I did it before, it was sort of … really awkward afterward. Like it was over and we both were like … okay. That’s it? Or at least that was how it felt for me. It was done, and I think he said something nice, and then rolled over and started messing around on his phone.”
“It doesn’t feel that way for you now, does it?”
I lifted my head so I could see him. “It doesn’t feel anything like that, Luc. I feel comfortable and completely at ease being like this.” My gaze searched his in the dim light. “What does it feel like for you?”
“Better than I could’ve ever imagined. It feels like words would be inadequate even I tried to even describe it.”
“Does it bother you that this wasn’t my first time?”
“Honest? It doesn’t bother me. Not in the way you meant. Was I jealous? Of course, but that’s on me. And like I said before, it’s not like I’ve kept my hands to myself over the years.” He touched my cheek. “You were living. I was living. That’s all any of that was.”
My smile returned, and I stretched up, kissing him. His hand slipped back into my hair as I settled against him once more. Silence fell between us, and for some reason, my mind wandered its way to what Grayson had said before I had gotten dizzy.
“How long has Grayson been here?” I asked.
“Well, he arrived at the zone around the same time we did, perhaps a few seconds—”
“That’s not what I meant. Was he born here, on Earth, or was he a recent arrival?”
He looked at me for a few moments, and then his lashes lifted. “That’s another impressively random question. Let me guess. Something Grayson said?”
“Yes. He said Kent was the first human he met and that he was sixteen when that happened. Unless Grayson is aging incredibly gracefully, that couldn’t have been more than a couple of years ago.”
“He met Kent four years ago.”
I sucked in a sharp inhale. “Grayson was…” I lowered my voice for some bizarre reason. Wasn’t like anyone was hanging around in the closet listening to us. “Did he come with the invasion?”
Those lashes lifted. “I think you already know the answer to that.”
Wow. I had so many questions. “Is that why he seems to hate humans?”
“Grayson is an equal opportunity species hater,” he murmured.
That was believable. “How did you two meet? Did he want to kill humans?” Another thing occurred to me. “That means he rapidly assimilated a human’s DNA to look like us! He took someone else’s face! Did he want to put us in people zoos?”
“People zoos?” Luc chuckled under his breath. “I can tell you that he didn’t kill innocent humans. Well, not many, at least.”
My brows lifted. Not many? Uh …
“He’s not a bad guy, despite what he has done and despite his less-than-stellar personality, and I know you’re dying to know all about Grayson, but a lot of that—all of that—isn’t my story to tell. It’s Grayson’s. I have to respect that.”
Which was his way of asking me to respect it, too. It was killing me not to ask a million questions and demand answers. I’d never met one of the invading Luxen—well, at least I didn’t think I had. Hell, I could’ve and never known.
But knowing that Grayson legitimately hadn’t been around humans until four years ago explained why he seemed to stand out so much from humans, unlike the majority of Luxen who’d been here for decades or been around humans since birth. No wonder he felt so … inhuman.
Honest to God, I wasn’t sure how to feel knowing that Grayson had been a part of the invading Luxen. But he hadn’t killed innocent people—well, other than whoever’s face and body he’d stolen, Invasion of the Body Snatchers–style … and however many “not many” actually was. Okay. That was semantics, but if Luc trusted him, there had to be a reason, one that went beyond pesky moral gray areas.
Luc twisted my hair around his finger. “I think you heard my thoughts earlier.”
I lifted my head again, no longer thinking remotely of Grayson. “What?”
“I think you heard my thoughts,” he repeated, looking incredibly cozy with his arm tucked behind his head.
“I can’t hear your thoughts.”
“But you did.” He tilted his chin toward me. “When I left to get the doc, what did I say?”
My head was still a little all over the place, so it took me a moment to remember. “You said you didn’t want to leave.”
One side of his lip quirked. “But I didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did.” I rose onto an elbow, bracing myself on Luc’s chest. “I heard you.”
“I didn’t say it out loud, Peaches. I thought it,” he explained. “And when we were talking about everything after the doc left, you heard me again.”
“When?”
“I thought, ‘I caused this,’ and you answered as if I’d spoken the words out loud, but I hadn’t.”
All I could do was stare at him. My first response was to deny that was possible. There was still a huge part of me that operated on the belief that I was an ordinary human. After all, I’d had years and years of being just that.
But if Luc said he hadn’t spoken out loud, there was no reason he’d lie. I’d heard his thoughts.
I heard his thoughts.
Holy crap!
“How?” I exclaimed. “How did I hear your thoughts?”
“Like what?”
His eyes closed. “I’ve healed you several times.”
“Like after Micah?” I hadn’t just gotten banged up in my fight with that Origin. I’d been near death.
“Yes. You were always getting yourself in trouble. Falling down and cutting open a knee or a hand. Once, you broke your arm,” he said, his tone light. “Another time, it was your right foot.”
The corners of my lips turned down. “It sounds like I was a klutz.”
“You weren’t a klutz. You were simply fearless.” His eyes opened. “You would always jump before looking.”
“Well, now it sounds like I was a badass.”
“You’re a badass now,” he told me. “And when you first got sick, I attempted to heal you. I know hybrids can often telepathically communicate with the Luxen who mutated them. So, it could be that. Even though I didn’t mutate you, you were given the other serums that helped mutate other hybrids.”
“I want to try now.” I popped upward, pushing off his chest. Luc grunted. “See if I can read your mind.”
“Okay,” he murmured, eyes going half-mast.
I drew in a deep breath and shook out my shoulders. I had no idea what I was supposed to do, but I figured it should require concentration.
Silence filled the room. Nothing but silence.
“I hear nothing.”
“I’m not really thinking anything,” he murmured. “Sort of really distracted at the moment.”
“Why?” It was then when I remembered that I was naked. “Luc!”
“Sorry.” He chuckled. “But it’s probably a good thing you don’t know what I’m thinking right now. Well, not thinking. More like picturing—”
“You need to focus.” I started to scramble over him, but my gaze landed on the stack of shirts on the dresser that belonged to him. They were the ones that had already been here, brought over by Dee a few days ago.
The Brightest Night Page 24
