Page 18 of The Bloodfeather Promise
I wanted him to do it. I wanted wild. I wanted crazy. I wanted my first time to be with someone I would never forget. I wanted to forget the pain of the past six months, and do something utterly out of character. One of the last things Grandpop said before his death was that I should not spend my life standing safely on the sidelines. Well, this was certainly far from safe. Maybe Greyson was the one who should be on his guard.
I lost myself so completely in the pleasure of being his, I really did forget everything else. I did not think about my grandfather’s death. I did not think about Justin, how he dumped me at my most vulnerable moment. I did not think about his hateful, hurtful words, and how they made me curl into myself. Instead, I unfurled with Greyson’s attention. I bloomed with his kisses, glowed from his caresses. Everything about our time together was memorable. It was amazing and wild and everything I dreamed it would be. It was everything I wanted.
Until it wasn’t.
He didn’t even bother asking my name...
“Are you hurt?”His question is gentle, brimming with courteous concern. It tugs me from my memories.
“Are you crazy? Put me down!” I sputter.No, don’t put me down. I forgot how much I liked you holding me…
“But why?” Greyson’s slow grin sends my stomach somersaulting like a world-class gymnast. “You’re like a feather in my arms. Soft and light. Hmmm, you smell incredible, too.”
Surprisingly, he relents, sliding me down his body until I am pressed flush against the bookshelves, dizzy with the memory of how he took me against the wall of that hotel suite. How he held me aloft, his hands gripping my rear while he pounded into me.
I’m breathing heavily, which is a bit concerning for him. Leaning over, he peers into my face, assuring himself I’m not on the verge of fainting.
There’s not even a glimmer of recognition in those green-grey and topaz eyes of his. Just an indistinct puzzlement confirming my suspicions.
He has no idea who I am. No idea that I’m the girl he slept with the night he quit his band fifteen months ago. Another frisson of abhorrence ripples through me. The strength of it surprises me because, at the same time, a wave of longing for his lips on mine surges through my bloodstream.
“You startled me.” My words come out in a squeak, and I shove him back a few inches. Clearing my throat, when next I speak, my voice is intentionally stronger and accusing. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people, especially when they are on a ladder.”
“Oh.” His smile is disarming. It has melted thousands upon thousands of panties all over the world. Mine included. “I’m sorry if I scared you.” His voice drops to a husky whisper. He’s not bothered one bit that I pushed him away. “I’m usually quite harmless.”
Yeah. Harmless as a baby rattlesnake.
He moves closer and I actually gulp. He quirks an eyebrow. God, it’s as sexy now as it was over a year ago.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” In one smooth motion, Greyson reaches above me, removing a book that is in immediate danger of sliding off the ladder’s shelf and clunking me right in the head. Then, with another obliging smile, he places much-needed distance between us. Six inches. A whole six inches. It’s not nearly enough. There needs to be six million miles stretched between us. I have the brains of a gnat where this man is concerned.
“Yes.”Do I sound flustered?I do. Which makes me even more flustered. “I just need…”What the hell do I need? Oh, yeah. Now I remember.“Need to pick up these books.”
“Let me help you…”
We both kneel.
Crack!
“Ouch!”
“Shit!” he says at the same time.
We literally just butted heads. Grimacing at each other, we rub our foreheads and stand again.
Greyson chuckles, raking a hand through that gorgeous head of hair my fingers are itching to caress. “Well, now that we just about knocked each other out, can I buy you lunch as a way of apology? And, I really am sorry I made you fall off the ladder… and drop all your books.”
I cartwheel into full-blown panic mode.
Dear God, I don’t want him to remember who I am. Don’t want him to remember that night in Hollywood, how he made me moan and cry and beg and come. On his fingers. On his tongue. On his cock. He doesn’t even know it was my first time. The evidence blended in so well with the duvet pattern, even I couldn’t see it.
I didn’t just lose my innocence that night. I lost my blue topaz and diamond bird necklace as well. The one Grandpop had made especially for me. It was the last gift he gave me. There’s a photo of us having lunch at The Shayla; it was Christmas. I’m wearing the necklace and we’re smiling. Such a strange moment. Happy and heartbroken, captured in the burst of a camera’s white flash.
I was more upset over losing that necklace than my virginity. Like my innocence, it was gone forever. Lost somewhere unknown. Tangled in that hotel comforter or buried in the backseat of the limo. Maybe it slid from my neck somewhere around center stage, landing in a sea of Converses, boots, and fuck-me heels, shining brightly on the dull concrete floor. Somebody from a cleaning crew might have found it. It could have been sucked up in a vacuum cleaner. Or some lucky girl spied its twinkle and picked it up. Maybe she’s wearing it now. I hope so.
“I don’t take lunches.” My tone is sharp, disguising the sob hanging in my throat. I swallow it down, focus instead on how young Greyson looks with shorter hair. It’s still long on top, shaved on the sides, but it’s not that ragged, glorious mass of waves from before. He’s clean-shaven, too, eyes bright and alert. Everything about him is sharpened, no longer murky from drugs and alcohol.
An unfamiliar quiver racks my stomach. I haven’t felt anything like it since I was with him. Greyson, the coked up, drunk rockstar was a seductive, swaying, mesmerizing cobra lulling me into complacency while I descended into chaos beside him. But this man, clean, sober, and on the hunt, is a sleek wolf waiting to pounce. He’s irresistible and I’m tempted, so very tempted to let him catch me. Devour me. Swallow me whole.
