Chapter 18 #2
Lowell smiles lecherously, his face dusting a deep crimson. He acts as though he’s been caught red-handed. As if his lies have ever been convincing.
“Why do you think I invited you?” he asks.
I sigh. “I’m tired of you answering my questions with more questions, Lowell.”
He chuckles, amused by my irritation. “You’re no fun,” he says with a sigh.
“Although I was mostly angry with you, my emotions were muddled. I invited you because I…” Hesitation hangs in his throat, reluctant to speak before finally letting himself go.
“I thought I was attracted to you. I wanted to have you alone with me purely out of selfish curiosity. I loved that fiery glare in your eyes each time you scowled at me, and I wanted so badly to see it again… and again and again. More than anything, I desired to see those green eyes roll, glaring at me and filled with disgust and hatred.”
He scratches the back of his neck, timidly. “I told Ginny that dinner for you was a reward, and she advised me to send the food to your cell. I insisted on bringing you to the dining hall… and then you know the rest.”
“Wait, you thought you were attracted to me?” I point out, rubbing my lips together. The lewd look I get from Lowell as I do so does not go unnoticed.
He clears his throat awkwardly. “The line between lust and hate is oddly thin.”
I hold his gaze with guarded eyes. I don’t want an answer, but I also need to know so desperately my heart may burst.
“Well… how do you feel now?”
Lowell’s pupils dilate again, spreading across his iris like a sweeping shadow. He speaks with conviction, no longer stumbling over his words. “I no longer think I’m attracted to you. I am.”
The fluttering butterflies explode in my stomach, goosebumps rising over my skin. My hair stands on end.
This is really bad.
I press my palm to my cheeks, my body set ablaze. “Even after everything we just talked about? You told me I’m a murderer.”
Lowell presses his tongues to the tip of his fangs. “Takes one to know one.”
“Stop joking around. I’m being serious!” I shout, flustered.
I’m tired of him running circles around my questions, especially ones as serious as these. My heart can’t take it anymore.
Gently rolling his eyes, Lowell sways his clawed feet in sync with the lolling of his head.
“If I had a good reason, I’d tell you, but I don’t.
My heart doesn’t hate you nearly as much as my head, and that’s the only explanation I can offer.
Sorry to say, but there isn’t some complicated romantic reason. ”
Oddly enough, I feel similarly about him.
The irrationality of my attraction often feels like a cosmic joke, but the strength with which it burns makes me wonder if the circumstances of our lives would have ever mattered at all.
He’s arrogant, dense, and controlled by his emotions, but he’s also loyal, protective, and quick to make jests.
As I continue to learn about Lowell and hear his laugh, hisses, and quips — the more his status as my enemy seems insignificant.
“How long have you felt this way?” I ask, my chest rising rapidly with anticipation.
A devilish grin pulls at Lowell’s lips, his sharp teeth reflecting in the lamplight.
“When you tried to stab me with that fork.” His laugh is reminiscent-yet-filthy.
“I was completely and totally captivated. Like I said, never before has a human tried to fight or resist me with such ferocity, let alone unarmed. Goddess, I was so fucking hard when you kicked me.”
I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. While this man is clearly a maniac, my affection for him feverishly blossoms no matter how hard I try to fight it.
“Did you lose attraction for me when I tended to your wound? That wasn’t very ferocious of me,” I jest, nodding at his favored leg.
Lowell swipes at his lips, his split tongue branching out to either side. “Absolutely not, because I knew then that you had some sort of feelings for me too. If you didn’t, you would have let me die.”
I suck my lips into my mouth.
He laughs pointedly at my shock at being found out, sticking a claw out at me.
“Sucking my cock obediently isn’t ferocious or combative either, you know.
You kind of gave yourself away with that one.
” His words are a low and sultry hiss. “Lucky for you, I don’t need you to fight me to get an erection, anymore. ”
I shyly place my hand over my face. “You’re wrong. You have no idea how I feel about you, Lowell.”
He gives a dismissive look, one eyebrow rising. “You forget that I can smell the arousal on you, idiot. You’re not as discreet as you think you are. It smells like a damn brothel in this tent half the time.”
“Excuse me?” I gasp, my voice cracking. Embarrassment stabs at my cheeks like a thousand needles, complete mortification stinging over my skin.
Lowell bellows a laugh so hearty and deep his eyes wrinkle, his hand reaching for his side. He gasps for air, the laughter quickly dying to a soft cackle between wheezes, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.
His genuine laugh is so cute.
My body reacts without thought, warmth pooling between my legs.
I greedily drink in the cream-colored scales on Lowell’s nearly bare chest as it rises and falls.
I’m enamored by his scars, his threatening eyes, and his claws that could cut through steel — all of which are juxtaposed by his immature attitude and goofy smile.
“I was never trying to be discreet! Your senses are invasive and unfair,” I refute, distracting myself by painting on the last layer of the metallic liquid.
He grumbles, seeming over my nonsense. “You’re in denial, sweetheart.”
My pulse quickens. Oh, what that term of endearment does to me.
Setting the piece of metal down to dry, I lean back on my hands, allowing the silence between us to grow. The heat of the desert must be driving me mad if I’m at all considering feeding into Lowell’s teasing.
“That’ll need to dry for eight hours or so. We can work on attaching it back onto the cycle afterward,” Lowell says, his attention shifting to the sandcycle. “And if the engine fires up, we’re out of here.”
I analyze the small metal rod that stands in the way of our life and death, my hands still shaking from the nerves caused by unbridled desire.
How strange this whole situation has become.
“I think the sandstorm will stop in a few days,” I say, lifting a hand above the makeshift shelter. “The wind seems to have died down.”
“The desert has a way of deceiving travelers, so don’t get your hopes up,” Lowell says, scooting his body to one side of the tent while patting the spot next to him. “All we can do is wait, so get over here and relax for once.”
My heart skips a beat. The thought of being so close to Lowell after spilling our entire life stories to one another appears much more intimate than before.
Nevertheless, I drop the wrench and crawl to where he lies.
I’m careful not to peek my head out over the shelter, the sandstorm still raging at a dangerous level.
I slide next to Lowell, cautious not to touch him. He’s not the only one whose feelings are a complete mess, so I don’t need to add any more fuel to my confusion.
“What happens when we get back?” I ask, resting my head on my bicep.
Lowell stares at the tent’s door, composed. “We proceed with the plan as normal: You go back to Nilsan and report your findings. Do whatever you need to do to ensure that the Sandpit Desert is off-limits for construction.” He turns toward me, his eyes alight. “Unless you have other plans?”
To stay?
I see the question floating in his words, full of wild and wishful thinking. But I know my path, and have for a while. Lowell sees a desire for rebellion in me that I do not share, the instant gratification destined to wear off like all other impulsive emotions.
The rationalization doesn’t help the knot that forms when I know I need to reject him.
“I’ll go back to Nilsan, as planned,” I reply, a lump in my throat. The words feel like lies and I hate it.
The fire in his eyes flickers when he turns to face me, softening with an unfamiliar expression of hurt. “Understandable.”
Slowly, Lowell’s hand makes its way to my cheek, cupping it softly. He caresses my skin with the pad of his thumb, the hard edges of his face relaxing with each pass.
I don’t stop his touch, goosebumps breaking out over my flesh while a small shiver builds at the base of my spine.
“Can you indulge me?” he murmurs, dragging a claw over my lips.
I lay my hand over his, tracing down his arm to rest at his elbow. “Depends on what it is. I’m not going to eat you if you die, if that’s what this is about.”
Lowell’s gentle laugh sends sparks exploding in my chest. “No, but it is related to the uncertainty of my health and our survival.”
I lean deeper into his touch. “What do you mean?”
His seriousness concerns me. I don’t know if I can perform any major type of surgery with the small med kit we have, and even then, we are already low on supplies.
Feeling me tense, Lowell draws me in closer, his snout grazing my nose. I sense his racing heart beating through his palm against my cheek.
“Promise me you’ll think about it before saying no, okay?” he breathes, his gaze darkening.
I smile cautiously, a single brow raised. “You’re scaring me.”
Swallowing heavily, Lowell’s conviction sets his gaze on fire. Finally, he growls out his request, saliva pooling on his tongues:
“Have sex with me.”