Ambrosia (Nectar 2)

Hope sprang forth for a nanosecond as she imagined the sensation of Tristan…what it’d feel like to touch him, to smell him, to be held captive by those eyes. Her head rolled back, imagining what it’d feel like to be touched by him.

No.

Bad, bad bad idea.

Red flags were flying up all over the place in her head and she couldn’t sit still and wait and wonder. She jumped up and started stuffing her belongings into the duffle bag. She gathered up the toiletries that she’d bought and tossed them in, threw the dirty clothes in a grocery bag and stuffed it in her bag, then stuffed in the rest of her clean clothes. She tied her still wet hair up in a ponytail and put on some yoga capris and a clean t-shirt and then zipped up the bag and grabbed her purse.

His face flashed in her mind and she halted and took a deep breath and her neck went lax as her head rolled back.

His eyes. His gorgeous mouth. Those dimples.

In her mind she saw the two of them tangled together, felt heat rise in her, felt moisture down in her panties.

But then panic rose. She shook it off, pushed her emotions out of the way and pushed forward. The thrumming continued while her veins felt like they were thickening, her blood warming. It was such an odd sensation.

She didn’t know where she was going to go next and didn’t know if he was tracking her from 3000 miles away or 5 minutes away but she was petrified out of her mind. She couldn’t just sit here and wait for him to find her and wait to find out if he would have no choice but to kill her because the gray hulky beast inside him was either still there or would emerge as soon as he found her.

Maybe Tristan already knew the answer, though. Maybe he had found a way for them to be okay.

Or maybe he still wasn’t Tristan. Maybe he was in that black-eyed gray-skinned monster form and hell-bent on finding her and finishing the job he’d started.

Where am I even going right now?

She had no bloody clue. She just felt the urge to move, to get out of this tiny box.

Once she got everything together she pulled her pink Taser out of her purse and held it in her hand, ready to use it. She then burst out of the trailer. She got halfway down the steps and then felt something catch her wrist. The second she did her nose caught a familiar sugary aroma and the throbbing in her body screeched to an audible halt.

“Going somewhere?” His tone was totally... utterly… flat.

It felt staticky around her wrist, where he touched her. When her eyes scanned his face she thought for sure the wooden deck and the earth beneath it were going to fall away into nothingness. His strong warm hand was on her. Right then nothing existed other than those blue gemstones in front of her. Blue.

Blue.

She paled and her knees started to buckle. She was about to go down. He caught her by the waist.

“Whoa,” he said and gently backed her up and leaned her against the side of the trailer for support. She looked down at his big, strong, perfect hands on her hips and then her eyes travelled up his face, saw scruff on his dimpled chin, his defined jaw, his beautiful full lips, straight nose, sculpted cheekbones, then his eyes --- those eyes. The universe stood still for a moment as their eyes locked and the blue penetrated her soul.

The tension, the heat, the intensity were all palpable. He let one hand go and flattened it above her head on the building for support, clearly affected as much as she was.

He was breathing heavily, looking down into her eyes and then he began exuding something frighteningly intense that she didn’t dare try to name.

“Inside,” he bit off, grabbing the screen door handle and pulling so hard it came off hinges. He tossed it and it hit the deck with a clatter. Kyla was frozen in place, her mouth agape.

Tristan shackled her wrist again with his fingers, pulling her into the trailer with him. Then he let go, locked the inside door and leaned against it, arms folded across his chest, the expression in his eyes hard and on her. He glanced at the Taser in her hand and notched an eyebrow as if to say, “You think that’s gonna do anything?”

Kyla dropped her bag and the Taser on the floor and then her palms clasped her face. She started to back away from him. Not thinking, she backed into the tiny bedroom. He followed, stalking like a predator, but staring coldly at her.

She whimpered when she realized she was backed into a corner, literally, and he was two inches away from her. The backs of her knees touched the bed. She sat. He towered over her, so close that she could actually feel his body heat.