Read Online Edward Unconditionally Common Powers 3 by Lynn Lorenz - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lynn Lorenz
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he didn't want to dissect his reasons, Jack let go.
“I trust you.” Jack shut his eyes.
Chapter Eight
“Breathe normally.” Jack let his breathing slow as he tried to relax.
Edward touched Jack's brow, ran his thumb over it, leaving a streak of warmth behind. Jack had to keep from shuddering. The touch repeated, and just that brief stroking eased Jack. The pad of Edward's thumb pressed under Jack's eyebrow, near the bridge of his nose, and as the pressure increased, the warmth became heat.
The throbbing lessened. As if it were being pulled out of him, the pain in his head condensed, grew smaller, more localized. It drained through the spot under his eye and into Edward's thumb. But that was nuts, right?
Jack's breathing eased as the pain faded.
Faded.
Gone.
Edward gasped. “Hell and... ”
Edward's thumb slipped away and scraped down Jack's cheek. Jack opened his eyes.
Body rigid, Edward's head was thrown back, his corded throat worked as if he couldn't get enough air, his features contorted as the seizure racked his body. With another horrible gurgle, he slumped to the side as his body did a slow-motion slide off the coffee table. Jack grabbed Edward's arm and the back of his neck, and eased him to the floor between the couch and the table.
Kneeling beside the unconscious man, Jack shoved the table out of the way.
“Edward.” Jack tapped him on the cheek. “Edward.”
No response. He lowered his face to Edward's. He wasn't breathing. Shit.
He felt for a pulse on Edward's neck. Nothing.
Desperate, he moved his fingers along the indentation in Edward's throat, searching for a pulse, any pulse. The touch was intimate yet clinical. He pressed harder.
“Come on, Edward. Stay with me, baby.” Jack's heart hammered so hard, he didn't know if he felt his own pulse or Edward's, but after what seemed like too damn long, a pulse thumped softly against his fingertips.
Jack's body shook with relief.
“Edward. Wake up.” Another light tap on Edward's contorted face.
Jack sat back, unsure what to do. He looked up at the phone on the kitchen wall. He should call an ambulance, but he couldn't bring himself to leave Edward's side. Glancing down at him, Jack watched the lines of pain smooth out, the creases in Edward's brow fade, and his body relax.
Edward's face transformed. Like a little brat who'd fallen asleep, all the mischievousness, all the impish delight, all the precociousness, transformed into an angelic facade.
He stared down at the young man, struck again by Edward's beauty. Not handsome or rugged, as a man should be. Edward had beauty and grace, like some creature of immense worth, delicate, vulnerable. His features were fine, his lashes too long for a man's, his lips full and plump.
Without thinking, Jack brushed his finger over Edward's lips. So soft. So smooth.
Edward's cheek showed just a hint of five o'clock shadow. Jack cupped Edward's face, the light stubble a soft roughness against his palm. Edward's hair, coal black, thick, tempted Jack.
Everything about this man tempted Jack.
Jack never gave into temptation. Never. That meant giving up control, and Jack needed control like he needed air.
What would Edward's hair feel like as it slipped between Jack's fingers?
Jack ran his hand through Edward's bangs, pushing them off his face. It was as if he'd run a silk scarf, fine and soft, through his fingers.
He let his hand fall away and rest on his thigh. Leaning over, he was unable to take his eyes off Edward's lips. They begged to be kissed.
Edward's eyes fluttered. “Jack?” he whispered as his eyes opened. He gazed up into Jack's face, bent over his.
“Shit, Edward. You scared me half to death.” Jack exhaled and sat back, putting distance between him and temptation.
“Sorry.” Edward sat up with a groan, rubbing his forehead. “It's not usually like that.”
“What the hell just happened?” Jack stared at Edward.
Edward raised his hand and touched Jack's cheek. His
“I trust you.” Jack shut his eyes.
Chapter Eight
“Breathe normally.” Jack let his breathing slow as he tried to relax.
Edward touched Jack's brow, ran his thumb over it, leaving a streak of warmth behind. Jack had to keep from shuddering. The touch repeated, and just that brief stroking eased Jack. The pad of Edward's thumb pressed under Jack's eyebrow, near the bridge of his nose, and as the pressure increased, the warmth became heat.
The throbbing lessened. As if it were being pulled out of him, the pain in his head condensed, grew smaller, more localized. It drained through the spot under his eye and into Edward's thumb. But that was nuts, right?
Jack's breathing eased as the pain faded.
Faded.
Gone.
Edward gasped. “Hell and... ”
Edward's thumb slipped away and scraped down Jack's cheek. Jack opened his eyes.
Body rigid, Edward's head was thrown back, his corded throat worked as if he couldn't get enough air, his features contorted as the seizure racked his body. With another horrible gurgle, he slumped to the side as his body did a slow-motion slide off the coffee table. Jack grabbed Edward's arm and the back of his neck, and eased him to the floor between the couch and the table.
Kneeling beside the unconscious man, Jack shoved the table out of the way.
“Edward.” Jack tapped him on the cheek. “Edward.”
No response. He lowered his face to Edward's. He wasn't breathing. Shit.
He felt for a pulse on Edward's neck. Nothing.
Desperate, he moved his fingers along the indentation in Edward's throat, searching for a pulse, any pulse. The touch was intimate yet clinical. He pressed harder.
“Come on, Edward. Stay with me, baby.” Jack's heart hammered so hard, he didn't know if he felt his own pulse or Edward's, but after what seemed like too damn long, a pulse thumped softly against his fingertips.
Jack's body shook with relief.
“Edward. Wake up.” Another light tap on Edward's contorted face.
Jack sat back, unsure what to do. He looked up at the phone on the kitchen wall. He should call an ambulance, but he couldn't bring himself to leave Edward's side. Glancing down at him, Jack watched the lines of pain smooth out, the creases in Edward's brow fade, and his body relax.
Edward's face transformed. Like a little brat who'd fallen asleep, all the mischievousness, all the impish delight, all the precociousness, transformed into an angelic facade.
He stared down at the young man, struck again by Edward's beauty. Not handsome or rugged, as a man should be. Edward had beauty and grace, like some creature of immense worth, delicate, vulnerable. His features were fine, his lashes too long for a man's, his lips full and plump.
Without thinking, Jack brushed his finger over Edward's lips. So soft. So smooth.
Edward's cheek showed just a hint of five o'clock shadow. Jack cupped Edward's face, the light stubble a soft roughness against his palm. Edward's hair, coal black, thick, tempted Jack.
Everything about this man tempted Jack.
Jack never gave into temptation. Never. That meant giving up control, and Jack needed control like he needed air.
What would Edward's hair feel like as it slipped between Jack's fingers?
Jack ran his hand through Edward's bangs, pushing them off his face. It was as if he'd run a silk scarf, fine and soft, through his fingers.
He let his hand fall away and rest on his thigh. Leaning over, he was unable to take his eyes off Edward's lips. They begged to be kissed.
Edward's eyes fluttered. “Jack?” he whispered as his eyes opened. He gazed up into Jack's face, bent over his.
“Shit, Edward. You scared me half to death.” Jack exhaled and sat back, putting distance between him and temptation.
“Sorry.” Edward sat up with a groan, rubbing his forehead. “It's not usually like that.”
“What the hell just happened?” Jack stared at Edward.
Edward raised his hand and touched Jack's cheek. His
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