Monster (Impossible #1) (12 page)

Sean was on his feet in an instant, positioning himself between his friend and me.  His expression was taut, the lines of his face etched with anger.  “I didn’t do that,” he growled.

Bradley glared at him.  “Well I sure as hell didn’t.  What did she do, slam her face against the wall?”

“No,” Sean said quietly.  “She was attacked in the street last night.  After she escaped,” he added reluctantly.

“What?!”
  Bradley demanded, his face a thunderhead.  He tried to sidestep his friend to get to me, but Sean blocked him again.

“Calm down, Bradley,” Sean ordered levelly.  “I got her back, and everything’s fine now.  Besides,” he
added, his tone hard.  “
You
forgot to lock the door.  Did you expect her to just stay here when she knew she had a way out?”

Bradley’s eyes clouded over in confusion.  “I’m sure I did…”  Then he shook his head.  “Fuck.  I was so tired last night.  I guess I screwed up.”  He eyed my injury again and smiled in grim satisfaction.  “At least it looks like you got what you deserved, bitch.  I hope that teaches you a lesson.”

Sean growled, his fingers curling to fists.  “Get out, Bradley,” he said, the warning in his tone clear.

Bradley took an involuntary step back, his eyes wide with shock.  “What the fuck, Sean?”  He demanded.  “Are you really going to fight me? 
Because of
her?
  What has she done to you?”  His eyes narrowed at me.  “I don’t think she should stay in here with you anymore.  I’m moving her to my room.”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the handcuffs.  I couldn’t suppress a shudder as they glinted cruelly in the morning light.

“No,” Sean said, fury bleeding into his tone.  “Get out, Bradley,” he ordered again. 
“Now.”  That aura of power surrounded him again, rolling off of him in forbidding waves.

Bradley paused, glaring at his friend.  “Fuck you, Sean,” he spat.  But mercifully he shoved the cuffs back into his pocket and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him before locking it with a sound of finality.

I let out the breath that I didn’t realize I had been holding.  “Thank you,” I said, my voice small.

Sean didn’t answer me.  “Ass,” he muttered under his breath.  He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and drawing in a deep breath.  When he opened them again, they were clear of that furious light that had filled
them moments before.  His cocky mask was back in place, and he shot me that sexy, roguish smile.

I felt an odd twinge of pity for him; my presence here was clearly destroying his relationship with his best friend.  Part of me hated the thought of having caused him pain.  But on the other hand, it was
his own fault.  If he would just let me go, he and Bradley wouldn’t be fighting all the time.

But his grin remained firmly in place as he made a visible effort to shove back his consternation.  He did a good job of hiding it, but I could see the turmoil in his eyes.

Nevertheless, he moved nonchalantly as he reached out for the bookshelf, taking down
A Storm of Swords
and handing it to me.

“We’ll make a nerd of you yet,” he grinned.  I couldn’t hold back an answering smile.

“Don’t count on it,” I retorted lightly.

But as I took the book from him, my fingers brushed against his.  A little jolt shot up my arm, my fingertips tingling like I had just received a shock of static electricity.  Our eyes met, and the darkness that I saw in his let me know that he had felt it too.

I drew away from him quickly.  “Thanks,” I said, trying to keep my voice level.

Recognizing the dismissal, he pulled away as well, allowing me my personal space.  Still, as he settled down beside me with his copy of the
Mistborn
series, I couldn’t help but long for more of that delicious contact.  After our steamy kiss last night, I knew just how good his touch could feel.

I stared at the pages of my book, but none of the words were sinking in.  Instead, I was driven to distraction by thoughts of our brief moment of passion in the bathroom, flashes of decidedly discomfiting memories flitting across my mind.  I found myself shifting my position often, crossing and uncrossing my legs as I fought to ignore the insistent tingling between my thighs.

I could sense Sean watching me occasionally, could practically feel his lopsided smirk as his eyes flitted over me.  But ignored him resolutely; I didn’t want to invite more flirtatious behavior.  I knew that I wouldn’t be able to handle it.  With a few words and the lightest of touches, he would pull me back under his spell, exerting that power over me that I couldn’t seem to resist succumbing to.

Unbearably long, uncomfortable hours passed as I mechanically turned the pages of my book.  When the late afternoon sunlight began slanting through the window, I finally broke; I couldn’t handle the tense silence any longer.

With a heavy sigh, I allowed my eyes to focus on Sean, as they had been longing to do all day.  He met my gaze immediately, his smile holding an edge of triumph at my capitulation, as though he had just won some small battle between us.  And damn it if he hadn’t.

“So,” he began.  “What do you want to talk about?”

Not last night, that’s for sure.

“Not the weather,” I said instead, allowing a small smile to play around my lips.

“Okay,” he said easily.  “How about you tell me more about you.”  It was a statement, not a question.  My stomach dropped slightly; I wasn’t really one for sharing.  He had let me get away with the abbreviated version of my life when we had spoken before.  I didn’t know how much I was ready to reveal to him now.

“Okay,” I assented, somewhat reluctantly.

“How is it that you don’t have a husband or boyfriend?”  He asked bluntly.  “You’re intelligent, successful, beautiful; How come some dashing, wealthy businessman hasn’t snapped you up by now?”

I fought back a frown.  We were already treading into painful territory.  But a part of my mind was amazed at his assessment of me. 
“Intelligent, successful, beautiful”? 
He didn’t think me a cold fish who was basically man repellent?

“I just haven’t had the time to date,” I hedged.

“Ah,” he said.  “The classic workaholic excuse.”  He speared me with a look that penetrated more than skin-deep.  “What’s the real reason, Claudia?”  He asked softly.

I glared at him, not ready to divulge the real reason: my carefully-guarded pain that had hardened my heart in the years since my parents had died.

His expression softened.  “Okay,” he moved on, allowing me my secret.  “When was the last time you
did
go on a date?”

Great.
  We had gone from painful to embarrassing.  But the silence between us was driving me crazy, so I was desperate for a distracting conversation.  That was what made me crack.

I sighed, capitulating.  “Seven years,” I admitted, unable to meet his eye as I said it.

He let out a low whistle.  “Damn,” he said, a touch of incredulity coloring his tone.  “So that was what, during college?”

“Yeah,” I said.  Well, now that I had started, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to give him this whole story.  It wasn’t like there was much to tell anyway.  “H
e was a junior, I was a sophomore.  He said he loved me, and I believed him.  But it wasn’t much more than a fling.  It was over before the end of Spring semester.”

“Ouch,” Sean said.  “Sounds like a real douchebag.”

“Pretty much,” I agreed.  After my trust had been betrayed by the first man I had ever been with, I had given up on the whole idea of dating.  I had told myself that my career was more important.  But ever since I had been taken by Bradley, I had been forced to realize how unfulfilled my life truly was.  Sean had been right; I might as well have been a robot, devoid of human emotion.

But now he was getting under my skin, slowly chipping away at my walls.  And I couldn’t decide if I was grateful or resentful.

“Have you had sex since then?”

I gasped.  Wow.  Had he actually just asked me that?  I glared at him again.  That was far too personal. 
And definitely not something that I wanted to admit to him, not when he clearly had
a lot
of experience under his belt.

He chuckled at my forbidding expression.  “Alright, alright,” he said, placating.  “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”  But his dancing eyes told me he knew my answer full well.

“New topic,” he continued on.  “Why did you choose to become a pediatrician instead of a surgeon like your dad?”

God, was a there a single question he could ask me that didn’t hit a nerve?

“I told you,” I said.  “I like helping kids.”

“Why?”  He pressed.

I was quiet for a moment.  But something in me wanted to share this part of me, craved the release of talking about it, as though it would draw the pain out of my soul like poison from a wound.

“Because they need someone watching out for them.”
  I took a deep breath.  “Like no one watched out for me.”  My voice was barely audible.

His hand covered mine, the warmth of it seeping into me, comforting me in a way that I hadn’t known since my parents had died.  I looked up at him through suddenly damp lashes, dreading to see the pity that would fill his eyes.  But there was nothing there but compassion, empathy even.

He knew; he understood.  I remembered the way that his expression had tightened when he had admitted that his mother was dead, how he had reluctantly accepted my silent comfort as I held his hand under the dinner table.  I realized in that moment that it was more than simply lust that pulled me to him; I had only seen flashes of his pain, but I could tell that deep down he was just as broken as I was.

My fingers entwined with his, trusting him to see my vulnerability.  Without thinking, I found myself leaning into him.  He held perfectly still, his breathing turning shallow as I slowly, tentatively pressed my lips to his.

There was a moment of hesitation, as though he didn’t want to spook me.  Then his hot mouth gently shaped itself around mine.  His hand was around the nape of my neck, not tugging at my hair as he had done the night before, but firmly holding me in place for him nonetheless.  I shuddered at the sensation of the dominance of even this light touch, and I felt myself melting for him, giving myself over to him.

His tongue traced the line of my lips, and I opened for him.  He stroked into my mouth, shallow forays as his tongue teased the tip of mine.  A low, husky moan that I hardly recognized as my own escaped me as my body voiced my craving for more.  He responded instantly, no longer holding back.

His hand shifted to the front of my throat, applying pressure so that I was forced down onto the pillows.  The act awoke something primal within me, the recognition of his utter dominance making me go limp beneath him as I demonstrated my submission to the alpha male.  And all the while his tongue never left my mouth.  It was now delving into me deeply, making me think of other places where he might penetrate me…

I could feel my nipples hardening and my pussy contracting.

Pussy. 
I had never thought of my sex in such lewd terms before.  But the raw nature of the word felt right when Sean was taking me like this, claiming my body.

He suddenly tore his mouth from mine, and I whined at the loss.  But his lips were instantly on me again, brushing against the sensitive skin at the hollow beneath my ear.  My flesh warmed as he kissed it, tracing little figure-of-eight patterns across the sensitive area with his hot tongue.  Then he drew back, pursing his lips and blowing cool air across my enflamed skin.  I shivered, all of my nerve endings jumping to life at the sharply contrasting temperatures.

His low, rumbling chuckle seemed to vibrate through me, letting me know that he knew exactly what he was doing to me.  It was a sound of purely masculine satisfaction; he was relishing toying with me, teasing me.

His hands suddenly fisted in the thin material of my nightshirt.  He
paused a beat, grinning down at me predatorily as I watched him with bated breath.  With a sharp jerk of his powerful arms, the fabric parted for him easily.

The sudden cool air on my hyper-sensitive breasts, the pure eroticism of the act, made me arch up into him, silently begging for his touch.  But his hand was on my sternum, shoving me back into the mattress roughly.

“I didn’t say you could move,” he growled.

I moaned, and I wasn’t sure if it was from frustration or arousal at his words.  My clit was pulsing madly, throbbing in need.  And he was so close to my burning nipples.  If only he would touch them…

He obliged me immediately, and I only remembered just in time to keep still beneath him.  It took every ounce of my willpower to do so as his tongue flicked across the hardened peak, sending a jolt of electricity straight from my breast to my sex, making it clench around nothing.  I whimpered beneath him, needing more.  I could feel his smile against my flesh as he slowly kissed around my areola, teasing me, torturing me.

Then his teeth closed around my nipple, biting hard.  I cried out at the shock of it, amazed to find that the spike of sharp pain only made my pussy burn hotter.  I writhed beneath him, no longer able to resist disobeying his order.  I could feel his hard cock against my hip, and I craved for him to fill me with it.