Page 38 of White Noise

It’s warm, electric, and deep enough that my muscles tighten without permission.

Silas inhales beside my ear.

“Fuck.”

“Get off me.”

I twist against him, but his other hand closes around my waist and holds me in place.

“Do you have any idea what you feel like to me?”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“No.” His mouth hovers near my ear without touching it. “You’re too busy pretending you don’t feel me back.”

The static pulses again, stronger this time, and my body reacts before my brain can catch up. My breath catches, my stomach tightens, and heat spreads low enough that embarrassment burns straight through the fear.

Silas goes still for half a second.

Then a low sound rolls through his chest.

“Oh, that’s fucking interesting.”

“Shut up.”

His grip tightens at my waist.

“Pretty little human body. So easy to read.”

“I said shut up.”

“And I said I can feel you.”

I drive my heel down onto his boot.

He doesn’t even flinch.

“Seriously?”

“Worth trying.”

A laugh vibrates through him before he turns me and backs me into the edge of the island. My lower back hits the counter, and suddenly he’s in front of me, crowding into the space until there’s nowhere left to go.

Up close, he looks almost human.

Almost.

His skin is warm and solid, but every few seconds something flickers along the edge of his shoulder, a brief distortion that looks like static trapped beneath his skin before smoothing itself out again.

His black eyes drag over my face.

“You were a lot braver when there was distance between us.”

“I’m still brave.”

“No.” His fingers wrap around my wrist again, thumb resting over my pulse. “You’re scared out of your fucking mind.”

I hate that he can feel it. I hate even more that fear isn’t the only thing he can feel anymore.