I fought to free myself, but my arms were tied at my side. Fear gave me strength, but it wasn’t enough to overpower three grown, overweight men.
And where had my grandmother gone? I whipped my face from side-to-side. My vision blurred as I tried to search for the inevitable next threat. The monster.
Ironic that he would choose to inhabit the monster I tried to survive on a daily basis.
I screamed again as soon as I could breathe. In the distance, I heard the door slam, and suddenly the weight on my gut was gone. My vision was hazy, blurred by tears and whatever was still coursing through my system. I thought I saw Thorn’s golden hair and Aaron’s black hair near my feet.
“It’s okay.” Colton’s voice was in my ear, and I knew I had to be hallucinating.
“Let’s go.” Oliver leaned over me. His dark eyes were angry, and his face was set in tight, stressed lines. “You’re okay now.”
I wanted to argue, but a deeper, more instinctive part of me knew I was safe. And with that, I gave into my fear and exhaustion, and passed out.
I woke up to rapid conversation and the sounds of sirens in the distance. I jolted up, once again, my heart in my ears. My chest was tight. What was happening now? Was I going to die? Was I…
“Easy.” Oliver pressed a hand to my forehead. “You’re okay. You’re safe now.” He touched my cheek.
I tried to talk through the pressure in my chest. Okay. I was panicking. Either that, or I was having a heart attack. Could I be having a heart attack? I was almost eighteen years old. Could almost-eighteen-year-olds have heart attacks? I grabbed onto my chest. It had to be panic. It had to…
“Shh.” Oliver held me against him. “You’re okay. It’s totally normal for you to be feeling this way. The first time I spent an extended period of time with a monster, I couldn’t calm or breathe for a week. Deep breaths, and let me hold you. It’s going to be okay. You’re safe.”
I was safe. I said that phrase in my head over and over. “Sirens?” Okay. I was getting one word out, and apparently that was it. Had they called the cops? They were going to take me away. I’d never get out of here now. I’d…
“Not for you,” he whispered in my ear. “They don’t know anything about you. They’re here for your grandmother. She had a stroke.”
I stared at him, just trying to concentrate on my breathing. The pressure in my chest lessoned a bit. A stroke? I forced my voice to come. “Is she going to be okay? She was the monster. Or the monster was her.”
He nodded. “Your gran was probably having her stroke, or had it in the bedroom the whole time the shapeshifter was there.” He palmed my cheek. “You’re going to be okay.”
“Hey.” Thorn ran over. “She’s awake.”
I was, sort of, even though this whole thing felt surreal. He sat down on the bed. I was on a bed? Where was I? Oliver held my gaze and answered my unasked question. “My house. My mother is with your grandmother now. They don’t know what happened in there, and they won’t unless you want them to. The reverend and his cohorts took off like their asses were on fire.”
Tie down a girl, and they were big men. The police get involved, and suddenly they can’t run fast enough. But I didn’t want anyone else to know what happened. That wasn’t going to help me get out of this town any faster.
Thorn pulled me into a hug. “You are soaking wet and covered in some kind of oil. It’s all over you.”
I tried to pull back. I was weak, and the breathing thing wasn’t perfect yet. “Sorry, I’ll…”
“No.” Thorn picked me up. “Don’t you dare say sorry. You’ve done nothing wrong. Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Colton and Aaron came through the door. The latter ran in front of Thorn. “Towels are in the closet. Let me show you.”
“What’s going on?” Colton looked at me in Thorn’s arms. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to get her cleaned off. You heard what Oliver said before. She needs to be comfortable and rested.”
A phone rang across the room, and Oliver got off the bed to go get it. “Dad?”
I turned my attention back to Thorn. “I don’t know that I can stand. I’m having a little trouble breathing. Or I’m panicking, or…” I tried to slow down. “Something.”
He nodded. “I’m going to help you.”
I leaned my head against Thorn’s chest as he stood in the hallway, waiting for Aaron to get towels. On the wall were family portraits. Jacinda and Ray at their wedding. A baby swaddled tight in a blue blanket with a knit hat on his head. A family portrait. All of it looked so normal.
“Do you get certificates for monster hunting?” I asked, not really making sense.
“Huh?” Aaron placed a couple of fluffy towels on my lap.
Thorn adjusted his grip on me, squeezing me a little tighter to him.
“Do you have to take classes? Is it online? University of Monster Hunting online? Study at night while you work?” That sounded snarky.
“Okay,” Thorn said. “Let’s get this stuff off of you.”
“I’ve been anointed in holy oils,” I intoned. For some reason, I found the idea of being slimy with frankincense or myrrh to be hilarious and started giggling.
Thorn placed me on the toilet and turned away. He fiddled with the shower as I tried to get my giggling and breathing coordinated. “Monsters cause panic attacks.” I sounded like I’d run a marathon. “That makes sense.”
Thorn glanced at me as he stood with his hand under the shower stream. “Keep breathing,” he said. “In and out.” He shook the water off his hand, toed off his boots, and pulled off his socks.
“Are you covered in oils, too?” I had no idea what he was doing.
Kneeling in front of me, he rested his hands on my knees. “Just my shirt,” he said. He leaned down to take off my shoes and socks. It spoke to just how out of it I was that I didn’t argue when his hands went to my jeans.
The bathroom was starting to get steamy, and sweat dripped down my back. Thorn tugged my shirt over my head, and I let him.
“I was drowning,” I said. My voice came out robotic, not at all like me. My emotions were swinging like a pendulum. One minute I was giggling, the next disconnected. “I’m so cold.”
Thorn ran a face cloth under the tap and then gently placed it at the back of my neck. “I’ll stand under the stream, and we’ll adjust the temp so it’s comfortable.”
“Okay,” I replied. I pushed my jeans down my thighs, lifting my butt only enough to get them past it.
“Can you stand up?” he asked.
He held out a hand to me, and I took it. My knees shook and my ankles wobbled, but I stood. “There you go,” he said, his smile proud, even though his eyes were sad. “There’s my tough Lacey.”
Tough Lacey was ready to fly apart. Breathing deeply, I choked on the scent of whatever was on me. Suddenly, I had to get it off. I could feel it coating my face, neck, and arms. I could feel it in my ears and in my hair.
I pushed past Thorn but stumbled. He caught me by the waist and then lifted me up over the lip of the tub and into the shower. Then he turned me, keeping his back to the spray, and enfolded me in his arms.
I was in my underwear, and he had to be getting soaked in his clothes. “You have to be miserable getting wet like this.”
“I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.” He kissed the top of my head, leaving his mouth there for a long moment. “I just want to get you clean, and then I want to get you warm. I’ve been wet before. I’ll be fine. What happened to you… Well, I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
I never had either. “I couldn’t have imagined it, until it was happening.”
He stroked his finger down my back from the tip of my neck to the place right over my bra strap. I shivered, and I had no idea if it was from shock, terror, or the fact that I really, really liked having Thorn do that. I closed my eyes. He moved his lips from the top of my head to my temple and kissed me there.
With s
teadier hands than I had, he undid my bra. He threw it out of the shower. Breathing was still hard, but the heat—and Thorn—were helping.
“It occurs to me,” I managed to say, “that this is not the first time you’re seeing me naked.”
He dropped his lips to my shoulder. “That was ten years ago. I was eight. You were seven, almost eight.” He pulled my undies down my legs, and I stepped out of them. “This feels a little bit different than that. There are no red ants crawling all over our clothes. We’re not totally unaware that the other person is the opposite sex.”
Oh, he was right about that. Very, very different. I was completely aware. The water rolled over both of us. It was warm. Better pressure than we had in my house.
Thorn grabbed the soap. He rubbed it in his hands before he set it down and put his palms on my body. I shuddered. I couldn’t help myself. Maybe I’d be embarrassed later that I’d so visibly shown my response to him. Right then, I couldn’t bring myself to care. Not when he used his hands to wash the oil off my body.
He made a sound in the back of his throat that I’d never heard from him before. It was somewhere between a moan and a sigh. “Lacey.” He kissed my other shoulder.
I leaned back on him. His jeans had to be sticking to him in the most uncomfortable of ways. Still, he drew me closer to him, stopping his hands on my stomach to grab the soap again. So far, his hands had stayed in very PG places. I wouldn’t complain if he went to R rated, but it wasn’t happening yet.
He rubbed his hands over my hips before he handed me the soap. “You do have oil on your…” Thorn cleared his throat just as his hips ground slightly into my backside. He was hard. I could feel it. “Breasts.” He said the last word very quickly. “I think you probably want to clean yourself there.”
Self-doubt assailed me. Was he saying that because he didn’t want to touch me? He was hard, but that could just be from having greased up tits in his face. My tough Lacey. That was what he called me. It was time to be tough. Or if not tough, then unafraid.
“I want you to touch me,” I whispered. My admission was so quiet, I wondered if he could even hear me.
He sucked in a breath so loud, it overshadowed the sound of the water. Reaching past me, he snagged a bottle of body wash, and the next thing I knew, his hands were skimming over my collarbone and smoothing over my skin.
Oh my god. I’d never felt anything like that. Movies showed women losing their minds when a man touched her breasts, and I’d always thought, what’s the big deal?
This. This was the big deal. My body erupted in all-over goosebumps, and I began to shake. Thorn pulled me back against him, fingers still sliding and doing magical things to my nipples.
I moved one hand, trying to wrap it around his waist. His clothes were plastered to his body, but I managed to get one hand under his shirt to touch his skin.
Thorn groaned and rocked into my back. Keeping one hand on my breast, he skimmed the other down, down to my stomach. The scent of coconut and vanilla filled the shower, making me feel like I was in some kind of orgasmic love scene where a couple meets under a secret waterfall in the jungle.
Or something.
His hand stayed right where it was, kneading the skin on my stomach but not going any farther.
Well, fuck that. I wanted his touch. If it felt good with his hand on my breast, what would it feel like to have his hand between my legs?
“Touch me,” I told him.
“Lacey.” He kissed my ear before I turned my neck and caught his lips in a kiss. His tongue dueled with mine, pushing past my lips, gliding over mine. He nipped and licked and sucked, but those hands stayed in place.
I was going out of my mind. Needy little sounds snuck up my throat, and my hips canted back and forth, grinding into his denim covered length.
My entire body pulsed with need, but he still. Would. Not. Touch. Me.
Fuck this. I spun in his arms and pushed him against the tile. There was a lip around the edge of the tub, and I propped one leg on it. I pressed into him, trying to get him where I needed him. The ache was driving me crazy. I pulled away long enough to beg, “Please, Thorn.”
He groaned, adjusting until his knee was between my legs and I could push against him. That was what I needed—friction. Our bodies knew what to do, even if we didn’t. We kissed, hands fumbling over each other, trying to find skin, and when we could, gripping hard.
He let out a little cry, and I pulled back, afraid I’d hurt him, only to see his skin had flushed bright red and his jaw clenched. I loved seeing him out of control like this.
He shook his head, biting down on his bottom lip. His eyes were closed. “Fuck. I just… never mind.” He took a couple of deep breaths before he looked down at me. The truth dawned on me. Oh… that had happened.
My own cheeks heated up. We’d been rubbing up against each other and—yeah, I’d been close, too, I thought. Maybe. I had never successfully gotten myself anywhere near as close as that had been.
I reached up and kissed his chin. The pressure was still in my chest, but it faded in other places that had been begging for attention.
He ran a hand through my hair. “You’re so beautiful and… I guess I just…”
We really didn’t have to discuss it. I’d loved being close to him like this. “Thorn, let’s not…”
“Okay,” he answered before I finished. “I want to make sure you—”
Now it was my turn to cut him off. “I’ll just use the soap for a second and then… I’m a prune, and you’ve got to be sick to death of being in wet clothes.”
“You know I really only meant to help you get clean.”
I smiled at him. “You did that. And then some.”
He grinned at me, and I quickly washed the remaining oil off as best I could. He shut off the water, wrapping me in a towel before he stepped out of the shower. In fast movements, he shed himself of his clothes, and I stared at him in awe. He’d put on muscle in the last year. He looked over his shoulder at me. “I suppose it’s only fair you get to look. I did.”
I winked at him.
Thorn picked me up fast, dropping his towel and setting me on the counter. We stared at each other. “I’m never going to let anything happen to you again.”
I let out a long breath. I supposed we were both dealing in impossibilities in this bathroom. Me with the idea that this moment wouldn’t shatter the second we opened the bathroom door. Him with the idea that he was ever going to be able to keep me safe from anything.
But I wanted to play along more than anything in the whole world. I wanted the impossible. And to never be on the floor while a psycho tried to exorcise me again. “I know you won’t.”
He nodded like he was glad I’d said that before he kissed me hard.
I knew almost nothing about Thorn’s sexual history. I’d been kissed, that was it. But the girls in school had been all over this guy who was in here with me, the one kissing me like he needed me in order to breathe. I was sure he had massive amounts of more experience than me.
What had happened in the shower aside, I really didn’t know what I was doing. Not even a little bit.
He pulled back to look at me. “I can’t believe I get to kiss you.”
“Do you want me to… do anything for you?”
Thorn smirked. It was the most ridiculous look, and I wanted to kiss it off his face. He shook his head. “You’ve done quite a lot for me, Lacey. What I really want is to do something for you.”
A knock sounded on the door. “Guys, my mom is leaving Lacey’s house.”
It was Aaron. Guilt at what we’d just been doing flooded me. I’d had Aaron in my bed the night before, and now Thorn in the shower. I’d always held to the idea that I wasn’t a slut. That I wasn’t what people said I was. But a little attention, and look what I’d done.
“Right,” Thorn called out.
Shame brought tears I wouldn’t shed to my eyes.
“What is that?” he asked, bending his knees to see i
nto my face. “Why are you crying?”
I sniffed. “I’m not crying.” I wasn’t.
Thorn frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but there was a knock on the door again. “I’m really sorry guys, but you might want to…”
“Go,” I said to him, “get changed before she comes in. I’d rather not solidify my reputation as a slut with another mother.”
“Lace—”
I opened the door and pushed him through.
Thorn left me in the bathroom. I stood in the midst of our wet clothes and tried to get myself together. He didn’t want to leave me here, I could see that.
I went to the mirror and wiped away the condensation that covered it.
There was a tap on the door. “Lacey?” It was Aaron’s mom.
I opened the door a crack. “Hi.” I hoped the heat from the bathroom masked the fact that my face was flushed from having done other things than shower.
“Hi,” she replied softly. Her gaze studied my face, and she frowned. “Oh, Lacey. Oh, you poor girl.”
She said that now, but would she still think I was a poor girl when she learned her son spent the night in my room. “I should have had Aaron wait for you. Or wait under the bed…” She shook her head. “But it seemed stupid to have him hanging out in your house for twenty-four hours.”
Hold up. Did she know he’d spent the night with me?
Jacinda smiled, like she could tell exactly where my mind went. “I brought you some clothes. Why don’t you get changed, and we’ll have the conversation we should have had a long time ago?”
Eleven
In a borrowed pair of jeans and soft t-shirt, I was as physically comfortable as I could be.
Mentally, though? I was a freaking mess. Jacinda, Oliver, and Aaron sat across from me on their plush sofa, while I had staked out a spot on a loveseat. I was surprised when Colton wedged himself next to me and winked at Thorn.
“Let’s start at the beginning,” Jacinda said, and glanced at her oldest son. “Oliver?”
“Right.” Oliver had his dark hair braided, and one end sat on his shoulder. His dark eyes were intense, holding mine so I couldn’t look away. “I’m a Scout.”
Eyes in the Darkness (The Coveted) Page 9
