Read Online Forsaken: The World of Nightwalkers by Jacquelyn Frank - Free Book Online
Authors: Jacquelyn Frank
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touched him intimately. Although it was many years ago, he could never forget the eagerness of wanting it, the overwhelming excitement of it, and the needful readiness of his erection. There was no denying it was exactly the same overwhelming desire pulsing through him now, as well as the same glory of that first touch, thinking it would bring a measure of relief only to find out it just made things hotter, made things harder.
As he stood there he felt himself react to the memory invoked by the sensation, his body growing hard in response to it and the sensations he was awash in. He wanted to jerk away, to force himself to feel it for the violation it should be, but he couldn’t bring himself to sully it. And when he saw her turn toward him with a startled, soundless gasp, he realized she was not intentionally trying to pull these things out of him. It had been happenstance. But he also knew by the look in her yellow-green eyes that she was one hundred percent cognizant to what he was thinking…what he was feeling. He wanted it to be a private feeling, he wanted to huddle it close in the confines of his mind and soul, not share it with someone he didn’t know the first thing about. But he simply couldn’t make himself hate anything about what he was feeling or her part in having brought it about.
She withdrew her wing and all its energy from him, the jerking movement almost like the too quick removal of a Band-Aid from a healing wound. But like that pain, it flew away in the next instant, and he was left simply stunned, still feeling everything he was feeling, and more than a little overwhelmed.
Seeing how uncomfortable she was, how awkward it was for her to hold that wing away from him, he stepped back at last, the movement alone reminding him he had a hell of an erection. She looked at him, her eyes partly accusing and partly…well, without really knowing her he could only make a guess, but it seemed like she was almost…curious.
But the impression only lasted a moment because she was turning away from him and looking back down at Jackson. Her left wing trembled a little, as if it were tautly ready to draw away again if he came too close. He took another step back, the shift of her eyes telling him she saw the movement. The wing slowly relaxed and he understood that she was trusting him not to come in contact with her again.
She needn’t worry. He’d be damned if he was going to let it happen again.
Leo sighed, knowing instantly that the attempt to brush up his indignation was false and therefore it fell flat. The truth was that he wanted to step forward again, to feel the touch of that energy, craving the feelings the act had evoked so unexpectedly. Not the arousal, though that was a part of it, he admitted to himself, but the fresh, innocent feeling of it. The feeling so pure and untouched by the difficulties and tragedies of adult life.
Not that his youth had been a blaze of contented ignorance. There was very little opportunity for innocence in a boy from the barrio, the son of a single mother trying to do the best she could to keep her children happy and healthy, while the world thwarted her at every turn.
Bringing his attention back to the room around him and the concerns of the present day, he watched as the angel’s wings curled forward past her shoulders, the left one passing briefly through Marissa before wrapping around Jackson. Leo heard Marissa draw in a stuttering breath, a sudden storm of emotions scouring across her features, one after another appearing for a brief flash of time. Bewilderment. Anxiety. Grief. Then quietness, reverence, and wonder as she found comfort in the next sensations marching through her.
And hope. The last was a welling expression of hope that made her sit back on her heels, the hands she had so tightly wrapped around Jackson’s pulling in slowly until she was pressing the jumble of fingers into her stomach, just below the solar plexus, cradling his hand against her
As he stood there he felt himself react to the memory invoked by the sensation, his body growing hard in response to it and the sensations he was awash in. He wanted to jerk away, to force himself to feel it for the violation it should be, but he couldn’t bring himself to sully it. And when he saw her turn toward him with a startled, soundless gasp, he realized she was not intentionally trying to pull these things out of him. It had been happenstance. But he also knew by the look in her yellow-green eyes that she was one hundred percent cognizant to what he was thinking…what he was feeling. He wanted it to be a private feeling, he wanted to huddle it close in the confines of his mind and soul, not share it with someone he didn’t know the first thing about. But he simply couldn’t make himself hate anything about what he was feeling or her part in having brought it about.
She withdrew her wing and all its energy from him, the jerking movement almost like the too quick removal of a Band-Aid from a healing wound. But like that pain, it flew away in the next instant, and he was left simply stunned, still feeling everything he was feeling, and more than a little overwhelmed.
Seeing how uncomfortable she was, how awkward it was for her to hold that wing away from him, he stepped back at last, the movement alone reminding him he had a hell of an erection. She looked at him, her eyes partly accusing and partly…well, without really knowing her he could only make a guess, but it seemed like she was almost…curious.
But the impression only lasted a moment because she was turning away from him and looking back down at Jackson. Her left wing trembled a little, as if it were tautly ready to draw away again if he came too close. He took another step back, the shift of her eyes telling him she saw the movement. The wing slowly relaxed and he understood that she was trusting him not to come in contact with her again.
She needn’t worry. He’d be damned if he was going to let it happen again.
Leo sighed, knowing instantly that the attempt to brush up his indignation was false and therefore it fell flat. The truth was that he wanted to step forward again, to feel the touch of that energy, craving the feelings the act had evoked so unexpectedly. Not the arousal, though that was a part of it, he admitted to himself, but the fresh, innocent feeling of it. The feeling so pure and untouched by the difficulties and tragedies of adult life.
Not that his youth had been a blaze of contented ignorance. There was very little opportunity for innocence in a boy from the barrio, the son of a single mother trying to do the best she could to keep her children happy and healthy, while the world thwarted her at every turn.
Bringing his attention back to the room around him and the concerns of the present day, he watched as the angel’s wings curled forward past her shoulders, the left one passing briefly through Marissa before wrapping around Jackson. Leo heard Marissa draw in a stuttering breath, a sudden storm of emotions scouring across her features, one after another appearing for a brief flash of time. Bewilderment. Anxiety. Grief. Then quietness, reverence, and wonder as she found comfort in the next sensations marching through her.
And hope. The last was a welling expression of hope that made her sit back on her heels, the hands she had so tightly wrapped around Jackson’s pulling in slowly until she was pressing the jumble of fingers into her stomach, just below the solar plexus, cradling his hand against her
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