Seduced by Innocence (11 page)

Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:

It was the nightingale, and not the lark,

That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear;

Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree:

Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

ROSE LOOKED READY
to kick ass when she snuck through the woods to my car. She slunk in and ducked down. "Hurry, before someone sees me."

"Should I start driving a car with tinted windows?" I asked, trying to keep the mood light.

I hated seeing her so scared of her own family. For all of my family's flaws, they always supported me in my life choices, even if they didn't like them. Rose looked a cross between terrified and angry, and I wanted to confront someone, anyone, and tell them to let go of the control they had over her, but I didn't yet have that right.

Maybe I never would.

The blistery winter day had stayed dry so far, but heavy clouds heralded rain in the near future. Tall trees stood as green sentinels on either side of us as we bumped along dirt and rock until we reached the main road.

Silence lingered, stifling all the unspoken words between us.

That morning I'd confided in my mother about Rose. She too had shared the story of how she met my father, and talked about how he patiently and persistently won her over.

"Did you not like him at first?" I had asked.

Mom's green eyes softened as she seemed to peer into the past. "I liked him very much, but I was scared. I'd never been in a serious relationship, and your grandparents had always encouraged me to explore the world before settling down. I didn't want to be like those other girls who jumped into bed, and into marriage, with the first handsome man who swept them off their feet."

Could that be what scared Rose? "What changed your mind?"

"Love changed my mind. When you find the one, when you share that spark of kismet, then it becomes inconceivable to walk through life with anyone else. More than that, it's impossible to imagine life without them. I made him work for that "yes" because I didn't want to be a pushover. But I knew from the beginning that he would be mine forever."

The talk left me cautiously optimistic that, despite such a shaky beginning, Rose and I might yet find our way through the obstacle course of this new passion.

I snuck a glance at her and heat rose inside me at her loveliness. "Do you want to talk about what happened last night?"

She smirked. "Which parts?"

"Any of them? All of them?"

"I'm not sure what to say about it. I feel like a fool for acting like I did on our date and putting us both in danger. You were really incredible, you know. Thank you for… everything."

I placed my hand on her gloved one, and wondered once again what secrets she kept in those gloves. "You don't have to thank me."

"And thank your sister for me. She's awesome. You're lucky; my sister hates me."

It seemed unbelievable that anyone could hate Rose, but I didn't argue. "That sucks."

She shrugged. "We've just had very different experiences in life."

She didn't bring up the puppies and what happened, so I didn't push, though I couldn't imagine who would do something so cruel and demented.

"Derek, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, anything." My heart raced, though I didn't understand why.

"Can you teach me some real fighting techniques? I know I'm not going to become Bruce Lee after a few lessons—or ever, really—but I need practical street fighting skills. After what happened last night with those guys… and at home… I just want to know I at least have a chance at defending myself. Is that possible?"

Her eyes pleaded with me to say yes, and if I could have used my magic to give her the strength she craved, I would have, but learning to fight didn't happen overnight. "I can teach you some techniques that will help you in a pinch, but I'll be honest, it takes time to get to the point where you can go up against someone with training and expect to survive. You're pretty small, and you're not going to be able to match the strength of even unskilled male attackers. But there are things you can do to help, and we can work on those, okay?"

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the seat. "Okay. Thank you."

Master Kyoung greeted us when we arrived at the studio. "I leave you two to practice. I have meeting in town, okay?"

Rose thanked him. "Oh, and I'm nearly done with your new website. I'll come by soon to show you."

He bowed and walked out, leaving us completely alone together, and my heart accelerated at the thought.

"Why don't you go change, and we can get started. But first, I have something for you." I pulled out the small jar of salve. "This will help you heal. Roll up your sleeve."

She pushed the blue fabric of her sweater up her arm, and I pulled the bandage open and rubbed in some of the cream.

"What's in it? It smells beautiful."

"It's a family recipe. Essential oils, mostly. It's all natural, but very effective."

I stuck the bandage back on. "We'll need to put one more coat on when we're done, then you can take it home. Apply twice a day until it's healed. It'll even help with scarring."

She looked at the jar in my hand. "Did you make that yourself?"

"Yes. Last night I couldn't sleep, and I wanted to give you something to help. I know it can't fix all the wounds inflicted on you, but it can at least help with this."

The distance between us closed as she pressed her body against me and wrapped her arms around my neck. I pulled her closer.

Her lips grazed against my earlobe. "Thank you, Derek. Thank you."

Some grief shows much of love,

But much of grief shows still some want of wit.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

HIS BODY PRESSED
against mine as he mimicked an attacker coming up behind me. I did as instructed. Instead of fighting him, I went against instinct and let my body go limp, so as to surprise him, but my body just wouldn't fully relax.

I threw a mock elbow punch to his groin but couldn't get past his defenses.

"Remember, unless he's wearing a cup, no guy's going to be functional if you hit him where it hurts. Don't be afraid to play dirty and be vicious. Grab his balls and tear them off. Hit as hard as you can, and once he's immobilized, run like hell. It's your best chance of escape."

He reached for me and pulled my hand toward his groin. Blood rushed to my face as I imagined cupping him much more gently than he was training me to do.

"You want to be ready to attack as soon as he gives you an in."

Pulling me against him, gripping both wrists hard, he held me. "Do you remember how to get out of this?"

I yanked my wrists, but he held firm.

"Thumb up and twist. Don't use brute force, that won't work."

Over and over we practiced these moves. Our bodies brushing against each other, the feel of his breath on my neck when he came up behind me, the hardness of his body when he pinned me to the ground.

He drilled me in each position, forcing me to escape, to free myself from his grasp. My muscles burned with the fire of new movement, getting stronger with each repetition.

These techniques required a certain submission that I had a hard time giving. The letting go of power in order to attain it was a foreign concept to me. Unnatural, even. I hoped that in a real life situation, muscle memory would kick in, and I'd be able to let go, to go limp in the arms of my attacker in order to escape. To twist instead of pull, using leverage rather than force to free my wrists from bondage.

But the only way my muscles would remember was if I kept practicing.

Soon enough I mastered the groin shots and even got the hang of the wrist move. But no matter how hard I tried, I still stiffened and fought rather than relaxed when he attacked from behind. Overriding my natural survival instinct turned out to be harder than I imagined, even if this particular instinct wouldn't help me survive.

"Breathe through it. Remember that it's a strategy that will give you the clear shot to hit and escape. Think of it as a feint. You're not really giving in, you're psyching your attacker out. It's just a trick. Ready to try it again?"

I bent over to catch my breath, hands perched on my knees to keep me upright. "Yeah, just give me a second."

"You're doing great, Rose, honestly. I'm really proud of you. This isn't easy to learn in one night. And really, we have time. We can keep working on it. It doesn't all have to happen now."

Oh, but it did. I might not be able to sneak out again. I might not see him after today. And next week, I had to face an enemy I didn't know how to defeat. An enemy I didn't understand at all.

And yet, knowing I might not see Derek again hurt far more than thoughts of our upcoming battle with the Druids.

He drew me to him both emotionally and physically, in a way that defied logic and reason. I wanted to know him intimately and, more than that, I wanted to be known by him. A fluttering of panic built up in my chest like angry bees when I thought of sharing my darkest secrets with him.

More than telling him witches were real, and I was one. More than revealing the attacks my family had been under recently. To be truly close with anyone, I would have to confess the darkness that lived in me. I would have to tell him everything and, if I did that, he'd never want to see me again; of that I was certain.

I'd known from the beginning I should walk away, say goodbye before I hurt us both, but it was too late for that. Pain had already inserted itself into our lives. I couldn't save myself from it.

So why was I still here, pressed against him, taking in every look, every touch, every unspoken message shared between us?

I never imagined that lust, or perhaps love, could have this hold on someone. A vice squeezed every drop of joy from my heart each time I imagined my world without him. Had it only been a few short days since I first set eyes on him? It felt like a lifetime.

He reached behind me once again, pulling me against him, and this time I stopped fighting. Surrendering to his arms, to us, to the magic and mystery that held us together in a world determined to tear us apart, I let go.

When my body collapsed in his arms, he adjusted to catch me, and I feigned an attack on his nether regions, though my intentions in that department had nothing to do with pain, and everything to do with pleasure.

He spun me around, grinning from ear to ear. "You did it, Rose! That was awesome."

Heart beating out of my chest, legs weak and wobbly, I gripped his muscular arms to steady myself. "I did, didn't I?"

Time stood still as we clung to each other. We could have been the only two people in the world, for all that the world mattered to us in that moment.

"Rose." His voice came out thick and husky—the sound of desire and longing.

My head tilted back, lips parted, a buzz of anticipation shooting through my body.

Everything beyond his eyes, his body, his presence, faded into a blur as he became hyper-focused.

He leaned in with a cautious hesitancy, and I could see the uncertainty in his eyes. The unspoken question: "Will you run again?"

I stood on my toes to reach his mouth with mine, answering his desire with wordless lips.

The mysteries of the universe locked into place as his lips pressed against mine.

With a gentle urgency, he peppered kisses on the surprisingly sensitive skin of my jawline, up to my ear. His tongue flicked out and teeth latched on to tug at my lobe, then, using his teeth, he drew a line of fire down my neck.

A moan escaped my lips as his hand moved under the top of my uniform, touching the burning flesh of my waist and moving up toward my ribs.

His hand reached my breasts, and I sucked in the air around me as it slipped between my sports bra and my skin.

With deepening urgency, his lips found mine, his tongue probing my mouth as his thumb flicked my hard nipple, tugging it until an electric pulse of need traveled down my body and into my lower abdomen.

When his hand cupped my breast completely, rough and gentle and strong, I thrust my hips against his, wanting so badly to feel him inside me. All those times I used my own hand, my own finger, what would it feel like with his hand, his fingers, his cock?

I'd read romance novels. I knew the carnal pleasures that could be had. I wasn't ashamed of my body or this need. My pussy ached for release, for his body to fill me, to stroke me, to bring me to climax.

Claiming my own boldness, I let my hand explore the hard contours of his muscles until I reached his throbbing cock. This time he moaned as I stroked him through his pants and my gloves.

The feel of him, so large and thick and hard, sent lightning through my body.

I didn't feel my own power open up and hitch a ride on this passion.

Didn't feel when it wormed its way into Derek through our skin-to-skin contact.

Didn't know I was slowly killing him until his kisses slowed and he lost his breath.

Looking into his eyes, I saw the light fade as his face lost its color, and I pulled away, putting emptiness between us.

Filling myself with emptiness.

My desire for him deepened, even as I tied my uniform back together.

My grief filled me, even as he moved to touch me.

"Rose, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just think we're moving a bit fast, and it's getting late. I need to get home." I waited for him to argue, to say that he didn't want me to leave, that he needed me as much as I needed him.

"Yeah, you're probably right. I'm sorry." He pressed his hand to his head. "I guess this worked me out harder than I realized. I'm feeling a bit lightheaded."

My heart dropped into my stomach as my worst fears were confirmed.

No matter what I did, I'd never escape this curse.

If I ever gave into my passions, I'd destroy us both.