Synching With the Devil's Son

Chapter 22

Bella's P.O.V.

I awaken slowly when I feel the sun's rays infiltrating the tent's walls, sinking not so subtly into my eyes. I hear soft breathing next to me and when I look down to see my bloody shirt and soiled shorts, a gasp involuntarily leaves my mouth. The events of the previous evening tumble through my consciousness like an unwanted movie I am forced to watch. I'm still in my soiled clothes, but somebody put a towel between me and my sleeping bag to protect it from my filthy and bloody body.

Lucien.

He carried me back here, took my shoes and socks off, leaving my modesty intact by not removing any of my clothing. I turn over, grimacing when my sore muscles protest my movement, so I can gaze at the man who has started traversing the long, dark and cracked road leading to my broken soul. Lucien is sleeping on his side, facing me, lying on top of his sleeping bag. He put on a white tee shirt so I do not have the opportunity to scrutinize his perfect body while he sleeps, but what I can see, I inspect closely. His eyelashes are long, brushing the edge of his cheeks, and his hair, almost jet black, has a natural wave to it. Why do men always get the best hair and eyelashes? His right hand is laying palm down on the ground, so I take in the length of his strong fingers and the breadth of his solid wrist, tracing the veins that track up his forearm with my eyes. I resist the urge to trace the veins with my finger and continue my visual exploration up his massive bicep, over his broad deltoid to the junction of his neck. He must work out religiously to have such defined musculature. I gasp and feel my cheeks burn from embarrassment when I see his piercing blue eyes staring back at me. He smiles gently and murmurs, "Good morning Bella."

I can't look at him after being caught checking him out, so I tuck my head into my pillow and groan. I hear him chuckle lightly, then feel his fingers gently tuck my hair behind my ear and trace gentle patterns on my back. "Did you sleep well?" he whispers near my face, making my skin break out in goose flesh. I turn my head slightly so I'm looking at him with one eye and nod. The side of his lips quirk and he caresses my cheek with his finger so gently I have to stifle a moan of a different kind. I realize we are in a tent with all my friends around us, and I can hear them stirring, their quite murmurs and the sound of zippers and fabrics passing over one another let me know they are waking up too. I grab Lucien's finger that is currently stroking my cheek and kiss it. "Thank you," I whisper, watching his eyes soften as he looks down at me.

He nods once and then quirks his lips. "I'd like to kiss you good morning, will you let me?"

Holy shit, the feelings that surfaced between us last night were real, I wasn't imagining it! This animalistic intrusion of need settles in my stomach when I look at him. I turn my face toward him and smile, reaching up to play with the hair near his ear. Then I pull him toward me and our lips meet. The kiss is not heated, but it's not chaste either. It's a promise of something, something exciting and permanent. He is tasting me like he found his favorite flavor when I hear footsteps crunching over the hard pack as a shadow falls over the side of our tent. "Bella, are you in there?" Trish says loud enough to wake me up if I happened to still be sleeping. Geez, Trish, talk about a buzz kill.