Page 32 of The Girl and the Cobra

Her lips are just as soft as I thought they’d be. Sweet and delicious, addicting in every way; I immediately turn into an addict, unable to have my fill. The kiss turns harder as the fire burns hotter inside me. I memorize the way her lips move against mine, how perfectly her jaw fits into my cupped hand.

Not so long ago I would’ve said a girl like this was too sweet for me, but now? Now she’s just what the doctor ordered.

My hand on her jaw falls to her neck and slowly curls around, the tips of my fingers digging into her hair. I kiss her hard, devouring her whole. It doesn’t even occur to me that we’re in the woods, where any hungry animal could stumble across us. The only thing I can think about is that mouth of hers and how amazing it feels on mine. I never want to stop.

But stop we have to in order to catch our breath. We both breathe hard, but all I can focus on is the way she pants and how her hot breath blooms across my face.

“I’m sorry if that was bad,” Mabel whispers. “I’ve never—I don’t much experience when it comes to… that stuff, so—”

I lean my forehead against hers and hush her by saying, “No. Don’t. It was—” Amazing? Everything I needed? Enough to bring me back to life? I could describe it like that and in so many more ways, but I settle for pressing my lips upon hers again.

She wraps her arms around my neck and clings to me like no one has ever clung to me before. Now that she knows what to expect, she’s a more willing participant, as eager and as desperate as I am. My other arm is steel around her, holding her to me. I am right where I should be.

Everything that led me to this point, everything that brought me here; it all fades away until there’s nothing but the present. Nothing but the urgent desire and the carnal need to makeMabel mine. Every single mistake I made in the past, all the cutting and self-destructive habits… none of it matters anymore.

I will always be Tristan Arrowwood. I’ll always be the Cobra. But maybe I can be more than that, more than my past—maybe I can be more for Mabel.

Fuck. I’ll be anything she wants me to be.

Though I want nothing more than to remain here and kiss her all night, we should get back to the mansion—not only so I can give Wolf the middle finger, but also so Mabel can get warm and rest her ankle. It’s the only reason I pull my mouth off hers and whisper, “We should head back.”

Mabel swallows; it’s an audible sound that makes certain parts of me warm. “You’re right.”

I stand, and as I do so I help Mabel to her feet. I can tell it’s her right ankle she twisted; she doesn’t put much weight on it at all.

“We just have to go slow—” It’s all Mabel can say before I hoist her up in my arms.

I might not be as strong as I once was, but she’s small. I can pick her up and carry her just fine.

“You don’t have to,” she starts. “I can walk, just slow.”

The only thing I do is keep walking. Like hell will I put her down and make her walk back to the mansion on an ankle she twisted. After a minute, she must realize I won’t put her down, so she hangs an arm around the back of my neck, along my shoulders, and leans her head to the side.

“Just don’t trip. That’s how I hurt myself in the first place,” she jokes.

I want to tell her I’m not someone who fumbles around in the darkness; in reality, the blackness is another home to me. I grew up in a darkness like this. Tripping? Dropping her? Won’t fucking happen.

My inner compass guides me as I carry Mabel to the mansion. I don’t move as fast as I did when I was alone, but that’s partly because of how I carry her and also because I know the moment we return Wolf will take over her care and put me on the sidelines.

She fits so well in my arms. Perfectly, even. Carrying her is the opposite of a burden, and knowing that she needs me fills me with a sense of purpose I haven’t felt in a long, long time. And her lips… fuck. How am I ever supposed to think of anything else?

We emerge from the forest, walking onto the grassy clearing around the house. The moment the mansion comes into view, Mabel sighs and says, “Thank you.”

I want to tell her she doesn’t need to thank me, that I didn’t do it for her thanks, but I don’t say a word. My mind still races with the night’s events, with the memory of her lips on mine. Though the darkness is home to me, light would have made it better; I would have been able to see the flush on her cheeks and the hazy look in her eyes.

Keeping myself from her is going to be impossible. It was already semi-impossible, but now? The only way I’d be able to stay away from her would be if I’m dead.

And though I’ve been a dead man walking ever since the events in Cypress, I’m not shambling around anymore. No, Mabel instilled in me a breath of life, made my heart beat anew.

Mabel is my life now.

Chapter Fourteen – Mabel

I stand on the beach, the warm, salty water lapping at my feet with the slow retreat of the tide. The sky has not a single cloud, and the sun shines so brightly I have to squint out at the deep blue water. I breathe in deeply, tasting the familiarity of the sea’s breeze.

I’m comfortable here. I like being here. It’s one of the rare places I don’t mind being alone.

It’s as I think that thought, however, that I know I’m not alone. A crawling dread slinks up my spine, and I hear an achingly familiar voice speak behind me, “Forgot me already?”

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