Read Online The Sharpest Blade by Sandy Williams - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sandy Williams
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that I fell in love with.
It’s the deeper part of him I’m still in love with. I never doubted it these last three weeks, but the strength of that emotion makes me feel vulnerable. He could shatter my heart so easily.
The second of eye contact ends, and suddenly he’s closed the distance between us. I expect some sort of greeting, an embrace, a kiss, a simple hello, but he lifts up my shirt with such urgency I stagger back. I grip his shoulders for balance as he runs his hands over my ribs. His touch isn’t a caress.
“Aren,” I say because I see the fear in his eyes. His right hand moves to my back, up to my shoulders. “Aren, I’m not hurt.”
He’s not listening. He continues searching for an injury I don’t have.
I grab one of his hands. “I’m fine.”
A chaos luster leaps from his skin to mine. The heat of our contact finally shows in his eyes. He meets my gaze again, and his pinched brow wrinkles even more.
“You’re covered in blood,” he says. He reaches up and drags his thumb across my cheek. Whether he’s tracing the path of a chaos luster or touching a smear of dirt or blood, I don’t know. All I know is I’ve missed his touch.
His gaze drops to my lips. He’s breathing hard. I’m not breathing at all.
He swallows. “Taltrayn said you needed a healer.”
“Hmm?”
“He said . . .” He fades off, and something more potent than worry is in his eyes. He closes his mouth, then opens it again as if he’s determined to finish what he started to say, but no words come out.
His hand is still on my cheek. A flash of
edarratae
draws his gaze to it, then the lightning hits me, an erotic burst of pleasure that makes my entire body ache.
His muscles tense, and he’s standing in front of me as rigid as iron when all I want to do is melt into his arms.
“Aren,” I say, my voice uncharacteristically raspy.
“Sidhe,”
he curses. His stiffness disappears, and his mouth captures mine.
Instantly, I’m alight, burning from the inside out as if I’ve been scorched by lightning. The power, the need, the magical bite of his kiss seizes me. I dig my fingers into his shoulders, then slide one hand behind his neck pulling him closer, closer.
My lips part, inviting him to deepen the kiss. He does, and I moan, heat gathering under my skin. He tastes of the Realm, exotic and sweet and primal. I want more—the way his body shudders tells me he does, too—but he ends the kiss in a tender, exquisite pull that leaves my head spinning.
“Hi,” I whisper when I can breathe again.
He gives a slow, almost imperceptible shake of his head before he responds, just as softly, “Hi.”
We’re still touching, still close enough that all I’d have to do to reignite the kiss is to press forward a fraction of an inch, but between two rapid beats of my heart, someone else’s breaks.
I close my eyes, grimacing. There’s no way I can hide this . . . this
need
. Even a world away, Kyol can feel it, and the tight ache in his chest makes me feel like absolute shit.
Aren’s suddenly rigid again. He knows the reason why I grimaced, and in an instant, we’re half a room apart. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, an action that does nothing to quell my desire. I want my fingers there, wrapped in the sun-bleached strands.
“Why would Taltrayn tell me you need a healer?” he asks. His voice isn’t soft anymore. It’s hard and emotionless. Somehow, I’ve managed to hurt him as deeply as I’ve hurt Kyol.
Fantastic job, McKenzie.
“I don’t know,” I answer because I need to say something to fill the silence. Plus, that’s the truth. Kyol knew I wasn’t hurt, so why would he . . . Oh.
“Lee,” I say. Then, because I feel like I might explode if I don’t move, I walk to the other side of the couch.
“He’s the one who’s hurt.” I peer down at the passed-out human and concentrate on pulling air into my lungs one slow, steady breath at a time.
“Lee?” Aren walks to my
It’s the deeper part of him I’m still in love with. I never doubted it these last three weeks, but the strength of that emotion makes me feel vulnerable. He could shatter my heart so easily.
The second of eye contact ends, and suddenly he’s closed the distance between us. I expect some sort of greeting, an embrace, a kiss, a simple hello, but he lifts up my shirt with such urgency I stagger back. I grip his shoulders for balance as he runs his hands over my ribs. His touch isn’t a caress.
“Aren,” I say because I see the fear in his eyes. His right hand moves to my back, up to my shoulders. “Aren, I’m not hurt.”
He’s not listening. He continues searching for an injury I don’t have.
I grab one of his hands. “I’m fine.”
A chaos luster leaps from his skin to mine. The heat of our contact finally shows in his eyes. He meets my gaze again, and his pinched brow wrinkles even more.
“You’re covered in blood,” he says. He reaches up and drags his thumb across my cheek. Whether he’s tracing the path of a chaos luster or touching a smear of dirt or blood, I don’t know. All I know is I’ve missed his touch.
His gaze drops to my lips. He’s breathing hard. I’m not breathing at all.
He swallows. “Taltrayn said you needed a healer.”
“Hmm?”
“He said . . .” He fades off, and something more potent than worry is in his eyes. He closes his mouth, then opens it again as if he’s determined to finish what he started to say, but no words come out.
His hand is still on my cheek. A flash of
edarratae
draws his gaze to it, then the lightning hits me, an erotic burst of pleasure that makes my entire body ache.
His muscles tense, and he’s standing in front of me as rigid as iron when all I want to do is melt into his arms.
“Aren,” I say, my voice uncharacteristically raspy.
“Sidhe,”
he curses. His stiffness disappears, and his mouth captures mine.
Instantly, I’m alight, burning from the inside out as if I’ve been scorched by lightning. The power, the need, the magical bite of his kiss seizes me. I dig my fingers into his shoulders, then slide one hand behind his neck pulling him closer, closer.
My lips part, inviting him to deepen the kiss. He does, and I moan, heat gathering under my skin. He tastes of the Realm, exotic and sweet and primal. I want more—the way his body shudders tells me he does, too—but he ends the kiss in a tender, exquisite pull that leaves my head spinning.
“Hi,” I whisper when I can breathe again.
He gives a slow, almost imperceptible shake of his head before he responds, just as softly, “Hi.”
We’re still touching, still close enough that all I’d have to do to reignite the kiss is to press forward a fraction of an inch, but between two rapid beats of my heart, someone else’s breaks.
I close my eyes, grimacing. There’s no way I can hide this . . . this
need
. Even a world away, Kyol can feel it, and the tight ache in his chest makes me feel like absolute shit.
Aren’s suddenly rigid again. He knows the reason why I grimaced, and in an instant, we’re half a room apart. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, an action that does nothing to quell my desire. I want my fingers there, wrapped in the sun-bleached strands.
“Why would Taltrayn tell me you need a healer?” he asks. His voice isn’t soft anymore. It’s hard and emotionless. Somehow, I’ve managed to hurt him as deeply as I’ve hurt Kyol.
Fantastic job, McKenzie.
“I don’t know,” I answer because I need to say something to fill the silence. Plus, that’s the truth. Kyol knew I wasn’t hurt, so why would he . . . Oh.
“Lee,” I say. Then, because I feel like I might explode if I don’t move, I walk to the other side of the couch.
“He’s the one who’s hurt.” I peer down at the passed-out human and concentrate on pulling air into my lungs one slow, steady breath at a time.
“Lee?” Aren walks to my
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