Page 40

MARA

I was exhausted. I didn’t think I had ever danced so much in my life. For my first week out of a two-week coma, I thought I was over doing it. Wes had walked me back to my room, but promised to return shortly. So I took advantage of the opportunity and got cleaned up.

The hot shower felt so good on my tired muscles, and the white baggy t-shirt and little black shorts trimmed with lace were a nice change from jeans and sweater.

I towel dried my hair, brushed my teeth, and was surprised to see how healthy I looked.

I really did feel good physically— strong —despite being on bed rest for two weeks.

I stepped out of the bathroom, feeling the warmth created by the fire burning in the corner, and my gaze snagged on the vase sitting on my dresser.

The collection of white roses was beautiful.

I tossed my towel in the corner and went to them.

My fingers grazed over their silky petals, and then I gently pulled one out by its stem.

Gingerly lifting the delicate thing, I peered into the maze of white petals before brushing them against my lips.

So soft . I smelled their fragrant floral scent and closed my eyes.

A memory.

And not just any memory. One very specific memory.

I always wondered where Chase found it. He was so weird about it, telling me that once he gave me the surprise, I couldn’t show it to anyone or speak of it ever again…not even with him.

“But, Chase, that doesn’t even make sense. It’s weird,” I had said to him.

“Please. Promise me?”

He looked so giddy, reminding me so much of a sweet little schoolboy presenting a card to his first crush. I just couldn’t disappoint him, and I agreed.

No one ever gave me surprises. I never even received gifts on my birthday…only from Jacob and Javi. The only surprises I ever got were ones in the dark that came with the crack of a whip.

I hated surprises.

But that day, I was dazzled. Because Chase pulled out from under his coat one single white rose. I had never seen one before. We didn’t have flowers like these in Telvia, and at first, I thought it was a fake.

“It’s real,” he said, and I just about melted into a puddle of wonder and magic, completely lost in the scent of the flower and the heat of his body so close to mine.

All I could utter was, “But how?” Where did he find it? How did he manage to get it? Even if he had snuck beyond Telvia’s walls—which was strictly forbidden—the landscape was nothing but desert.

“I have my secrets,” was all he whispered back to me.

But I knew better now.

Chase had brought me a rose from beyond Telvia’s walls, because Chase was the heir to the North.

That day, he was whispering to me his secret with one simple gift: a fresh white rose.

I just didn’t know it yet. I had taken my rose, and committed the smell of it to memory.

I had relished the feel of its petals against my lips and fingertips.

And then I buried it, afraid that if anyone ever found me with it, I would be accused of rebelling, of dissenting against my father.

I was afraid, and true to my word, I never spoke of the rose again.

Knock, knock.

I looked over my shoulder at the door, and then carefully placed the rose back in its vase. The door rapped again.

“Come in,” I said, hugging my stomach.

The door opened, and I felt like my knees were going to give out.

Wes looked debonair as ever, my knight in dark blue jeans.

And I shivered, feeling my cheeks color as I remembered dancing with him.

My heart tap danced as Wes stepped through the threshold, one hand behind his back as he closed my door, and sauntered to me.

“I brought you something,” he said with a sweet smile, and slowly he revealed another white rose.

My lips parted in surprise, struck by the irony of identical twin brothers presenting me with identical gifts, and then smiled. “Are you the one that brought me all of these roses?”

He took another step toward me, and this time, my heart leaped up into my throat when he spoke. “Every single one,” he said, voice thick and heavy.

“But why?” I reached for the flower in his hand, tugging gently on the stem, but he resisted.

His eyes swirled with dark amber and green. The bronze and browns were alive tonight, and he looked dark and dangerous. And then he spoke. “Each one marks a day you slept…just out of reach from me. And each one represents a silent promise.”

Tipping my head to the side, a silly grin of curiosity curled onto my face. I pulled on the rose again, and this time, he released it, the stem sliding out of his hand slowly. “A promise of what?”

“Love.”

My heart melted, and suddenly I felt warm, flushed —my heart beating hard for a man that felt too good to be true, too good to be mine.

I choked down the emotion brewing within me.

Stepping away, I turned around to place the flower in the vase, needing the meager distance to help me regain some semblance of control over myself.

Only one breath…that’s all I got before I felt his hands fall on my waistline, slowly traveling down to my hips, fingers pressing into my skin.

I swallowed hard. Wes’s breath was on my collarbone, lips skimming my flesh as I closed my eyes and tipped my head to the side. My hair cascaded down, exposing the length of my neck as he placed gentle kisses on my skin. Goosebumps skittered across my body, making me shiver once again.

“Are you cold?” he whispered teasingly, lips still grazing me.

“Not really,” I barely managed to get out. I was far from cold. I was hot. I was boiling. I was ready to strip off my clothes and jump into a cold shower.

His hands gripped me harder, pulling me flush against him, and oh my god, I was going to lose my mind. And not just my mind. I was seconds away from losing something else if I didn’t put a stop to this. But, then again, did I really want to?

His arm wrapped around me, pressing me harder against him, sultry kisses on my neck, and then…he nipped me. I jumped in his arms, startled by his actions, and all I heard in reply was his cocky rumble of a laugh in my ear as he whispered, “Did that hurt?” I could hear the devious smirk in his tone.

“N-no…” My breaths were coming fast, and my insides were contorting into a pretzel.

His nose nuzzled the sensitive spot behind my ear as he spoke into my skin. “Did you like it?”

My legs quaked. I thought for sure my knees were going to give out. “Would you judge me if I said yes ?”

Another confident chuckle. “Only if you judge me for enjoying the taste of you. ”

Oh lord, was this happening? I was so hot, feeling so intense, I thought I was going to collapse.

His lips were on me again, his teeth skirting my skin.

And I was writhing inside, anticipation killing me.

He nipped me once more, and I tipped my head back against his shoulder, trying to stifle a moan.

Normally, I would have been absolutely mortified by the sound that came out of me.

But hearing me caused the most primitive sound to escape him in response, erasing my own embarrassment.

And as his lips pulled on my flesh, the sensations of his teeth and his hands and his mouth on me caused me to shudder uncontrollably.

“ Fuck ,” he muttered against me, his grip on my hips tightening.

And then I was off my feet. From one heartbeat to the next, I was thrown onto the bed, Wes’s frame on top of me, pinning me in the most delicious way.

His lips found me then—opening, parting, begging—and I was a very willing participant.

I savored the taste of him. Relished the feel of his body against mine. His hands wandered down my curves while mine pulled and yanked on his shirt.

He lifted, only for a second, pulling the shirt off over his head.

A landscape of smooth skin pulled taut over a muscular frame had me practically drooling.

Because Wes was gorgeous, a perfect piece of male perfection.

The only thing that marred his skin were two scars—bullet wounds.

One on his lower side and the other dangerously close to his heart.

Twice I had almost lost him. Twice he had been saved.

“You’re so gorgeous.” I didn’t mean to say it aloud as I ran my fingers across the ripples of his chest. But who cared? Because I sure as hell didn’t…not right now, anyway.

His smug grin caused my toes to curl as he leaned down, kissing me once again.

His hand gripped the exposed skin of my thigh, then traveled upwards to the hem of my shirt, diving under.

I gasped, surprised by the touch of his hand on my ribcage, and excited by the feel of his fingers as they grazed just under the swells of my chest .

My body had a mind of its own. I most certainly did not tell it to arch under his touch, but it did. And when I did, our lower halves flushed together, and I became all too aware of how I was making Wes feel. My cheeks colored as he groaned, nestling his face into the crook of my neck.

“Fuck, Mara. You can’t do that,” he said, voice deep and thick.

An evil smile took control of my mouth. I arched again, rubbing up against him. The primal sounds that erupted from him left me feeling powerful and devious. But Wes’s hand shot down and gripped my hip, pushing it into the mattress.

I wiggled, enjoying this little game.

“ Mara ,” he warned in a panted breath. “That’s not fair.” The strain in his voice…it gave me so much delight. His face was still tucked into my neck—grazing, savoring, biting me in the most delicious way.

I brought my lips to his ear. “Why not?” I whispered. And then nipped his ear lobe. Two can play this game , I thought. He startled over me, and then I heard his deep, throaty laugh.

“Because I can’t promise I can restrain myself if you keep doing that.”

Exhilaration thrummed through me like a drug. “Perhaps I don’t want you to,” I whispered, catching him off guard and lifting my hips again. But his grip tightened on me, shoving me deeper into the mattress as a pained sound escaped him.

“Fuck, don’t do that...”

“Which part?” I teased. I was enjoying myself way too much to stop.

He rolled off of me then and onto his back, eyes closed, with soft laughter rolling off him.

“ Hey ,” I complained, sitting up next to him. “I said I didn’t want you to stop.”

His arms were over his head. “That’s the problem. One of us has to remain in control.” He turned on his side, pulling up onto his elbow with his head resting in his hand. “Mara, when the time is right, I promise I’ll let you do whatever you want to me,” he said with a devious smirk. “But not yet.”

Well, this was interesting. I was certainly not expecting this, and suddenly, I felt bad. Was I not pretty enough or something? Because what guy gets hot and heavy with a girl and then turns her down when she says she’s willing to go further?

“Did I…did I do something wrong?”

The grin dropped from his face, and a look of tenderness and concern swept through the amber of his eyes.

“No…no, you’re perfect,” he said gently.

He sat up and moved himself closer, drawing his face towards mine.

His nose nuzzled my own while he brushed my jaw with the back of his hand.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, okay? This is me.

I’m just…” he hesitated. I saw the intensity in his eyes, saw the wheels spinning. “Not ready.”

“Oh.” I did my best to offer a smile, but it came off weak and weary. Not ready? What the hell did that mean? Not ready because of me ? Was he having second thoughts?

He sat up. “I’m going to shower,” he said as he shifted off my bed.

I blinked, feeling confused. “Are you coming back?”

He looked at me. A pause. “I was planning on it, but if you’d rather I didn’t…”

“ No ,” I squeaked, and instantly my cheeks flushed.

He gave me a wry grin before planting a quick kiss on my cheek. “Then I’ll be back.” He walked out of my room, but I was left feeling more than just a little rejected.