He took his mouth off of me and pulled back, and I fucking yowled in agony. I couldn’t see a damn thing in the darkness, so I was totally unprepared for what came next.

  His palm came down on my pussy, a sting so sudden and sharp that it brought the tears I’d barely been holding back to my eyes.

  “Need another? Or are you gonna be a good girl and shut up? No talking until I say so.”

  “Do it again,” I rasped, and by God he did, harder this time, so hard that my hips bucked off the bed.

  Then he buried his mouth inside me again, like he was trying to suffocate himself.

  Just when I thought I was going to die, he pulled away again, thrusting two fingers into my cunt while his thumb waged a full-out assault on my clit.

  “What a tight little hole you have here,” he murmured.

  “Is that what Malcolm said when he was taming your ass?” I gritted through my teeth.

  “Aww, don’t get nasty just because I won’t give you what you want, brat.” He laughed and then said casually, “Okay, you can come now.”

  And then I fell apart.

  “Was that an orgasm or a seizure?” He flopped down next to me when I finally came back to this planet.

  I laughed. “Both, I think.”

  We lay there like that for a few minutes. Tangled. Spent. Absolutely fucked—in every sense of the word.

  Finally, he said, “So. You feel better?”

  “Not really.”

  “I take that as a personal failure. Wanna go again?”

  “In ten minutes. Maybe twenty.”

  But instead, I fell asleep.

  It was the first time in days I hadn’t just laid awake, my brain full of thoughts, my heart full of misery.

  It was a deep, peaceful, dreamless rest, and when I woke, the sunlight streaming through the blinds told me I’d slept for hours. The clock confirmed it: it was 6:30 a.m.

  Kade still lay asleep beside me. He’d put the mask back on.

  Damn.

  I padded into the kitchen and stopped short. The broken kitchen table had been replaced—and Connor was sitting at it.

  He looked up, his crafty brown eyes dulled some. His gaze traveled slowly down my still-nude body. Then his lip curled in disgust, and he turned his head.

  In an instant, fire blazed underneath my skin.

  “Really?” I demanded.

  He didn’t respond.

  “So you’re back.”

  “Yep.”

  “Are you staying?”

  “Yep.”

  “Did your daddy make you come back?”

  That one got me a glare.

  “You just give up wearing clothes?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “Why get dressed? I can’t fucking go anywhere.”

  “It’s for your own good.” He got up and strode past me. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  I whirled. “Seriously?”

  He turned and glared at me some more. “What. Do. You. Want.”

  “Asshole, how the fuck are you acting like I wronged you right now?”

  He held up a hand. “I just—”

  “You just left!” I spat. “One minute, you were protecting me, and you wouldn’t let me out of your sight. You made me sleep in your bed, and then you just left!”

  He stared at me, his mouth moving but no words coming out.

  My blood raged too loudly in my ears, drowning out everything but the pressure building in my chest, the heat behind my eyes, the tremble in my hands.

  When he continued his frustrating silence, I stomped my foot. Hard enough that the wood split straight through with a sharp snap, followed by a dull crunch as the board gave way entirely beneath my bare heel.

  My stomach dipped as I lost my balance and began to fall sideways.

  Connor closed the gap between us. Grabbing me. Steadying me.

  “Goddamn, Disaster,” he said, somewhere between awe and accusation.

  But I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

  Because I was too busy trying to fight off the part of me that wanted to see what else I could break.

  “I’m sorry I left,” he said softly.

  He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into an embrace, which I accepted, even though I was still pissed at him. And naked.

  “I needed some time. I needed—”

  “What about what I needed?” I whispered.

  “What did you need?” He brushed his fingers through my hair, stroking my head, pushing strands behind my ears. His voice sounded scraped raw when he said, “What do you need?”

  I swallowed the answer. You.

  I exhaled slowly. “All this time, you knew what I was. You should’ve told me.”

  “I didn’t,” he said. “I didn’t.”

  He kept saying it over and over, like some kind of wish or a chant.

  “Yes, you did,” I insisted, my volume climbing. “You said you would never be enough for me. Because you knew I’m a demigoddess. You knew one partner would never be enough for—”

  “Shh.” His thumb rubbed my lower lip. “Shhh. I knew it could be you. I knew you might be the demigoddess of desire. But I was hoping you weren’t. I was praying you weren’t. And I never pray for shit, so…”

  He looked away, but not before I caught a glimpse of tears in his eyes.

  Oh my god.

  I shook my head, trying to understand where all these emotions were coming from. His and mine. “Why? Why didn’t you want me to be…”

  Holding my face in his hands, he closed his eyes and touched his forehead to mine. “Don’t. I couldn’t say anything until Professor Delos was certain and then, once he was… Fuck it all. We were hoping it was all wrong, that you weren’t really his daughter. That there was no demigoddess. That…”

  He heaved a shaky breath, gliding his thumb along my jawline.

  “That what, Connor?”

  He shook his head, lowered his lips to mine…

  For fuck’s sake.

  I turned my head and slipped out of his arms.

  “There’s more you’re not telling me,” I said flatly. “There’s more you’re not going to tell me.”

  He grabbed my hand. “I’m so tired.”

  I snatched my hand away and really looked at him. Deep, dark shadows, the color of bruises, marred the skin under his eyes. He looked haunted. Tortured.

  “Come to bed with me. Please. I need to sleep. I need you with me.” He held a hand out for me.

  But I didn’t take it. “Where have you been?”

  If he answered this question, I would give in. I needed to be with him. I didn’t understand it. I didn’t like it. But I did.

  “Where have you been, Connor?” I asked again.

  He rubbed his eyes, but when he withdrew his hands, he looked at me.

  “Lena’s.”

  I all but leapt away from him, as if he’d breathed fire on my bare skin. “Lena’s!”

  “No, no.” He shook his head. “Not Lena’s. Not with Lena. At her old dorm room. I knew it would be empty. But before that, I was tracking Alfred Pomroy. I lost him. I fucking lost him, and now he’s back in the wind and… FUCK! Please just come lie down with me, Tuesday.”

  A tremble worked its way up his arm as he reached for me once again.

  “Okay,” I whispered and took his hand.

  Whatever had happened, he needed me. Far more than I needed to shout at him.

  Inside his room, he retrieved a T-shirt from a drawer and gestured for me to lift my arms. I did, and he gently put it on me.

  “Forget Disaster. Temptation is what I should call you. Fucking Temptation,” he muttered, his eyes raking down my half-clothed body.

  “If that was flirting, don’t you dare,” I warned. “I’m still pissed at you.”

  He grinned, but it didn’t hold as much sinful mirth as it usually did. “Heard, Temptation. Heard.”

  “You look like shit,” I said, not meanly, but…he did.

  “If that was flirting, don’t you dare,” he said, pulling me into another hug.

  When he finally let me go, we crawled into bed, and sleep found me once more.

  This sleep wasn’t dreamless.

  I walked through a night so deep, so dark, that I couldn’t see anything. The air felt dank and heavy, congealing my lungs together. I could hear dripping. Voices in a language I couldn’t place. The sound of a car crashing, over and over.

  When I woke, my cheeks were wet. Connor was gone. I was alone.

  But I was back in Kade’s bed.

  I sat up with a start.

  No. Connor coming back couldn’t have all been a dream. It couldn’t have—

  “Hey.” Kade turned from his desk to stare at me through his mask. “You okay?”

  I shook my head and winced at the brutal pounding inside. “I need some Tylenol.”

  “Want me to go grab it?”

  “No, I need to pee, too.”

  “Okay, well, come right back. Connor made it pretty clear you were to stay with me until—”

  “Connor,” I repeated. “Connor?”

  Then it dawned on me that I still wore Connor’s T-shirt. It hadn’t been a dream.

  Kade nodded. “He brought you in here about an hour ago. You were out cold. Believe me, I tried to wake you because you were screeching. But no dice.”

  “Yeah, I was having nightmares.”

  “Daymares,” he said with a small smile, pointing at the window with his pencil.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Anyway, he said to be sure to tell you that he promises to be back in a few hours and to hang out with me until then.”

  “Oh. Okay.” My shoulders sagged with relief as I rose from the bed.

  Kade turned to face me fully. “I don’t understand the deal between you and Connor.”

  “I don’t either,” I said, patting his shoulder as I passed.

  “I don’t understand the deal between you and me either,” he said.

  I laughed. “Me either.”

  “I kind of like it though.”

  I turned and nodded, but I felt like someone was squeezing my lungs.

  I went to the bathroom and closed the door behind me, leaning on it.

  It wasn’t until now that I realized what it had felt like when Connor had been gone.

  It felt exactly like when my mom and I had that fight about me coming to Whispering Ivy. Our last fight ever.

  She threatened to kick me out.

  You can go to Whispering Ivy, or you can live on the street. But you are not welcome to live under my roof any longer.

  I’d been so fucking pissed. Her roof had been a rental, and I’d been contributing to all the household expenses, including the rent. I hadn’t saved a dime from my job at Subway for anything for myself. It all went to bills.

  I’d been furious, but underneath that fury, there was blind panic about being deserted, abandoned, by the one person I should be able to depend on.

  At the sink, I splashed cold water on my face. Downed a couple Tylenol.

  “What is the deal with me and Con…” I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror.

  My eyes were fucking glowing.

  Chapter 8

  “Still reading?” Connor asked, leaning in the doorway of my room.

  I lay on the floor with the ancient texts Delos had given me, and a couple more books he’d sent over by request, which Connor had delivered.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  I hadn’t told him—or anyone—about my glowing eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if the guys were suspicious that I’d developed a coke habit and was running to the bathroom to snort lines as frequently as I went to check my reflection.

  But every time I checked, they looked normal.

  I didn’t know what the deal was with me and Connor, but I still wasn’t willing to trust anyone. I needed to find out what was going on with me, without asking him. Without asking anyone.

  Flipping from another useless page, I glanced up at him. “An actual search engine connected to the fucking internet would be so nice right now.”

  He came inside, sat on the edge of my bed, and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. He was shirtless, his brown hair was rumpled, and he looked so fucking sexy that my panties went damp just looking at him. The forbidden fruit, in human form.

  “Yeah, Wi-Fi and cell signals might compromise the veil, so not happening anytime soon. Anything I can help with?”

  I shook my head. My eyes were bleary, the endless lines of text starting to swim before them. I yawned.

  “Sleepy?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Wanna go to bed?”

  “Yeah.”

  I wasn’t going to get any answers tonight anyway. The books weren’t any more forthcoming than the people on this campus.

  He stood and held out his hand. I took it and let him help me up. But when we got to his room, I turned to him, my jaw dropping.

  I pointed at the air mattress on the floor. “What is this?”

  “Don’t worry, Disaster,” he said. “You get the bed.”

  “But if you’re not sleeping in it with me, why can’t I just sleep in my own bed? In my own room?” I asked, even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep in my own bed, in my own room.

  But I didn’t know that I’d be able to sleep in his bed either if I was alone in it.

  He sighed. “So, when I was gone for a little while earlier?”

  I gasped. “Oh my god. Are you actually going to tell me something?”

  I only partially feigned the shock in my voice.

  “The whole time you were asleep this morning? I was awake.” He cleared his throat. “When I hugged you out in the living room, I got hard. And, um, the erection never went away. So I went to the clinic. Don’t you dare laugh right now.”

  I pressed my lips together. Put my hand over my mouth. “Are you trying to say I broke your cock?”

  “They had to give me an injection.” He held up a finger. “That is why I’m sleeping on the floor.”

  I nodded slowly. “You just can’t control yourself around me. That’s what I’m hearing.”

  He turned away with a snort. “Good night, Disaster.”

  “Oh, I think Temptation is definitely more appropriate,” I teased.

  “Don’t make me go back to Asspain,” he said over his shoulder.

  “You know, next time you have a boner that won’t turn into a goner, there are things I could do to take care of—”

  “Good night, Asspain.” He gestured for me to climb into bed.

  When I lay under the covers, inhaling in his smoky cedar and rain scent, he turned off the light.

  A few moments passed.

  The air mattress squeaked, and the blankets rustled. Then his fingers touched my arm. I held out my hand, and he lay back down, reaching up to grasp it with his.

  “Pocket rocket ready to launch?” I asked.

  “Shut up,” he warned.

  But he squeezed his palm against mine, and I could almost hear the smile in his voice.

  For four nights, we slept like that. Me in his bed. Him on the air mattress. Holding hands while we fell asleep.

  He was absent during the day. I stopped questioning where he went when I realized I was being a huge-ass hypocrite by getting pissed at him for keeping shit from me, when I wasn’t being totally forthcoming with him, either. I hadn’t told him about my eyes, which I had not seen glowing again.

  And I definitely hadn’t told him I’d begun to miss his father in a visceral way. More than once, I’d cried in the shower about it.

  Malcolm and Kade kept me company—and kept me well fucked—in Connor’s absence, but it wasn’t enough. My cunt wanted to be filled constantly. And my soul longed for fresh air.

  That was the only time my temper really flared—when I thought about the lock on the door and the code everyone refused to give me. I tried not to think about that, if only because the thing with stomping through the floorboards during my tantrum had, if I was honest, frightened me. And the kitchen table. And Xander’s door.

  If I was unleashed on the rest of the world, who knows what I would do?

  One night, Connor’s sleep-thick voice cut through the darkness. “You might as well get down here for a few minutes. I’m awake.”

  “Why don’t you come up here?”

  “Because if I come up there, I’ll get too comfortable, and we’ll fall asleep, and I am not sleeping in that bed with you. But I already have a hard-on—you were saying my name in your sleep—so you might as well come cuddle for a bit.”

  “I was not saying your name in my sleep, you liar.” I poked him in the side with my foot as I lowered myself onto the air mattress next to him.

  I’d been having that dream again. The car crash. There was a woman yelling in it now. I had definitely not been whispering sweet nothings about Connor.

  But it became really hard not to start whispering them now.

  His warm, bare chest pressed to my back, his arm slung around my waist. It wasn’t long before I could feel the shift in his breathing—long, even pulls like he was already half asleep.

  I should’ve left it alone. Left him alone. The dark shadows under his eyes seemed to grow darker every day.

  But I’d read something in one of Delos’s books. And I had to try.

  I closed my eyes and reached for that pulse inside me. The one that had been simmering hotter lately. That second heartbeat. I didn’t know exactly what it was or how it worked, but it was mine—and I was done pretending I didn’t want to see what it could do.

  Give in, I thought silently. Give in to me, Connor. Give in to whatever you’re denying yourself. What you’re denying me. Us.

  The words melted into thoughts, feelings, and I willed him to want me enough to stop fighting it. Willed his mouth to crave mine. Willed his hand to drift lower.

  I gasped when it did.

  His fingers grazed my hip, then slid up, skimming under the hem of my T-shirt. His hand kept traveling. My heart beat harder as he touched my breast. Or maybe it was the power again, dancing under my skin.

  I turned in his arms, facing him, and his breath caught when our noses nearly brushed. My whole body shuddered when his palm pressed against my nipple, his fingertips digging into the swell of my breast.

  His other hand slid to the back of my neck, and his mouth crashed into mine like I’d let him off some invisible leash.

 

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