First Bitten (The Alexandra Jones Series #1)

First Bitten: Chapter 27



I can hear the sound of Nathan’s footsteps as he makes his way back down the hall toward our rooms. My heart starts to thud in my chest.

He’s been gone for half an hour and it’s been the longest thirty minutes of my life. My bag was packed and ready to go within five minutes. For the remainder of the time I’ve been sitting here chewing my nails to oblivion, waiting for him to return.

I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. He deserves more than that from me. And I had to see him, just one last time.

I’m not sure if he’ll just go straight to his room, though. He may still be pretty pissed off, so it is quite likely. If he does, I’ll go and see him.

He’s stopped outside my door. I hear his gentle knock. My pulse quickens. Taking a deep breath, I get up, and go and open the door.

He looks at me. His expression is so pained that my insides start to ache and I almost break all of my resolve and change my mind about leaving.

Almost.

Silently I turn away and walk back into my room, leaving the door open with the invitation for him to follow. I lean up against the far wall and watch him as he slowly makes his way toward me.

He stops just past the bathroom door and leans his shoulder up against the wall, leaving the bed between us. My eyes flick to my packed bag. It’s sitting there like a hot potato.

And then I’m all kinds of uncomfortable and everything in-between.

“I’m so sorry,” he starts, lifting apologetic hands, his voice rough. “I shouldn’t have behaved like that, I’ve never in all my life … ” He fixes his gaze on me. “I would never hurt you, Alex, never.”

I want to laugh, a nervous, slightly hysterical laugh, but I don’t think it would go down well. He’s trying to apologise, and all I can think about is what he’s going to say when he realises I am actually leaving. He’ll probably be relieved.

And all that thought proceeds to do is to drive all the air out of my lungs and to start my head clicking over like a car with a dead battery.

Nathan takes a deep breath. “I need you to know, what I said about Sol, I didn’t mean … ” He cuts off mid-sentence, his eyes finally landing on my bag.

I see it pass over his face, the glimmer of confusion, quickly clicking into understanding.

My body starts to tremble so hard that my knees knock together. I cross one leg over the other, pressing them together, stopping the shake.

“So you were serious.” He hasn’t taken his eyes off my bag yet and I’m getting nothing from his even tone.

“Yes.” My voice cracks. I clear my throat. “This isn’t healthy – the fighting, the animosity. You can’t spend the rest of your life evading the Originals with me, trying to keep me safe.” I rub my face.

He lifts determined eyes to mine. “I disagree.”

I’m half-relieved, half pissed-off. Nathan has this way of tying me up into all kinds of tangled knots, to the point where I barely know my left hand from my right.

“It doesn’t change anything.”

He folds his arms across his broad chest. For a fleeting second I remember what it felt like to be held by them, back when he wanted me. “Where will you go?” he asks, not a trace of emotion in his voice.

I shrug uncomfortably, running a nervous finger down the wall, picking at the paintwork.

I hadn’t gotten that far. I’d got as far as getting myself out of this room, down the hall and into the lift. In my mind, the rest, in comparison to walking away and leaving Nathan behind, is easy.

“Come on, you must have an idea.” His tone is coaxing, bordering on patronising.

“I don’t, yet, but I will … soon.” My face flushes as he shakes his head disparagingly at me.

Unfolding his arms, he stands up straight. “Well you don’t have any money and it’s not like you can go to anyone you know – family, friends, your ex-boyfriend. You’re supposed to be dead, remember? But then it’s not like you have any family left to go to, is it?”

My body freezes cold.

I know he can be callous but even that has surpassed my expectation of him. He really and truly meant that. He meant to hurt me.

I cast a brief glance at him. “That was a shitty thing to say.” I go over and pick my jacket up and pull it on. “Why do you even want to be here with me?” I challenge. “You can barely stand to look at me for the most part, let alone be around me. I’m doing you a favour here, Nathan. I’m freeing you of me.”

I get nothing back.

Frustrated, I swing my bag over my shoulder and head for the door.

“Wait … ” I can tell how hard it was for him to say that. He’s behind me now. “Stay.”

I hold my resolve. “No.”

“I’m not asking.” He’s closer now, too close. I can’t catch a breath.

I turn to face him. His stare is intense. I feel like he can see inside me, that he knows every single thought possessing me.

“I thought we were done.” I can barely get the words out.

He takes a step closer, putting his boots flush with my ballet pumps. My heart does a nervous flip. “We’ll never be done.”

My bag slides off my shoulder, dropping to the floor with a thud. Then he leans in and puts his mouth on mine and everything else just fades away.

I kiss him back feverishly. Even the strong taste of whiskey on his tongue can’t detract from this moment. If anything, it only makes me want him more.

He runs his impatient hands down my back and, gripping my clothes, he lifts me up off the floor. I wrap my legs around his waist. He presses me hard against the door. All of him is on me.

“I need you,” he says into my mouth. His deep voice vibrates through me, touching me in all the right places, and I have to remind myself just to breathe.

He peels me off the door and carries me over to the bed. He sits me down on the edge of it and kneels between my legs. Taking my face in his hands, his fingers buried deep in my short dark hair, he picks his kissing up from right where he left it.

My pulse is pounding. I feel like I’m on the edge of bursting out of my skin.

Impatient, I yank his T-shirt up. I need his clothes gone. Now. Nathan lifts his arms, allowing me to pull it over his head.

I drop it to the floor and trail my hand down the base of his neck, running my fingers along his dog tags, then slide my hand downwards, feeling over the hard ridges of the muscles on his chest.

His eyes are fixed on mine as he presses his hand to my cheek and runs his thumb over my lips. I part them, letting it slide inside. I run my tongue over it, tasting him. There’s a look in his eyes that’s discernible and I know just exactly what he’s thinking. A bolt of lust shoots through me and I’m sure I’m going to explode from the sheer force alone.

I lean in to kiss him, lips barely touching. He moves in closer, trying to kiss me back harder, but I move away. Grinning, I lick my lips and lean down and kiss his chest, running my tongue over his tattoo, lower and lower, until I reach the waistband of his jeans. Running my fingers inside, I feel him shudder beneath my touch. It sends a huge wave of pleasure rippling through me.

He pushes my jacket off my shoulders, kissing wherever my bare skin is. Then the rest of my clothes are off so quickly I barely register it happening. All the time his eyes never leave mine and I don’t feel as naked as I actually am.

My hands are shaking so badly with desire that I’m struggling to undo his belt buckle. He laughs with a low, certain desire. It’s deep and sexy, and it sets off fires at key locations on my body.

He takes over, releasing his belt in one fluid movement. My face flushes. Then one-by-one, I pull down the buttons on his jeans.

I slip my hand inside, working my way past his boxer shorts. His lips are back on mine but this time he kisses me gently, tenderly. He parts my lips with his, slipping his warm tongue inside my mouth. But now I don’t want gentle. I just want him.

I touch him urgently and he quickly lets go of whatever control he was trying to maintain. He yanks his jeans and boxer shorts off, and pushes me back onto the bed. He climbs on top of me. And now all that separates us is the flimsy cotton of my knickers.

He kisses my neck, letting his tongue roam my skin, his hands everywhere. He moves lower, kissing his way downwards. When he reaches my stomach, I instinctively put my hand up to my scar, covering it, self-conscious of the permanent reminder of what I really am.

Nathan lifts his head, looking up at me through his long lashes. He takes hold of my hand and moves it away. Pinning one arm to the bed, then the other, he presses his lips to my scar.

Something dances behind my naval then waltzes lower.

He releases my arms. With his eyes fixed on mine, he hooks a finger under my knickers and slides them off.

Not willing to wait any longer, I reach down and take hold of his dog tags, leading him back up to me.

We’re touching at all the strategic points on our bodies but he pauses, hovering his face over mine. I can barely contain myself, and here he is pausing.

“I love you,” he says, deep and sure.

Pleasure and pain shoot simultaneously through me. I lift my mouth up to his and kiss him. “I love you,” I murmur.

He sinks into me, his hard body against mine. And when he moves inside me, and we become an entanglement among the bed sheets, for the first time in a long time the demons in my head are silenced.


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