Chapter 9
“You kissed me,” I say, stupidly.
He grins. “I did. Free will, remember?”
I just sit there, wide-eyed, while my brain does the whole computer-crash, spinning-rainbow-circle thing. I feel his saliva cooling on my mouth. I mean, I can still freaking taste him!
(Mint and… fennel?)
“Why would you do that?!”
His eyes gleam, boyishly devilish. “Because you are feckin’ adorable! Beautiful, actually. And since you decided to turn down Rafa, I figured I’d chance my arm.”
Literally, not a single word he just said makes any actual sense.
“Chance your what now? Beautiful? What are you talking about? You’re a spirit! And I might be a lot of things, but I’m not—”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Attractive? An absolute ride? Lovable?” He sharpens his gaze with a spark of anger while I stare back at him blankly. “That sounds to me like your mam talking.”
Uff.
Okay. There are probably a million reasons not to get involved with an all-seeing, God-tier spectral entity. But the fact that he’s fully aware of things I wouldn’t even tell my best friend (if I had one!), and can casually throw them in my face, has got to be one of them.
I glare at him, and he immediately raises up his palms in surrender. “I’m sorry, Alvin. It was rude of me to bring her up. But she’s said so many things to you that were flat-out wrong, and she’s been doing it since you were very young. It breaks my heart how it’s made you see yourself.”
I still have every reason to be seriously annoyed. But his expression is so caring, I find it hard to keep my grip on my anger. I continue to glare at him, though, because if I don’t keep my grip on something, I’m going to lose my mind.
“You act like you know me. Even when you first saw me back in the house. Why?”
Collin purses his lips slightly and frowns. “When the watch is being used, if I’m ignored for a little bit, I can… ask questions for myself.” He glances back up at me, vulnerable again. “You were the answer to one of my questions.”
His words hit me somehow. I’ve never been the answer to anyone’s question. And he just called me beautiful—something that’s also never happened before—and seemed to mean it. Despite my best intentions, I feel my guard dropping.
“Um, what was the question?” I ask, my stomach vibrating, heart beating a little harder.
He sighs and shakes his head, but doesn’t let go of my eyes.
“I don’t think I should tell you.” Catching my wary frown, he raises his hand.
“It’s nothing bad! I promise! It’s different meeting you in person, but I know enough to have a good idea how you’d react and I don’t want to influence you. I want you to be safe.”
My mind spins over that. What kind of question would put me in more danger just by knowing it was asked?
He squeezes my hands, and I’m immediately back with him.
His eyes search mine, his lips pressed into a melancholy line.
“Look. I get it. As far as you’re concerned, I’m a stranger.
Maybe I am pushing for too much, too soon.
Just because I want this, because I want you, doesn’t mean you’re going to feel the same way. ”
Because I want this. Because I want you. Even if I could never act on it, I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for someone to say something like that to me. Someone who wasn’t forced. Who meant it.
And as for my feelings... He doesn’t have Rafa’s big muscles or chiseled cheekbones.
His face is soft, kinda like mine, and framed with gentle blond curls, which is nothing like me.
There’s a sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of his nose.
The blue in his eyes captures light like a jewel.
And his grip is warm and strong. I know he’s a spirit—or something like that, anyway—but he feels real.
Like a real boy holding my hands for the first time.
The kind of boy I always crushed on in junior college and never got to have.
I’m in trouble.
I lean back, trying to create at least a little more distance on this cramped love seat. But I don’t let go of those hands. And I give him the most honest response I can.
“I don’t know what’s going on here.” My voice sounds strangely low, husky.
“Do you want to kiss me, Alvin?” He looks up through his eyelashes, shy, but underneath it, I can see his desire.
A desire for me. But if he does for some weird reason have actual physical needs, he should be getting as far away as possible!
Incubi who don’t know what they’re doing can kill people.
Sometimes they even do it on purpose, because it’s more fun.
I have the power to make others want me, even if they think I’m disgusting.
Even if they know what I can do. It’s wrong.
It’s awful. It’s rape. Even if I’ve never used that power, it’s what makes me a monster.
I’ve fought this part of myself for years, but I’m not made of stone. My control is slipping, the monster inside me straining against the bars of its cage.
I swallow thickly. “It doesn’t matter what I want. I can’t kiss you! If you really know about me, what I am, then you know it’s too dangerous. I could really hurt you!”
He snorts, amused. “Alvin, of course I know what you are. But I’m not flesh and blood. You can’t hurt me any more than you could hurt an idea or a dream. We can do anything you want, and I’ll be fine. I promise.”
Anything I want. Boy, does my mind want to spin after that statement! I’ve wanted to do a lot of things.
But I don’t dare let the monster out!
“I don’t know if I’ll be fine!” My heart is racing. But I can’t tell if it’s the thought of waking up my incubus hunger and not being able to quiet it again, or if it’s just being so close to someone who actually wants to do stuff with me. Someone so incredibly cute who wants to do stuff with me.
Collin leans in, and when I try to retreat, crumpling, my mid-back hits the thick powder-blue arm of the love seat. I can’t go any farther.
His expression sharpens, becomes eager, determined. He can tell my resolve is slipping away. “I promise, I would never do anything to hurt you. But I want this so much. And I want it with you.”
God, it’s so freaking tempting. But I know I don’t get to have this. It has to be a trick. A trap. I have to use my brain here!
“Why would a dream want me?” My voice comes out a whisper. My stomach twitches with quick, shallow puffs.
His face is now super close. I can feel his hot, sweet breath on my lips.
“Because I’m not just a dream. Because, like you, there are a lot of things I haven’t been able to have. And because, whether you believe it or not, I really like what I see.”
His lips crash onto mine, hungrier than before.
There’s not much room on this love seat, but he slides himself on top of me, wrapping his arms around my back, pressing his body against mine, and oh my God, it feels really good.
It’s like being totally parched, and then finally getting a tall glass of cold, sweet water.
You just want to keep drinking and drinking forever.
Never in my life did I ever think I’d get to have this. Before I know it, I’m kissing back.
His lips move up to my ear, nibbling the lobe, which causes a hot, wet streak of pleasure to shoot straight down my neck and into my chest. It’s just my freaking ear, but it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever felt. I swear I straight-up whimper.
“Tell me you want this, too, Alvin,” he whispers, his breath tickling. “Please. Tell me yes.”
I know this is flat-out crazy. He’s not giving me any chance to think.
He’s not a cute boy, he’s something else, and saying yes to a supernatural being has consequences.
Just look at what happened with me and the elf!
There’s no way to know if “Collin” is his true form.
This Avatar could be anything! A Lovecraftian horror.
A vengeful Titan. An archdemon that someone trapped in a magical artifact for everyone’s safety.
Incubi and vampires aren’t the only things that can consume you!
And maybe there was a moment I could have stopped this earlier.
But now it’s too late, because feeling him on top of me, kissing me, wanting me, feels too good, and this might be the only time in my entire life I get to have something like this.
Because being deliberately seduced by a cute guy is literally every fantasy I’ve ever had since I was fourteen, but this is better, because it’s actually happening.
Because I’m so freaking turned on, I’ve lost all reason.
Whatever I’m caught up in right now, I’m not getting out of.
Because I don’t want out.
“Okay,” I whisper, high-pitched and hoarse, and feeling like I’m falling. “Yes.”