Wanted (16 page)

Conor moved forward a step and gripped the back of the chair. “If you’re afraid, Ash, it won’t work. I can’t force you.” His mouth drooped. My mom moved behind me, keeping her hands on me the entire time.

I shook my head. “I’m not. I’m not afraid.”

He raised a shoulder, face ashen. “Maybe you are and you just don’t want to admit it to yourself,” he said softly.

A sharp pain stabbed my stomach, making me gasp. Conor looked away.

“I have to go,” he whispered.

“Conor,” I protested, clutching my stomach as another pain shot through me.

He grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He locked stares with my mom before bending to kiss my forehead, his lips a cool whisper against my hot skin.

Straightening, he touched my face with the lightest of caresses, lips pulling into a sad smile. “I’ll come by tomorrow.” He looked up to my mom. “I’m sorry.”

I wanted to get up and stop him from leaving, but my body felt as though someone was pushing down on my shoulders, holding me to my chair. My stomach still ached with a gnawing hunger that seemed to burn as it consumed my insides.

“Conor.” It came out a whisper.

His eyes drifted to my face once more before he turned and left. At the sound of the front door closing, my body faded back to normal. As the leaden feeling, as well as the pain, left, I felt foolish. Had I imagined that hunger? Not being able to move to him?

Mom came around and sat in the chair Conor had vacated. “Are you okay now?” Her forehead wrinkled with concern.

I nodded out of habit. I wasn’t really okay. In less than an hour, Conor would be biting someone else, and it would feel intimate. That girl would want him, want him like I wanted him. She would want his hands on her, bodies pressed together. I closed my eyes. He was supposed to be mine now. Why wouldn’t he just feed from me? Oh, yeah, because apparently my subconscious feared him. Why couldn’t I stop him from leaving?

“I kept you here.” My mom’s soft words resonated through my mind.

My gaze shot to her. “What?”

“I was afraid of what would happen if he bit you now, before you have control. You had to let him go tonight. Your power knew his hunger and it reacted.”

Had I been feeling his hunger? “How will we get through Friday night if my power won’t let him bite me?”

Mom pressed her lips together. “We’ll just have to teach you control before then. You should probably spend as much time with Conor as possible, so you can be more comfortable with him. Once he’s fed tonight, he should be fine for the next couple days.”

Control. In two days. That meant no dishes flying when Conor went to bite me. In two days. Right.

Sleep evaded me. I tossed and turned in my bed, unable to get comfortable. Thoughts of Conor with another girl invaded my head and kept me from being able to relax completely. I knew it was necessary, but I didn’t have to like it.

As I flopped to my back for the hundredth time, a noise at my window froze me. I reached out with my senses as another tap came at the glass. Would Tre break into my house? The window slid open and terror washed over me as I sucked in a breath to scream.

“Ash?” Conor whispered.

I sat up, air whooshing out of me.

“Conor?” I watched him crawl through the window and stand in the middle of my room, in the dark.

Glancing at the glowing numbers of my bedside clock, I saw it was almost one o’clock.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered in shock, clutching my covers to my chest. I wore my customary PJs of boxer shorts and tank top, and felt strangely exposed.

He stood at the side of the bed, looming over me, eyes intense in the glow of the clock.

“I just fed. I—needed to see you.” His voice was ragged as he reached for me, pulling me out of bed to stand in front of him.

“I need you,” he whispered before he kissed me. His mouth demanded my lips, his hands hot and needy on my skin. His passion stunned me, freezing me for a moment before my body melted against his, arms wrapping around him. A soft groan came from him and he pushed me gently backward onto the bed. Our mouths drank at each other.

He lay next to me, pulling me tight to him, and buried his face in my neck. I held him as he struggled to slow his breathing.

“I don’t want to ever do that again,” he moaned.

“What?”

He raised his face to hover just centimeters from mine. He brushed hair off my face.

“Feed from someone else,” he explained. “I don’t want to ever feed from someone who isn’t you, ever.”

I cupped his cheek. “Okay. You won’t have to. What happened?” I dreaded the answer.

“Nothing. It just felt wrong. I had to see you, feel you. I have to erase the taste of her from my mouth.”

My stomach tightened at the word “her.” I pulled his face to mine. “Let’s make sure she’s thoroughly erased.” I kissed him, hands on his face, fingers buried in his hair.

He pulled my leg over his, pressing us even closer together, his hand scorching on my bare skin. My pulse pounded in my ears, rapid and strong. It was soon joined with another beat, faster, stronger: Conor’s.

It only took a moment before they beat out the same rhythm, and I knew nothing except Conor. His mouth on mine, his hands on my skin, his warmth surrounding me, my hands on his waist. I buried myself in his face, his chest, his skin smooth, warm, and solid.

We continued, lost, for what seemed like eternity before he broke the connection, gasping. He rested his forehead on mine, eyes closed. I could just glimpse the tips of his fangs, and for some reason, that made my heart beat faster. I wanted him to bite me, right here, right now. Maybe if he just distracted me enough, my subconscious would let him do it.

“I’m glad you picked me,” he whispered. “I think you’re a part of my soul. If you hadn’t chosen me, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

I entwined our fingers, squeezing gently. “I honestly don’t think there was ever a doubt I wanted to pick you. I was just afraid you didn’t really like me.”

Conor narrowed his eyes at me. “Center yourself and concentrate.”

I closed my eyes and obeyed, his soft voice soothing me. “Go deep, to your core. What do you feel?”

It was hard to focus with his body next to mine, his hands on my skin. I took deep breaths and forced myself to ignore the heat from his nearness, the overwhelming sensations of him lying in my bed next to me.

Our heartbeats remained merged and I relished in the sound, letting the rhythm pull me deeper, to my core, where my heart beat. I felt almost complete, almost whole, almost fulfilled. He was so much of what made me feel so close to whole, yet I noticed there was something missing, something I had yet to find. I didn’t want to focus on the missing part, though. I wanted to focus on how much a part of me Conor so obviously was.

“Yes,” he whispered, our noses touching.

My eyes fluttered open to see his. “What’s the missing part?”

His eyebrows drew together in thought. “Not sure. I figured it would fill in when we completed the familiar bond.”

That made sense. He kissed me gently and eased himself off the bed, leaving me cold. “I better go. I’m going to school in the morning, but I’ll be here to spend the afternoon to help you, okay?”

I sat up and nodded. “Are you better?” I wanted to make sure he was okay before he left.

He sighed and smiled, running a hand over his hair. “Yes. All I needed was you. The next person I feed from will be you. And you’ll be the last. I hope you can stand me for that long,” he teased.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, totally. I hope I don’t get bored.” I laughed at him.

“I’ll do my best,” he promised. “See you tomorrow.” He left the way he came, through the window. I burrowed under the covers and discovered it was a lot easier to sleep.

* * * *

The fire blazed in Conor’s library, bathing the room in soft, orange light. I stood, gazing into the flames, in a dress the color of Conor’s eyes. My hair was piled on top of my head, neck bare.

“Are you ready?” Conor’s voice caressed my skin, making me shiver, even in the warmth of the fire. Pretty sure I’d had this same dream before.

I turned with an anticipatory smile, but froze as I spied both Conor and Matt standing before me, waiting. For some amazing reason, the boys were shirtless. Conor stood tall, all long and lean sculpted muscles. Matt was broader, more built, a little more sculpted. Okay, so not the same dream.

My breath caught in my throat at the sight of my two boys before me. Both of whom I loved, in different ways. I appreciated the beauty of each of them. Still, I was confused.

“What?” I didn’t even know what to ask. Matt pierced me with the gaze of his blue eyes and moved to stand behind me, his warmth so familiar.

“It won’t hurt, I promise,” he whispered in my right ear, and I eased. I believed him, my soul believed him. The calm acceptance that seeped through my body, relaxing me and warming me, made me aware that Matt belonged here in this moment. It had such a sense of rightness.

I looked down abruptly as his warm hand grasped my waist. When I looked up, Conor had moved to stand directly in front of me. He smiled a grin full of promise, seduction, anticipation. His hand gripped my other hip and I was encased in warmth from the two boys.

Conor leaned to my left and I cried out as two pairs of fangs pierced my skin at the same time. Oh, they’d been right. It felt—amazing, like nothing I’d ever experienced. My knees gave out and I sank bonelessly against Matt’s strong chest. I grasped at Conor to help me stay upright as they both drank from me, one strong body in front of me, one behind. Waves of ecstasy wracked my body and I was weightless.

My heartbeat merged with Conor’s again and they beat as one. Now, a third joined our rhythm as Matt’s pulse added a deeper, stronger beat to mine and Conor’s music. I was wrapped up in between my two boys, the three of us making a complete whole. Finally.

* * * *

My eyes flew open with the shrill screams of my alarm. I shot up in bed, suddenly wide awake.

“Holy shit,” I muttered, remembering the details of the dream. The scene, the boys, the feel of them, the pleasure. Sweat poured from my skin, yet I shivered. What the hell did that dream mean? Why did I dream I was in a vampire threesome with Conor and Matt, both half-naked? No more making out before bedtime.

My body reacted to the sensations of the dream: pulse racing, panting breaths. It was just a dream, just a dream, I told myself, willing my body to calm. I looked at the clock, knowing my parents would be up and almost ready to leave. I got out my dream journal and filled in the eerie details of my latest nocturnal freak out.

During dinner the previous night, my mom and I had filled my dad in on everything. He seemed to take it better than Mom had, assuring her it was probably the best thing for me. I was so relieved, having been afraid Dad would try to greet Conor with a shotgun the next time he came over. Actually, I wasn’t sure Dad even owned a gun, but he was a strong enough witch to do harm without needing physical weapons.

I hopped out of bed and jogged down the stairs, trying to leave the remnants of the befuddling dream behind. My parents puttered in the kitchen, getting ready to leave. Gabby sat at the table, sleepily eating her cereal. Mom looked up as I entered.

“Morning, baby.” She smiled at me. I blushed, hoping she couldn’t tell Conor had snuck into my room last night or that I’d had a crazy, totally inappropriate dream.

“Morning,” I murmured, going to the fridge.

Dad kissed my head. “Ma brought some books down for you that will help you with your control, okay? Study hard. I love you.” He ruffled my hair before leaving the kitchen.

Mom hugged me. “We’re behind you, sweetheart. I know you’ll be fine. Okay?” She pulled back to look me in the eyes, smoothing my hair. It seemed she was on board the Ashlinn becomes a familiar train. Yay, me. It would be easier, though, with her on my side.

I nodded. “Thanks, Mom. Um, Conor’s probably going to come over this afternoon to help me, okay?”

She hesitated. “Work downstairs, please? I’m just not ready for you to have boys in your bedroom when we’re not here.” She smiled.

I blushed again, remembering him being in my room last night. “Okay, Ma. Promise.” I laughed. She gathered Gabby and left, and I was alone with the images from my dream still flashing through my mind.

* * * *

I spent all day working on my control. I centered, grounded, and relaxed, concentrating on my power center. When Conor came over, I continued with more of the same. It wasn’t as easy with him sitting in the same room. When he leaned in and breathed on me, things flew. Literally. My book whipped up and soared across the room. Yeah. I needed more practice.

We moved all breakables out of the room and resumed my exercises. Once I could ground and center without him distracting me, I worked on manipulating things around me, levitating various non-fragile items from around the room. Every time Conor got close, the floating object went out of control.

By dinnertime, my body ached with fatigue and my brain felt like mush from all the concentrating. My mom and dad had come home from work, checked in on us, and left us alone. Now, Mom stuck her head in the family room.

“Ash, Conor, I made dinner. Take a break.”

I stood and stretched, working out the tightness in my muscles. Conor stood next to me and massaged the muscles in my shoulders with his strong fingers. Sighing, I relaxed into his hands as we moved awkwardly toward the kitchen.

“You did good today,” he murmured. “I’m proud of you. At the end there, you actually floated the pillow for five whole seconds before it attacked me.”

“You kissed me. That was totally unfair,” I protested.

We laughed as we joined my family at the kitchen table.

“I had to push you. Tomorrow night will be even worse.” His laughter cut off abruptly as his smile faded.

My parents exchanged a look, though they remained quiet as we ate. I hadn’t heard from Matt all day, which surprised me. Maybe he was giving me time. However, I couldn’t think of him without thinking of that crazy dream I’d had—which I had not told Conor about—so I was kind of glad for Matt’s radio silence.