Page 67 of Love, Nemesis
Catching herself in what had initially felt like an innocent exploration of the feeling, she pulled back his sleeve, as if her sole intent had been to see the tattoos. She hoped he’d believe that. Her eyes focused on the names, which were mostly scarred through. She’d gotten carried away by the sudden openness between them and was acutely aware of the more open, and apparently more unpredictable, version of herself. She had told him, very resolutely, that she didn’t like being touched.
On his arm, she saw Ivan Rowe’s name, and continued holding Lethe’s sleeve in her fingers. Her eyes scrolled over the names and then the intricate framing around them. They were detailed, vine-like designs that swept along either side of his forearm, disappearing behind his sleeve.
Feeling that her initial exploration of his arm had been forgotten, she created a question about his tattoos to ensure just that. However, when her eyes flickered up to his, she forgot her question. His eyes were waiting with a deep curiosity that assured her his mind lingered on the feeling of her fingertips.
She wasn’t surprised. Lethe, from what she’d gathered, seemed to prefer his sense of touch among all else.
If there was ever a time to let go of him, it was now, but relishing the openness, she didn’t want to. Not yet. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she’d faced the truth. Now it felt like it was sitting right beside her, looking her in the eyes and asking her to face yet another question she didn’t want to answer.
Lethe’s other hand found hers, peeling her fingers away from his sleeve. The action was gentle, giving Ana the impression that he would return her hand back to her. Instead, he lifted her hand to his lips and tenderly kissed her wrist.
That startled her. She held her breath, entirely focused on the warmth of his lips as they pressed against her skin. Thinking that now he’d let go, she waited for him to lean away, but he interlaced his fingers with hers, the sheer mechanics of the gesture urging her closer. He kissed her wrist again, an action that by all of her understanding of the rules was harmless.
His eyes flickered to hers, measuring her reaction and silently asking for permission, and then he guided her arm past him. She relented, curious as he moved forward, pressing his forehead to hers, his nose grazing hers, but he didn’t kiss her.
Instead, his thumb traced along her jaw, fingers combing back behind her ear, deep through her hair, and guiding her chin back. She allowed her head to tilt, closing her eyes against the rain because this too, by every rule she had, seemed harmless.
His other hand moved around her waist and up the small of her back, and then he kissed her neck, lips pressing against her brand.As if he could drink the rain off her body, his lips ushered the breath out of her lungs, and this, she knew, was not harmless.
She drew a sharp breath, hand flying up to his chest, reflexively curling into the fabric, and they were face to face. His eyes searched hers, and she thought she could feel his heart pounding under his shirt, but maybe it was the illusion of her own.
The swirling, hungry chaos had returned to his eyes, but it was restrained for once—for this. This was hope, a hope she’d released a long time ago, of connecting with another person.
The feeling of his lips on her wrist still lingered; his kiss on her neck still burned. She now realized neither were any less dangerous to her than the man who had delivered them, because each had been an invitation to get lost.
That invitation now swam warm through her blood. The strength of the compulsion to be close to him scared her. Her thumb moved across his cheek, feeling his skin. She’d wanted tolet go of her fears for a long time, but right now they seemed to be her only tether to what she still knew about herself.
His other hand captured her face, and he kissed her. Wrapping her in his arms, he pulled her close to his body, and she buckled as he rolled her onto her back. She felt everything. He inhaled, and she could feel the movement through his body, and hers, at their closeness. His hands made her feel alive, a constant pressure moving over her hips and along her ribs as they kissed, her body pushing back against his fingers.
Aware for a fleeting moment that she was headed somewhere quickly, her mind reached for any objection that might reel her back to reality.
She pushed back against Lethe and he released her, sensing the alarm in her force. Panting, she stared, her heart pounding.
“Ares,” she said as he searched her face.
They were already out of time, but she’d gotten so swept into Lethe’s disinterest that she’d forgotten between the two of them that she was supposed to be the rational one.
“We need to get back.” She scrambled away from him, grabbing his arm and yanking him up. Her heart drummed. She searched the mountains. “Come on. Hurry.” She started climbing up the hill.
“I really think we had our priorities right the first time,” Lethe called after her.
“Hurry!” she said, urging him up before slipping through the mud and catching herself. She could feel her heart in her throat, head spinning.
Focus. She pushed herself, not quite sure how she’d gotten from running off to find Lethe less than twenty minutes ago to this. As they crawled up to the path, reality quickly set in.
What was I thinking?She stumbled onto the path, spinning once until she located her Atlas, snatching it up and syncing it back into her belt. “Where is the way back?” she asked as Lethe straightened, looking around as if Ares would pop up somewhere.
“We have to hurry,” she urged him. “Lethe. Where is the way back?”
“Hold on, I’ve got it. Come on,” he prompted, snapping into action and leading her down a path nearby. They hurried through a series of tunnels, stumbling out back onto the original road a few minutes later. Both of them were covered in mud and soaking wet.
The rain had stopped. Ares was sitting patiently with his rifle in his lap, legs crisscrossed under a cleft where he’d been hiding from the rain with the horses.
Hands on her knees, Ana panted, gesturing over to Lethe.
“I found him,” she said. “He’s back.”
Ares checked his watch, as if out of mere curiosity for how late she was, but didn’t say a word. He stood up and approachedthem both, rifle in hand. Ana stiffened as Ares inspected them both.
