Chapter 25 Toran
Toran
Toran woke feeling groggy.
His head was clear, but his limbs felt like jelly. He hadn’t woken this way since he’d stopped drinking.
Hot air tickled budding scruff on his chin. At least he was warm. So warm, the most glorious feeling. He never wanted to move.
The memory of the ice-cold well surged back to him, strong and bitter. He remembered Nes and someone else pulling him out. And Genna. He’d gotten her out—of that much he was certain—but he wasn’t sure if it had been in time.
He shivered. Something warm pressed against his side. He leaned into the heat.
The heat leaned back.
His eyes flew open. Smooth skin, spotted with hundreds of freckles and messy with strands of ever-changing hair, flooded his vision.
He took a deep breath in, and their combined air filled him, smelling of forest moss and maple syrup and something entirely wild. Eyelashes gave way to hazy blue eyes.
Nes’s eyes fell shut as she snuggled into him, her nose tickling the hairs under his chin.
This was a dream. He must still be asleep. This version of Nes, the one huddled close, was too gentle, too soft, to be real.
Even if she wasn’t real, she was warm. And he’d be a fool if he didn’t soak in this dream until he turned wrinkly.
He extended his neck, lifting his chin to her forehead. Resting there, he let his nose dig in past her hairline so his every breath held layers of her. He didn’t know how long they lay like that. He might have fallen back asleep. If he’d ever been awake at all.
He was so comfortable here, with her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so soundly.
Nes shifted, and he opened his eyes again. This time, the morning light through the window was strong, day marking its presence with a vengeance.
He watched as she slid back on the lone pillow.
Her exhales became his inhales, the air between them filled only with their sleepy breath.
Her hair was a disaster, and her breath left something to be desired—his was likely worse—but he still found the word beautiful floating at the front of his mind as he stared.
She mumbled something into the pillow.
“What?” His voice felt raw after last night, like he was coaxing out words over a hill of splinters.
She turned her head so one eye glared out at him from the fluff of the pillow. “I said, stop smiling.”
“I’m not smiling.”
Her finger poked out from the blankets. She tapped each corner of his lips. “This”—tap—“is”—tap—“a smile”—tap tap.
He felt the beat of her last two taps all the way down his spine. She met his gaze, and her finger lingered on the center of his lips. He leaned into the touch. Her hand fell away.
He pressed his nose to her forehead again and breathed deep. “You smell of the forest on a dewy morning,” he said. “It’s breathtaking.”
She smiled as she reached for him, and he leaned closer, his hands reaching back for her. Her hands traipsed across his shoulders and chest, smooth swirls that made his skin tingle.
His hands found her body under the blankets, palms hot as they wound their way over her hips and sides. His fingers caressed her skin, hands gliding over long curves and dipping valleys.
His heart thundered, and he listened to its rhythm as he edged closer to the center of the bed. Listened to the way it told him to keep going, that this was good. Better than good. It was what he needed.
Nes was the only person he needed.
He opened his eyes to find a pair of dark brown eyes staring at him from over Nes’s shoulder.
Loriana.
He flew back, rolling to the opposite side of the bed in an instant. His shoulder hit the wall with a slam, but he barely felt the impact. Eyes squeezed shut, he tried to calm himself. His breath came in rasps, a combination of nerves and the heat pumping through him. He—that— She…
“Toran?” Nes’s voice sounded as ragged as he felt. “Are you okay?”
He felt her shift on the mattress, but he didn’t open his eyes.
He managed a slight nod. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he slid open one eyelid.
The room was empty save for himself and Nes.
He closed his eyes again and lay back against the wall, as far from Nes as he could get in this small bed. Still, he couldn’t escape her warmth.
“Something wrong?”
Guilt poured through him. Guilt over how he’d woken up for the first time in months and not thought about his dead fiancée.
Guilt over how, for a few glorious moments, he’d actually been happy here in bed with Nes.
And, of course, the guilt over how he was treating Nes. It wasn’t her fault he was damaged.
She reached for him, her hands on his chest again, and with his back against the wall, there was nowhere for him to go.
Think of something else. Anything else.
No matter how hard he tried to bring forth the icy memories of the well, his mind wouldn’t stop replaying the feel of her skin under his hands and envisioning his lips on hers.
He was acutely aware of his own body now. Of the way the blanket tickled the barest of skin in the most intimate places. Of the way his body was still responding to her touch, couldn’t forget the proximity of her body. Her very naked body.
“Nes?” Shame coated him when his voice came out a squeak.
“Yeah?”
“Why…” He took a deep breath in. “Why aren’t you wearing anything?”
His lips refused to form the word. Naked.
“I’m wearing something,” she said with a bit of her usual confidence.
He forced himself to open his eyes, to turn and look at her. “You’re not. I felt…” He closed his eyes against the flood of embarrassment. Hell, he couldn’t do this.
“I felt it, too,” she said. “But to answer your question, we’re both wearing blankets.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
She let out a long sigh, and the image of her bare chest rising and falling flitted in his mind’s eye. He bit his lip. He needed to get out of this bed. But if he did, she’d see him. See exactly how she affected him.
When she spoke again, he listened. Her voice was small, and he marveled at the vulnerability in every word. It made him want to fold her in his arms, hold her close, feel her heart calm under the weight of his touch as it had the day they met.
“You passed out,” she whispered, “while trying to change. Suri and I managed to move you, but even with the blankets, you wouldn’t stop shaking. You wouldn’t warm. I was afraid if I didn’t get you warm again you might not…I was afraid you’d never wake up.”
He met her gaze, his heart suddenly still. Something passed between them. Something he latched on to. Something he’d tried for so long not to feel.
She cared about him. And he cared for her, too. Cared and maybe…maybe more.
Her eyes were clear in the morning light, the meaning of her words striking in the blue around her large pupils. “So Suri and I did the only thing I could think of. We undressed, and she got in bed with Genna while I climbed in with you.”
He glanced over to the unmade bed on the other side of the room—it was empty—then back to Nes. Worry creased her brow, hiding some freckles and accentuating others.
“Nothing happened,” she said quickly. “You needed body heat. And it was the only way I knew how to give it.”
He pulled a hand out from under the blankets and reached over to her, brushing stray strands of hair from her face.
He hadn’t thought he could want after Loriana.
He’d been so broken. So lost, and he hadn’t wanted to find his way back.
Now he was glad he had. He never could have imagined a girl like Nes.
He wanted her. But she deserved more than this. More than him.
“What’s wrong?”
He smiled softly. “Nothing.”
She shoved his shoulder, and he laughed, pushing up onto his elbows. They’d have to get out of bed eventually, but until then, he was content to just lie beside her.
“Liar,” she said and threw the blankets in his face.
He shook them off and turned to look at her, only to find her out of bed. All of their blankets still wrapped around him. She had skin for days.
“Nes!”
She whirled, and he slammed his eyes shut.
“What?”
Goddess, maybe there was something wrong with him. She clearly had no problem parading around naked in front of him, so he shouldn’t feel the need to respect her privacy. Still, he kept his eyes closed. In his head, he heard Kohen’s voice. Prude.
“Please,” he croaked, “put some clothes on.”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“Torturing me.”
He could hear her smirk. “Only a little.”
“This is a little?”
“Oh, Captain,” she whispered, her voice matching the heat flooding down his body. Eyes still closed, he reached to stack more blankets over his hips. “You have no idea what I can do.”
He couldn’t help it, he shivered. And nearly choked on air when he felt something warm and round graze his cheek. He jerked back.
Her laugh was hard, and it echoed in his chest. And then her fingers were rough on his chin, gripping him tight.
“Nes?” He kept his eyes shut.
“Shh,” she hissed.
Then he did look. He opened his eyes to happiness like he’d never before seen on her face. Pure joy, and it only made him want to smile back at her, to do whatever he could to keep such elation from abandoning her.
Nes was so close, the air of her exhale circled his ear.
Her fingers, now light and delicate, slid up his jaw to the skin below his ear then down along the back side of his hairline, caressing him.
Goose bumps rose at the back of his neck.
Her touch both calmed his heart and excited other parts of him.
She closed her eyes, and he followed her. It wouldn’t hurt to give in just a bit.
“Are you two finished yet?”
From downstairs, a new voice snapped into the room, and he jumped. Nes leaned away. It took conscious effort on his part not to groan. The bed did it for him as Nes shifted and stood.
She snorted. “There’s nothing to finish, Suri!”
He couldn’t see Suri, or anyone for that matter, like this. For one, he wanted to be clothed and much more relaxed in certain areas. He clutched the blankets harder. He needed Nes to leave.
“Like I believe that!” Suri called back.
He couldn’t stop his groan this time.
“How you doing over there?” Nes asked him.
“Wonderful.”
“I’m sure you are.” There was a rustle, then her voice came again. “I’ll give you a minute alone.”
“Or two,” he rasped. He risked opening his eyes.
Nes stood in the doorway fully clothed, her smile knowing. “Join us when you’re…at ease again.” She winked. Then she was gone, the bedroom door shutting behind her.
He collapsed on the bed. He ran his hands over his face, dragging his nails over his eyes. The image of Nes’s bare body was seared to the dark side of his eyelids.
She was, if nothing else, impossible to forget.