Page 35 of Torn Between Two Worlds

Suddenly, Ciara felt a little uncomfortable alone in the room with Fasheem. “Umm, is there any chance I won't be freaked out by whatever this secret is?”

The smile he gave her made her a little more at ease, but his words didn't.

“Not a chance in hell. But it's not a bad thing. I bet you can ask Jess later.” He paused and cracked his knuckles. “You know the books so really, there's no need to tiptoe around this. You'reStryder's mate.”

She felt her mouth drop open and did her best to close it. “That's not possible.” She thought back to the other night when he’d called her his, and to the words Jameson had said right before Stryder had freaked, and panic wrapped around her a little. “No, it's not possible. I don't belong anywhere but my world, and he certainly doesn't belong in mine. I'm just confused because he's gone, and well, Stryder does ooze sex. You all do, actually.”

Fasheem sighed loudly. “Look, you've slept with him, right?”

She nodded slowly, a little embarrassed even at her age.

“Then let me take a little guess that, at some point, he told you that you were his?”

She definitely flushed as she nodded.

“And you just took this to be normal?” He arched a brow.

She felt like a child. “I just, I didn't think anything of it, to be honest. It just didn't matter. I was kind of um…focused elsewhere.”

“Yes, well, your lack of denial probably made my brother’s hopes soar through the roof. We've all been waiting for ages for our mate to come, and we don't make mistakes. Heed that warning. We don't make mistakes.”

He rose from the table and walked away without another word, leaving her to her thoughts in the now cold and empty kitchen.

“What have I done?” her whisper was soft, barely audible even to herself.

She wouldn't deny her feelings for him, but she had preferred to think it was something she was in control of, that it was just the Guardian bond amping up her sex drive and making her fall in love. The other explanation that they were mates meant she wasn't in control, that she had no choice in her attraction and lust toward him. It just had to be the Guardian thing.

“But what if it isn't?” She thought about the way he made her feel. Despite everything, she felt protected when she was with him, comforted. They hadn't had many moments of peace, but the picnic, they had been laughing a little. If the stories she’d heard before they’d begun questioning her were true, then he would be able to make her laugh anytime.

“Don't you owe it to yourself to find out? To see where your heart is actually taking you, rather than running?” She wasn't sure she wanted the answer. But sitting there alone and not talking to Stryder wasn't going to help. “You wanted a great romance, looks like you got it.”

Walking cautiously out of the kitchen, she was relieved to find Fasheem and Jessica sitting on the couch watching TV. He stroked his wife's hair, and Ciara bit back a weary sigh. She wanted what they had, and she knew she had that with Stryder, she just didn't like the idea it was fated. She preferred that she chose him and he chose her.

“Fasheem?”

He stopped playing with Jessica's hair and looked over at her.

“I am not sure if you have a way of knowing where he is, but can you take me to him? Please.” Her voice was weak, emulating how she felt in this situation.

“It's about damn time you figured that part out. He's at his house researching. Let's go.” He kissed Jessica before taking Ciara's hand. In an instant too quick for her to process, she was staring at the grandiose mansion Stryder lived in.

“Go give him hell, Ciara. But don't fucking hurt him. He has three badass brothers I'm told.” With a creepy wink, he left her there.

Slowly putting one foot in front of the other, she crossed the expanse to the front door. She raised a hand to knock, but it opened on its own, revealing Stryder standing on the other side. His eyes were black as night, but the rest of him appeared normal. Bare-chested with sweats on, she almost forgot to breathe.

His words cut through her, “I felt you. I can't fucking stop feeling you. If I could, I would. Since I disgust you.”

She put her hand on his chest and looked into his eyes. She watched as they swirled between black and his beautiful blue before settling on the bright color she had grown accustomed too. She ignored his comment about disgusting her and forced herself to talk. “Am I yours?”

Pulling back from her, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Sorry, sweetheart, but you are. Don't worry, it's not a fucking confession of love. It's animal instinct. Plain and simple. So don't get your panties in a bunch over it. I can do my damn job, though, don't worry. I can protect you and keep it in my pants. But shit works two ways. No more playtime for you either. I meant what I was saying before shit blew up. No pansy ass feelings intended. I just don't take second place.”

His words stung, but she had a feeling he was trying to anger her by belittling the situation to make himself feel better about what he thought was her rejection. Breathing deeply, she walked toward him again and focused on pulling him toward her. Reaching out her hand, she imagined a string connecting them, and she gently tugged on it.

His body hit into hers, and she didn't know what made her happier, that she had tried using some power that Alcott had taught her, or the feel of his hardened body against hers. “I am choosing to ignore that for now. I don't know what this is. I don't understand anything except that I'm confused.” She looked at the ground and cleared her throat before raising her eyes to meet his. The deep blue shone hot and hard at her, with lust or anger, she honestly couldn't tell. “I don't want to be confused anymore.”

That was all the catalyst he needed. His piercing eyes followed Ciara’s hands as she trailed them down his chest. His muscles were hard and ungiving beneath her fingertips. Leaning forward, she kissed her way down his body, his skin hot under her lips. Her hands worked the tie of his sweats. The hiss of fabric was loud in the silence as she pulled them down from the waistband.

His hand reached behind her neck, grazed the skin there and untied the black string, causing the halter-top of her black dress to flop forward. It hung there until his hand skimmed down her back and undid the tie there and slid it down her body. She hadn't put on a bra earlier, and she was glad. Her nipples were pebbled from the feel of his hand on her neck. Pushing his hand back from its target, she smiled coyly at him.

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