Dark Destiny (Dark Sentinel #1) - Lexxie Couper Page 0,59
pit of her belly tensed. She licked her lips, watching him rise above her slightly, his green eyes holding hers.
They stared at each other for a still moment. She could feel the tension in his body. She held her breath, wanting him to lower his head and kiss her. Wanting him to not. She needed to tell him the rest before they got lost in each other again. She had to tell him the rest. But she needed to feel him moving inside her as well. Damn, she needed to feel him claim her as his own. Maybe more so.
Oh, Fred…this is so dangerous.
His Adam’s apple worked up and down in a series of rapid jumps before, ever so slowly, he released her wrists and moved away from her, nostrils flaring. “There’s more, isn’t there?” he said, pulling himself into a sitting position and resting his elbows on his bent knees. Barely restrained desire radiated from him in hot waves, as did edgy irritation. “You didn’t come here to tell me just that. You know something else.”
Her body burning with denied pleasure, her chest tightening with anticipated apprehension, she released a sigh. She positioned herself beside him, back against the sofa, knees tucked under her chin. There were two ways she could proceed—cautiously, edging into what she’d found back in the Realm’s library, or bluntly. No bullshit, no tiptoeing about.
A rush of annoyance heated her blood and she held back a muttered curse. She’d never been like this before. Indecisive. Hesitant. She felt like a dithering old lady.
Just do it, Fred. Don’t muck about. Just tell him.
“You’ve been written about in the Prophesies.”
The moment the words passed her lips she wished she could take them back. Patrick would want a no-nonsense explanation, but she didn’t need to scare him off with such a surreal statement. Even she got freaked out from time to time knowing there were entities who foresaw her actions eons in advance.
She shot him a quick look and dismay rippled through her. He hadn’t reacted. That frustrating ambiguous expression once again turned his face into an unreadable mask.
“What I mean is,” she continued, less aggressive, “I think you have been.”
He raised one eyebrow. “So I’m famous?”
She laughed, an uncomfortable sound that made her cringe. What was wrong with her? Anyone would think she was falling in…
The thought trailed away, leaving a lump in her throat and a numb tingle in her lips. She closed her eyes, suppressing the urge to groan.
Nope. Not that. Please, not that. It’s not—
“Fred?”
She started at her name. Giving herself a mental slap, she turned back to him, covering her nakedness in a pair of denim cut-offs and a black tank top as she did so. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want to tell him what the future may or may not hold for him naked. Silly, she knew, but there all the same.
Maybe it’s because you’re falling in—
Shut up!
Patrick cocked an eyebrow, possibly at the sudden appearance of clothing on her body, possibly at the strange expression she knew she wore. He said nothing however, reaching behind him without breaking eye contact to snare his jeans. He tugged them on and, despite the churning apprehension eating away at her, she couldn’t help but admire the graceful way he moved, even when doing something so awkward. And holy shit, had there ever been a more perfect set of abs? A part of her wanted to trace her tongue over the sculpted muscles right—
He cleared his throat and she jumped, heat flooding her cheeks again as she snapped her attention to his face, giving herself another mental slap. Focus, Fred. “Umm…” She desperately tried to remember the last thing he’d said. So, I’m famous? “Well, possibly,” she finally answered, trying to will away her embarrassed blush. “Although the reference is so obscure I could be reading it all wrong.”
An ambiguous light flickered in his eyes. “Let’s hear it.”
“The first quote I found is about Fang Face.” She frowned. “I think. Your brother, I mean. Steven. The brother who cannot walk in the sun shall cast a shadow on the shifting grains of glass, and the shadow shall be of blood.”
Patrick didn’t say anything.
She let out a sigh. “I’m assuming the shifting grains of glass refer to the beach, being that sand is used to make glass. I’m guessing the brother who cannot walk in the sun refers to Steven being a vampire who is impervious to daylight.” She shrugged. “But…”