Read Online Shadow WIngs (Skeleton Key) by Skeleton Key, JC Andrijeski - Free Book Online
Authors: Skeleton Key, JC Andrijeski
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casual, off-work clothes.
When he’d finished picking out articles, she brought him to her bathroom and showed him how to work the hot water and the shower. He acted as though he’d never used one of those before either, but he seemed to get the hang of the thing quickly. Once she got the water hot out of the rattling heater, she saw understanding hit him for real.
Relief once more flooded his expression.
He threw off the blanket that smelled faintly of cat-piss and bad wine and began taking off the dirty jeans right in front of her.
Her cheeks flushing hot, Ilana looked away, but waited by the doorway so he could hand her the filthy blanket and jeans. She fully intended to throw them out while he bathed. She would have burned them if she could, but the garbage chute would have to do.
She couldn’t help sneaking a peek at him when he handed over the clothes.
He was that same pearl-white all over, she noticed.
His skin appeared strangely new-looking and unmarked, as if he had been sculpted from that flawless slab of marble recently. She had an urge to lay a hand on that perfect skin, to see if it was warm or cold and as smooth as it looked. Some part of her wanted to be convinced that he was flesh and blood, not from some other world like he’d more or less claimed.
There really was something so strange and beautiful about him. The strangeness struck her now even more than his beauty.
She wished she understood what that something was, and why he was having this effect on her. She knew it wasn’t his looks alone. After all, Uri had been a beautiful man. Uri still was beautiful, objectively-speaking, and still young, being in his early thirties and only a few years older than her. Ilana had gone down the path of beautiful men. She had married one.
So what was it about this man that so fascinated her?
He looked lost––heartbreakingly so at times.
Perhaps it was empathy that moved her. He knew about Golunsky. More to the point, he knew things about Ilana herself, things he shouldn’t know. The fact that he knew them anyway and shared personal details about her with that ment back at the station should have disturbed her, angered her even, but somehow did neither.
Rather, she found herself thinking he’d done it purely out of expediency, like he’d told her. He’d told the officer those things about her the same way he’d told her his real name rather than simply inventing one she would believe.
Both things served a purpose.
She was sure he hadn’t done it to harm her, emotionally or otherwise. She had no reason to think that, yet she did. That sureness struck her as strange too.
Normally, she was a pretty suspicious person. She had to be, given what she was.
She didn’t realize she’d gone from glancing to staring until the man touched her arm.
He stroked it when she didn’t pull away.
In the other room, she’d taken off her suit jacket in addition to her coat, not long after they came inside her apartment. Now she wore only a short-sleeved dark blue blouse over dark pants. When he continued to trace his fingers down her forearm, it was skin to skin, causing a kind of electric shock to run up her arm.
Jerking her eyes up and off where she’d been staring down at his body, including below the waist, she felt her face flush with a lot more heat, even as she met his gaze.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
But he didn’t seem bothered by her stare.
Rather, his expression looked relieved again.
She strongly got the impression it was at least partly from him touching her. Even as she thought it, he began stroking her fingers attached to the arm he wasn’t already touching. He let his hand run up that arm too, squeezing here and there, but not pulling her closer or attempting to touch her anywhere else. It struck her that the contact reassured him in some way.
It didn’t feel particularly sexual, but she felt a tugging need behind it regardless.
Still, some part of him responded to either her
When he’d finished picking out articles, she brought him to her bathroom and showed him how to work the hot water and the shower. He acted as though he’d never used one of those before either, but he seemed to get the hang of the thing quickly. Once she got the water hot out of the rattling heater, she saw understanding hit him for real.
Relief once more flooded his expression.
He threw off the blanket that smelled faintly of cat-piss and bad wine and began taking off the dirty jeans right in front of her.
Her cheeks flushing hot, Ilana looked away, but waited by the doorway so he could hand her the filthy blanket and jeans. She fully intended to throw them out while he bathed. She would have burned them if she could, but the garbage chute would have to do.
She couldn’t help sneaking a peek at him when he handed over the clothes.
He was that same pearl-white all over, she noticed.
His skin appeared strangely new-looking and unmarked, as if he had been sculpted from that flawless slab of marble recently. She had an urge to lay a hand on that perfect skin, to see if it was warm or cold and as smooth as it looked. Some part of her wanted to be convinced that he was flesh and blood, not from some other world like he’d more or less claimed.
There really was something so strange and beautiful about him. The strangeness struck her now even more than his beauty.
She wished she understood what that something was, and why he was having this effect on her. She knew it wasn’t his looks alone. After all, Uri had been a beautiful man. Uri still was beautiful, objectively-speaking, and still young, being in his early thirties and only a few years older than her. Ilana had gone down the path of beautiful men. She had married one.
So what was it about this man that so fascinated her?
He looked lost––heartbreakingly so at times.
Perhaps it was empathy that moved her. He knew about Golunsky. More to the point, he knew things about Ilana herself, things he shouldn’t know. The fact that he knew them anyway and shared personal details about her with that ment back at the station should have disturbed her, angered her even, but somehow did neither.
Rather, she found herself thinking he’d done it purely out of expediency, like he’d told her. He’d told the officer those things about her the same way he’d told her his real name rather than simply inventing one she would believe.
Both things served a purpose.
She was sure he hadn’t done it to harm her, emotionally or otherwise. She had no reason to think that, yet she did. That sureness struck her as strange too.
Normally, she was a pretty suspicious person. She had to be, given what she was.
She didn’t realize she’d gone from glancing to staring until the man touched her arm.
He stroked it when she didn’t pull away.
In the other room, she’d taken off her suit jacket in addition to her coat, not long after they came inside her apartment. Now she wore only a short-sleeved dark blue blouse over dark pants. When he continued to trace his fingers down her forearm, it was skin to skin, causing a kind of electric shock to run up her arm.
Jerking her eyes up and off where she’d been staring down at his body, including below the waist, she felt her face flush with a lot more heat, even as she met his gaze.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
But he didn’t seem bothered by her stare.
Rather, his expression looked relieved again.
She strongly got the impression it was at least partly from him touching her. Even as she thought it, he began stroking her fingers attached to the arm he wasn’t already touching. He let his hand run up that arm too, squeezing here and there, but not pulling her closer or attempting to touch her anywhere else. It struck her that the contact reassured him in some way.
It didn’t feel particularly sexual, but she felt a tugging need behind it regardless.
Still, some part of him responded to either her
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