Souls of Fire (20 page)

Now all I had to do was live with it and try not to let it show too much so that I could retain at least
some
dignity.

I was just about to turn back on my left side, away from him, convinced our conversation was over ― for what was there left to talk about ― when Aaron stopped me.

“What …,” I began, puzzled.

“Shhh …,” Aaron whispered in a voice so low and soft it took my breath away, especially as his body was slowly moving closer to mine.

His left hand moved into my hair, his fingers weaving through the long red curls and downward to the nape of my neck, his thumb stroking my soft flesh enticingly while giving me a heated look.

“You’re seducing me,” I whispered in a low, calm voice, for once brave enough to call a spade a spade.

“Yes,” Aaron whispered back, his voice suggestive, his actions deliberate as his right arm slid to the bottom of my shirt, slowly tugging it out of my jeans.

“The question is: will you let me?”

As his hand slid under the shirt and touched the exposed skin of my belly, I jerked nervously in surprise.

My arm shot forward and stopped him from going any further, my hand resting on his and holding it down, although both of us knew he could have moved it if he had wanted to.

“That depends,” I answered and waited for him to enquire further.

“Depends on what?” he asked, his gaze roaming over my body provocatively now that his hand had been halted.

I waited until his eyes found mine again. When I was certain I had his undivided attention, I said:

“On whether or not you’re just playing with me.”

“You mean you’d like to know what my intentions are,” Aaron qualified, obviously amused by being presented with the question normally asked by the father of a girl right before a date, in order to intimidate the boy, which was then followed by a threat to cut him into a million tiny pieces if he didn’t keep his hands to himself.

I didn’t answer but waited for his response.

Only … his response was not what I had expected. He didn’t play by the rules. His hands stayed where they were, but he didn’t need his hands to seduce me.

Aaron leaned forward and kissed me, his sensual, soft, warm lips moving over mine, his teeth leisurely tugging on my bottom lip, slowly but surely enticing me to let go of my tight control.

As I gave into his seduction and parted my lips, his kiss deepened, his tongue moving against mine teasingly in an arousing way. I knew I had lost the fight already. Seduction had never been this easy, I assumed.

But then, I was a willing subject. I had known from the beginning that I would have no power to resist him once he started his move on me.

Either I was too easy, or he was just too good. But, what else could I have expected from a player? He must have had a lot of women. I would be one more in his collection if I didn’t find a way to become immune to his charms.

Aaron’s hand cupped the back of my head, bringing me closer to him, pulling me deeper into our kiss. His body was pressed up tightly against mine, our legs intertwined.  His other hand caressed my back.

I threw caution to the winds. If I died that same day, I would regret nothing, I would cherish that moment, even if it meant something different to him than it did to me.

I would take what he would give me. I had no choice. I was beyond the point of no return. Even if I didn’t share some strange bond with him, I would have felt the same. I had known the first time I’d laid eyes on him, when I had been terrified by my strong reaction to him. I was no longer terrified.

I finally stopped lying there passively and responded in full with all the passion I felt inside of me. When my hands clawed desperately at Aaron’s shirt and couldn’t open it fast enough, I tore it open, scattering the buttons in all directions.

Aaron’s startled gaze met mine for a moment, before I reached out and drew him in again, desperate for his kiss, my hands caressing Aaron’s bare, beautifully tanned skin, his muscular chest, leisurely making their way down toward his stomach.

Our kisses grew more and more heated. Aaron’s hand had moved from my back to my belly and was slowly making its way toward my chest. His fingers moved over the fabric of my bra, caressing me through the fabric. I moaned with the sheer overwhelming pleasure I was feeling.

I had never been so close to any man. Now I was being kissed and caressed by a man half the student body would have killed to be with. I felt confident all of a sudden; I felt elated, powerful … on fire…

A
aron asked himself what the fuck he thought he was doing. He was making a huge mistake, he was certain of it. How, he wondered, had he gotten himself into this situation again?

And the worst part of it was: he had only himself to blame! She had been ready to turn away from him. The conversation had been over; he could have just let her turn around and everything would have been fine.

Now, things were far from fine! He couldn’t offer her what he knew she really wanted. He didn’t know how to be in a real, steady relationship. All he was good at was hit and run.

She had no less than pleaded with him not to seduce her in the first place if he was only going to toy with her emotions.  But he hadn’t been able to resist.

The way she had lain there in his arms ― that look on her face, the emotion in her eyes, the way her body had shivered in response to his nearness; that wasn’t something he could just ignore. Every fiber of his being had wanted her, and he had given in to it.

He had not only seduced her, they had seduced each other.

She might not have realized it, but she had seduced him as well. Was there anything more seductive than a person in love with you? The way she had looked, so beautiful, innocent and vulnerable, wearing her heart on her sleeve ― the ultimate seduction.

And so he had surrendered ― comforted by the thought that he at least had his emotions in check if not his urges, and that he remained, on the whole, in control of his body. Even if he had given in to lust, she couldn’t make him do anything he didn’t want to do.

He always knew
exactly
what he was doing when he slept with a woman. His actions were deliberate, purposeful; he had never let himself spin wildly out of control ― he needed to be in control.

But she had surprised him.

She had suddenly sprung to life in his arms, seizing control, reeling him in and making his head spin and his knees grow weak ― throwing him completely off guard.

That was when he realized how dangerous she really was! If he couldn’t even control his actions anymore, then he was in deep shit.

And he couldn’t. He was unable to stop touching her, couldn’t stop kissing her, didn’t want to; he couldn’t stop what they had set in motion. He had lost control. But so, he thought, had she.

All he could do was watch ― terrified ― what his body was doing while getting pulled in farther and farther by the pleasurable sensations washing over him.

They were reeling, heading in a direction that for some reason ― though he couldn’t have explained it if he had tried ― he sensed was of catastrophic proportions.

While his hands were unbuttoning her shirt, he struggled one last time to regain control and stop what he was doing before it was too late.

As he struggled with all his might, his eyes caught movement on Persephone’s chest. And what he saw there, freaked him out so much, he was finally able to pull free of her and get to his feet, in control again at last.

Using his last bit of strength, he managed to keep his body from shaking in response to her and what had nearly happened between them; and from what he had just witnessed.

As he stood there gazing down at Persephone, he still had difficulty believing what he had seen: the rose on Persephone’s chest had been stirring, a petal had opened up in bloom while he’d been watching.

Now that they had stopped, the image was no longer changing but remained innocently unchanged since he’d had his eyes glued to it, as if it had never happened, as if he had merely imagined it ― only he hadn’t. It had definitely changed.

Two petals were opened up in bloom while the rest remained shut around the bud. Now that he thought about it, he believed the image he had seen in his dream had been that of a completely shut rose. Or maybe one petal had been open; he wasn’t sure.

“What the hell …,” Aaron muttered under his breath.

“Exactly,” Persephone said in response, “what are you doing?” she asked, seemingly more than a little perturbed by his sudden ‘escape’.

She looked confused and hurt.

“What did I do?” she asked, her voice unsteady, her head tilted forward while her shaky hands were busying themselves with trying to put herself back together, her fingers fumbling awkwardly with the buttons on her shirt.

Oh no,
Aaron thought,
now I’ve done it!
He could tell she was a total mess. He had gotten her to give in to his urging, to drop her defenses, to open up to him. And she had responded passionately, with abandon, only to be dumped on the mattress and left there alone as if she were contagious.

What had he done? She was probably crying, Aaron thought in a panic, not knowing how he could explain himself in a way that would make her forgive him.

Now that he thought about the explanation he would give her, the only justification he could offer was of having been shocked by the image of the rose shifting; he couldn’t get into the real reason he had wanted to distance himself from her: his fear ― of her. She wouldn’t understand, Aaron sighed inwardly.

She was sitting there looking so miserable, he had to do something. Leaving out the real reason for his behavior toward her, he thought about how best to direct her attention to her little ‘tattoo’ without freaking her out as well. But he had to tell her as soon as possible, he couldn’t just stand there and keep silent any longer while she looked so … lost.

Steeling himself, Aaron quietly sat back down next to her. She wouldn’t even look at him, he thought, a hard lump building in his throat.

“Persephone,” he said in a soft, apologetic voice, tilting his head toward her to get her attention. But she just ignored him; her head still tilted forward, her features resigned and incredibly sad.

It was worse than any of her outbursts of anger had been, Aaron thought, his heart aching for the hurt he had ― once again ― caused her. It seemed lately he was spending all of his time and energy on apologizing!

Just speaking to her wasn’t nearly good enough, Aaron decided, and gently took her hands in his. When she still didn’t react, he slowly tilted her chin up until she had no alternative but to look at him.

He could see humiliation in her brimming eyes.

“There’s nothing to be humiliated about,” he said, gazing intently into her eyes, hoping she could see the sincerity in his. “You did
nothing
wrong.”

“But I thought …,” Persephone started, letting the rest of her sentence fall away.

“You thought what?” Aaron enquired.

“Nothing,” Persephone said quickly, clearly not wanting to get into it any further.

“You thought you weren’t … exciting … me?” Aaron asked in a gentle voice.

And when he saw verification in the way she reacted to his question, he added in a low, shaky voice: “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

That, at last, got her attention. Her eyes darted to his, apparently searching for some kind of indication that he didn’t mean what he had just said. When she obviously found none, Aaron could almost feel her relief.

“Then why … did you … jump away from me in such a panic?” Persephone asked; her voice already more secure than it had been a moment before.

“I … this will sound crazy … but it’s the only explanation I have to offer, and it happens to be the truth,” Aaron said, trying to prepare Persephone for the absurdity that was to follow.

“O-kay,” Persephone responded, emphasizing the ‘o’ to let him know her patience with hearing and accepting whacky explanations was limited.

“Your rose … thingy … whatever it is, was starting to open up.” Aaron stated matter-of-factly.

For a moment Persephone said nothing.

“You’re right …,” Persephone then said in a serious tone, astounding Aaron, who couldn’t believe she was actually accepting this information at face value, “… it sounds crazy.”

He knew it was too good to be true; served him right to mistake her sarcasm for sincerity. Of course it couldn’t be this easy!

“Okay, I’m sorry, I should have explained it better,” Aaron admitted.

“I agree,” Persephone retorted, “and for the record: it’s a birthmark, or at least that’s how it started out.”

Aaron watched as her gaze wandered down and came to rest on her birthmark, taking in the newly formed image of a rose with two opened petals at the base. He thought he saw a brief shadow flit over her face before she quickly hid her emotions. Whatever she had seen visibly disturbed her.