Jagged Embrace

Chapter 81 - Ander

Ander woke with Maeve in his arms and breathed in her essence of rosemary and mint. Her warm skin was pressed against his. Her hands were under his shirt, they had crept there while they slept, now rested on his chest and torso. His mind and emotions were conflicted about the last twenty-four hours. After his slip last night, he was positive he could no longer compartmentalize things with her. Even when he attempted to conjure the image of Lila's crying face to distance himself - he could not. He was only aware of Maeve and that moment.

Ander was uncertain of the day or point when it occurred, but somehow she had become the center of his focus. Even his longings for magic or chemicals paled compared to his longing for her time, her touch. He wanted to inosculate himself with her so that they would never be separated. His need went far above sexual desires.

Will's snores indicated he would not rouse for several more hours. How could he face his cousin now, after his deplorable actions? He was a liar, always had been. First, out of necessity, then later for convenience, but he did not like to be dishonest with Will. Not about important topics. Was this fascination and longing what humans experienced if they were interested in an individual?

Maeve stirred, moving her hands. His skin puckered in response. He closed his eyes, visualizing performing an appendectomy. It was one of the most common surgeries for a less experienced surgeon. Her legs and hips moved, touching his. He sucked in his breath, his body screaming for action, to press himself against her. Ander clenched his jaw.

Her eyes fluttered open."Is everything okay? You're tense." Her palms slid across his torso.

He combated the urge to roll her onto her back and place his body on top of hers. "I am fine. I need to use the bathroom."

It was the truth, only not as urgent as he had made it sound. She removed her hands and pulled back. He immediately got up. As he did his morning routine, he pondered how he would manage the level of distraction and unease with her. He put his brown contacts back in, peering at the blank wall where the mirror had been. He sighed and opened the door.

Maeve sat in their bed, her waves tumbled around her. Thankfully, she went into the bathroom. He perched on the edge of the bed, recalling the taste of her blood on his lips, the feel of her throat against his mouth. His stomach weaved into knots. He raked his hair back. The situation was impossible.

She sat behind him. "Are we going to the cotton mill today?"

He had hoped she wanted breakfast and would sit at the table. "I do not know, perhaps."

If both he and Will could not clear their minds, it was not prudent to return to the cotton mill, simple retrieval or not.

"Hey." She scooted closer, the warmth of her skin radiated on his back. "Are you sure things are okay between us?"

"Yes."

"Then look at me."

He peered at her over his shoulder. The sunlight that crept from the crack between the wall and curtains highlighted her dark hair. It gave her red tones that reminded him of a sunset.

She placed her palm on his shoulder. "Really?"

Her beauty made his throat thick. He nodded.

"Not good enough. You have to say it."

"Yes, things are alright." He struggled, forcing the words from his mouth.

"I promise I'll stop doing that. I will," she told him firmly.

He nodded, but he did not want her to stop responding to him. He craved more. Was that all it was? He forced his will, and she simply responded? It had been two nights since he last spellcasted, but there was a correlation that linked his spellcasting to her reaction. Not one hundred percent, but a definite link. He turned to face her. Regardless of his lust, he would not will her actions. Ander understood too well the experience of engaging in sexual acts when someone else forced them, he would never do that to another person.