Nathaniel #3
“Yeah, I figured. Can’t get it up twice in one night anymore, can you, Nate?” Landon is grinning now, and each step he takes toward me only fuels the desire and anger lingering inside of me.
“Not for you, no,” I reply coolly.
Landon’s grin fades into a piercing glare, his muscles tensing as he stands on nearly full display.
“You’re such a fucking ass,” he grumbles.
I have to keep what we’re doing a secret, and I have to keep him away from the council. It’s the only way.
Taking a deep breath, I stand and approach him. His vibrant eyes track my every movement, hands fiddling with my towel as his head tilts back slightly to stare at me where I hover in front of him.
“You have to go,” I say quietly, trying my best to show my sincerity with my eyes. “You have to lie low for a while. No using your coercion.”
“Why not?” Landon asks, his brow quirking as he cocks his hip. “Scared I’ll lure some innocent man into bed? Do you think I’m going to rob a bank or burn down an orphanage—w-what?”
My hands cradle his cheeks, feeling the slight stubble covering his skin as he takes in an unsteady breath. Landon’s eyes are blown wide, as if he can’t believe I’d touch him in such a soft way.
I understand his surprise. I feel the exact same way.
“I’m serious,” I murmur, my eyes searching his.
“Why should I listen to you? You hate me.”
I’m not… I’m not really sure why this is such a big deal to me. Other than the fact that some angry, vengeful part of me demands that I am to be the one to break him, I don’t really understand why I’m feeling so… protective.
“Yes,” I agree, brushing my fingertips over his soft hair. “But as an unrelated request, I’m asking you to listen. Just this once. Can you do that, little Lanny? Can you listen?”
Something is raging in those green eyes of his; a war between his need to rebel against me and his curiosity as I demand this from him.
And below both—the desire to be good. For me.
“Alright,” he says quietly, his eyes searching mine just as desperately as I was searching his. “Just this once.”
A relieved sigh leaves me, and I drop my hands from his face as I take a step back. “Good. Now leave.”
“B-but my plane doesn’t take off until the morning.” Landon sounds a bit panicky, as if he’s absolutely certain I’ll be kicking him out now either way.
I guess it wouldn’t… I guess it’s not the end of the world if I let him stay. Just for tonight.
“In the morning then,” I concede, my expression completely neutral as I imagine lying in bed with him for hours.
Touching… curled up together.
Half of me is repulsed by the idea, the intimacy of it. The other half? No comment.
“I only like to sleep by the wall,” Landon warns, his eyes watching me wearily as I change the comforter and then slip into a pair of pajama pants.
“Whatever you say, diva.”
Landon climbs into my bed, pulling the clean blanket over his shoulders as he stares at the ceiling. He’s undoubtedly wondering how the fuck we ended up here when we were at each other’s throats not too long ago.
I debate sleeping on the couch, giving the two of us some much-needed space. But then I’m remembering the warmth of his skin and how sweet he tasted, and I’m crawling in after him.
We lie on our backs, avoiding each other while our arms press firmly together.
Then Landon makes a sleepy sound, something that is a cross between a sigh and a huff of annoyance that goes straight to my drained balls. He rolls onto his side, facing the wall.
I shift my head, finally allowing myself to stare at him. At his brown hair all ruffled and damp and his tanned back rising and falling as the blanket falls to his waist.
I’m not using my brain much today. Between letting my power slip out, letting him stay the night, and now—as I wrap an arm around his waist and drag him back into my chest—I’m really losing all respect for myself.
I’m weak.
But Landon gives me a pleased hum, as if this is what he was waiting for all along.
Silence surrounds us as I feel the beat of his heart through the palm resting against his chest.
I’m close to drifting off when Landon speaks again, his voice rumbling through him and into me.
“Will you do it again? Can I see the lights?” he asks, his voice a sleepy murmur.
Something tightens inside me. I should say no—I’m not meant to use my power so freely. That’s what gets you in trouble with the organization. But no one is here to see it, and I’m not hurting anyone, right?
Little yellow orbs fill the air, fog curling over the carpet—the tell-tale sign of using my gift. It illuminates the otherwise dark room, blocking out our view of the rain.
Landon inhales sharply, his body shuddering just slightly in my grasp. Then, he mutters, “You still hate me, right?”
One of the little balls of light grazes his shoulder.
“Absolutely,” I confirm. And I do—I can feel it deep within myself. It’s nestled alongside the other thing I’m feeling; the one I can’t quite describe.
“Good,” he huffs, tucking the back of his head under my chin as his fingers wrap around my wrist. “Good night, Nate.”
Soon. I will force the B109 down his tight throat and inject him with the repression chip soon.
But for now…
“Good night, little Lanny.”