18. Chapter 18
Chapter 18
Delilah
I can’t believe my traitorous wolf side chose this one, perfect moment to betray me. Even more, I can’t believe I managed not to give in to its whims.
Not completely, at least.
A dozen thoughts just crossed my mind, at least ten of them about how I might have hurt Cedric or he might have noticed the claws and fur resting atop his linen pants, but the second I shut my brain off and kiss him, they all but evaporate, along with my clawed hand. One strong arm circles my middle, and in a second Cedric propels us upwards, out of the water, our lips still touching, as if we’re both refusing to let go of each other. I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers digging into his damp nape. My lips part as his tongue asks for entrance, every stroke sure and warm, and making a wonder of my nerve endings. We part, regrettably, but only to come up for air, lips hovering a scarce inch from each other’s. I know my hair is plastered to my face, and my dress must be see-through by now, but I cannot bring myself to care. Not when Cedric’s eyes flicker between mine, glassy and dark. Hungry.
“Are you cold?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Are you?”
The corner of his mouth kicks up as he pulls me impossibly close. “Seems like you’re the one who’s put other thoughts in my mind,” he says in my ear. Even though it’s a low rasp, all other sounds are drowned out by his voice, my every sense focused on the space he occupies.
“Should we get out, or–” I start as we bob above the placid surface, though my brain short circuits when Cedric presses his lips to a spot beneath my jaw, making me dizzy with want. I have never felt this way before.
“Probably,” he says lazily, trailing a few other kisses down my neck. “Getting sick again would delay my intention of taking my time to kiss you as thoroughly as you should be kissed.”
I don’t know what’s going on with me, wolfish intrusions aside, but those words turn my insides to jello, and I can feel tears prickling at my eyes. Before Cedric can see I’m being inappropriately emotional, I begrudgingly let go of him, turning toward our capsized boat.
“Are you alright?” Cedric asks as we push to turn it on its back again. Although Cedric is clearly in great shape, this morning’s sickness aside, I momentarily forget I’m not supposed to be much stronger than him; he’s barely joined me in the effort that I’ve already managed the feat. I grimace as I propel myself upward and in the boat, Cedric following me with a grunt shortly after .
“Yeah, of course,” I finally say, and I mean it. I’m more than alright, I’m electrified. On fire–if soaking wet. And all he had to do to achieve that was kiss me. What effect would anything else with him do to me?
I lean to the side and retrieve one oar, nails digging into the rough wood, and if I get a couple of splinters, anything is better than ruining this moment by being overly sensitive. As much as Cedric might think he knows me, I’ve been concealing all the ugly parts. If he found out what I am, he would run for the hills, wouldn’t he? As he should. For all the talk I’ve been doing about putting me first, about being okay to want things for myself despite my circumstances… it’s going to get harder by the minute.
Because I can still feel the pressure of his lips against mine, the sensation of his corded arm around me, his body melding with mine.
Because there is no sliver of doubt in my mind that I am already on the precipice of falling for this grouchy, stubborn, caring, man.
And I can never have him.
Cedric
Once we’re back on pier and–me, at least–ragingly turned on, I help Delilah squeeze the fresh water out of her locks.
“You know, I think I have figured you out,” I say, blond-red strands sliding through my fingers.
“What?” Delilah stammers, her body visibly stiffening. My brows furrow at the reaction.
“You enjoyed my hair-brushing skills so much you’ve concocted a plan to get your hair wet around me again.”
Delilah turns to me, her shoulders slumping in something like relief as she breathes out a laugh.
“You got me! See? That’s one thing you’re proficient at,” she says with another chuckle.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” I ask again after a beat, looking straight into her eyes.
She smiles feebly, placing her palm against my pec. “Yeah.”
I tilt my head to the side, considering her as I move damp strands behind her shoulder. “I won’t insist, but… you can tell me. If something is bothering you.” I take a breath and clear my throat before adding, “That kiss meant something to me.”
“It meant something to me, too,” she says with a smile, though I can see some kind of sadness behind it, and I don’t understand why it’s there. “It meant a lot.”
I nod as we stay like this for a minute, gazing into each other’s eyes. It feels like we’re both on the verge of saying something more, but a shiver suddenly rattles Delilah’s small form.
“Alright, now I’m a little cold,” she laughs. “Oh! I brought a cardigan, it should be in my bag.”
I jog to retrieve her things as I squeeze water out of my shirt, the bag perched against a short stake on the pier. I spot the bundle of white fabric right away, and when I reach to take it out, my hand comes in contact with something ice cold, likely made of… metal? I can’t help it and peer inside the bag as Delilah comes toward me, and that’s when I realize what I inadvertently touched.
A pair of shiny, sturdy-looking handcuffs.