“Fuck, Serina, you can barely stand.” His gaze softened as he went to the dresser to grab me some clothes. I sat down on the bed again, but when he shifted and kneeled in front of me, I pulled back.
“What are you doing?” I asked as he gently grabbed my ankle and slipped my leg through one of the holes of my lacey panties.
“Dressing you,” he replied plainly, as if it was just a normal thing to do. “Is that a problem,little monster?” His voice was rough, his breath skimming across my upper thighs as he tugged my panties the rest of the way up my legs, and his calloused hands ran over the sides of my hips.
My breath hitched as he lingered there watching my body react to him. A grin curved his lips as he went to put my pants on. He nodded for me to remove the towel, and I scowled at him, grabbing the shirt.
I scoffed, “I think I can handle that myself.”
“Though I’m sure you have lovely breasts, I want to see your side, Serina,” he said, and I lifted the towel so he could examine it, feeling a hint of embarrassment at thinking he was wanting to watch me put my shirt on. “It looks better than it did. Come on, let’s get home.”
With that, he stood, and I gave him a twirl with my finger to turn around.
He grinned at me but did as instructed and gave me his back as I quickly threw the shirt on over my head, all of my muscles screaming from such a simple action.
“Alright, I'm ready,” I said, and he turned toward me and helped me to my feet, tugging me into his muscular body.
“Oh, and Serina, if that’s how your body responds while I’m dressing you, I can’t wait to see what happens when I strip you bare,” he teased.
My mouth fell wide open. For once in my life, I didn’t know what to say. My façade cracked. I wanted to argue with him, to tell him it would never happen, but the attraction was there, and I couldn’t deny it even if I tried.
I fell asleep in his car on the short drive back to their mansion. The pain meds had kicked in, and I wasn’t hurting as bad anymore.
In my daze I felt suddenly weightless, and then my cheek pressed against Bastian’s hard chest; I knew it was him because the scent had become familiar to me.
Pomegranates and pine.
That seems like a bad sign.
I knew I shouldn’t have found a sense of comfort in it, but I did, and the thought made me try to wrench my head away from his chest. He merely used the hand tucked under my shoulders to place my head back, and I was too tired to fight.
After the shuffle of footsteps, I felt him lay me on silky sheets, and I let myself fall completely asleep as darkness overtook me.
I woke in the middle of the night needing to relieve myself, surprised that no nightmares had come for me.
I walked out of the bedroom to a quiet house other than the sound of water running—a shower.
I took careful steps down the stairs and as I rounded the corner, I found that the bathroom door was open. The darker hair and mess of tattoos everywhere let me know it was Nox through the frosted shower curtain. I could see the curve of his ass and his back flexing as he held his head under the water, scrubbing at his hair.
Pink-tinged water fell freely from his head, and I wondered who he had killed. Was it a human? Or had he murdered someone else trying to find the answers we needed?
My mind fought with my body because the man was beautiful. Even through the frosted curtain, I could see the toned outline of his physique, and the thoughts I had running through my mind of him had no business being there, especially if he had killed someone innocent.
But was I any better anymore? I had killed that Werewolf and those Vampires in the alley without a second thought.
I still didn’t trust them, and I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to. I wiped my hands over my flushed face and quickly headed back toward my room. There had to be another bathroom in this house.
In my haste to get back to my room, I moved up the stairs quickly and ran into a hard chest—Thorne’s chest. I jumped.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. What are you doing awake?” he asked, looking me over. “Nightmares?”
Why does he ask as if he already knows they plague me? Why does he have to care? Why is his heart so soft? And for fuck’s sake, why are they all so attractive?
“I was looking for the bathroom. The one downstairs is… occupied.” I fumbled over my words, and he nodded for me to follow him down the hall. It was the second door on the right, two doors down from my room. Well, Bastian’s room.
He still never told me why he didn’t just give me a room of my own. I was sure there were more rooms here.
“Thanks,” I said as he went into the room directly across from me. Thorne’s room, noted.
