The Return (Titan 1) - Page 50

Seth started to turn, but I reached out, grabbing his arm. His skin was so warm and tight under mine. His gaze flicked to where I held him. “Will you stay?” I asked.

One eyebrow rose as he raised his gaze to mine. “You want to use me as a body pillow again.”

He got what I wanted without me really having to say it. I nodded once more, even though it was more than the fact that he made an awesome pillow. As needy as it sounded, I just didn’t want to be alone right then. I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted him there.

A half-grin appeared on Seth’s face. “Come on then. I’m tired. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

Seth left the bathroom, and I hesitated for a moment, squeezing my eyes shut against the raw rush of emotions that swirled inside me like a tornado. Tears pricked my eyes, but I willed them back down. Once I had it all in check, I opened up my eyes and I saw myself in the oval mirror above the vanity.

With skin pale and dark smudges under tired eyes, I looked haggard. I looked messed-up with my hair in knots and my neck shredded. The crescent-shaped bite mark was red. My stomach dipped as residual adrenaline pulsed through me before quickly evaporating. I swallowed hard, my gaze tracing over my own familiar features.

Looking in the mirror, I saw…I saw me. Other than looking like I’d gotten run over by a truck and trapped in a wind tunnel, I looked like me, but I wasn’t me anymore. Like I had said to Marcus, I wasn’t quite sure what I was, and that showed in my eyes.

You’ll be whoever you want to be, baby.

My throat constricted. That was something my granny had said to me when I had brought home college applications. Back then, it had been all about choosing a career, not something that sounded like destiny or fate, which was what it felt like now.

Thinking of my granny hurt, and I couldn’t deal, because all of that was too fresh and it was something training couldn’t fix, something I couldn’t go back in time and change, and that…that I wasn’t ready to face.

I stared at my reflection for a moment longer, and then I pushed away from the sink, shutting it all down. Tuning it out and turning it off.

Seth was standing where I’d stood earlier. His gaze drifted over me. “You okay?”

Taking a deep breath, I nodded. “Yeah.”

He tilted his head to the side, a small smile gracing his lips, and it was kind of sad. “You’re still a terrible liar.”

I was.

Seth had left to clean up in the room across from mine, and I had done the same thing while he was gone, scrubbing the rest of the funk off me. Leaving the door unlocked, I’d climbed into the surprisingly comfortable bed, rolled onto my side, and turned off the light. If I hadn’t, I would’ve stared at the painting of what had to be Apollo, and that would’ve wigged me out more than it already did.

So it was dark when I heard the door open, and like a doofus, I’d held my breath as Seth strolled into the bedroom. He’d gone to the other side of the bed first, and then had stopped. Pivoting around, he’d walked over to the painting of Apollo and had muttered something under his breath before he’d taken it down and placed it against the wall.

“Sorry,” he’d said as he’d turned toward the bed. “Really don’t want to fall asleep with his freaky-ass eyes on me.”

I’d laughed, and it had been a light and strange sound after everything. Nothing was said after that point. Seth had gotten into the bed, shifted onto his side, and I’d felt his warm breath on the back of my neck. I didn’t think that I could fall asleep with everything crashing around in my head, but I did.

And when I woke up, I was sprawled across Seth. It was ridiculous. Really. My head was on his chest, my arm on his abs, and my leg was thrust between his, pressing on a very interesting part of him. It was like I was trying to become one with him or something, but he also had one arm around me, his hand resting on my hip, under the covers, and the other was curved around my forearm.

I didn’t dare move, since he was still asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily, and his heart beating under my cheek. There was something surreal about lying in his arms like this. I’d always thought it was something people did when they were in a relationship, the whole cuddling thing, but it made me feel that strange warmness again. It also made me feel a lot of other things, like his defined chest under my cheek. And those hard abs under my arm. I couldn’t help it. Every part of me was hyperaware of how my body was plastered to his. He was just so long and lean, and as I lay there, I didn’t think about all the dark and terrible things that were waiting at the edges of my consciousness, ready to pounce and push sorrow through me like dirty, messy slush.

The hand on my waist suddenly flexed, and my eyes widened. Was he awake? The answer came when his hand slowly slid to my hip and his fingers splayed. A ripple of tingles spread across my body, centering between my thighs. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it did nothing to stop the sudden pounding of my pulse in all the interesting areas. I should move and definitely get off him before…well, before my hormones started to climb out of my body and do a little jig on top of us. I shifted, straightening my leg, and the hand on my hip tightened, as did the one on my arm.

“Josie,” Seth said, his voice gruff with sleep and something else, something more raw and rough.

For a moment I didn’t understand, but then I felt him against the inside of my leg, the one between his. Holy crappers, I really did feel him. My eyes popped open, and I started to move, but the hand on my hip stopped me. It didn’t just still me, but pressed me against his hip, and the contact sent a jolt through me. I squirmed, and that only made the feeling stronger. No. It wasn’t just a feeling. I knew what it was. Arousal. Want. Desire. Lust. Whatever. I’d felt it before, many times before, and it made my breath reedy, and my body acted out of instinct, not common sense. I moved my hips forward and was rewarded—or maybe punished—by the acute rolling of sensations that started at my core and undulated through me.

“If you keep moving around, this is going to get super-awkward,” he rasped, voice husky and shivery.

My mouth dried because I felt him swell and thicken against my thigh. Heat burned my cheeks, partly due to embarrassment, but also due to the slow fire that had started building in my veins. I was stunned by the intensity of what I was feeling. I’d liked guys before, even wanted them, but I’d never felt this strongly.

“Or maybe not awkward,” he drawled as he moved that hand on my hip, sliding it up to my waist, creating tiny coils in the pit of my belly. His hand halted, as if he was testing me, his thumb barely brushing the underswell of my breast. “Maybe something totally different.”

Tags: Jennifer L. Armentrout Titan
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