Page 52 of Clouded by Envy

Grabbing Rana a Sprite, Brenik plopped down beside her on the couch. “Do you still talk to your parents? You told me when we first met that you didn’t get along because of how strict they were.” He wanted to know everything about this woman.

Her expression faltered, and Brenik felt terrible for bringing it up. “Not at the moment. Their beliefs are so strong—which is great for them—but I’m still trying to find myself and what to believe in.” She paused. “My parents and I even had an argument over Mexican food because they wanted chicken curry.”

Disgust crossed Brenik’s face as if he smelled something bad. “If it was Maria’s, I understand the argument.”

She swatted his arm but didn’t appear upset any longer. “Just because you had one bad experience at Maria’s doesn’t mean it’s bad. I didn’t get sick from the meal.”

It wasn’t Maria’s fault for him getting sick—it was the curse that was a prayer answered and a demon burning him alive. Light and dark would continue to battle inside of him for as long as he chose.

“Do you want to show me the rest of your place?” She craned her neck, happy to explore.

He led her to his room and pointed at the bed against one wall, and the wooden dresser on the opposite side. “This is it.”

“Let me know if you need help dressing up the place, but I like it,” Rana said as she walked over to the dresser. “Is this one of your paintings?” She reached for the portrait, and Brenik ran to her, tearing her hand away from it.

She frowned down at his hand. Brenik realized he was gripping her wrist a little too tightly, and he dropped it like it had electrocuted him. “Sorry, it’s just that one is important to me. My grandmother painted it last year before she died,” he lied, but not faking the distressed lines on his face.

“Oh, she was an artist, too?” Rana’s lips parted in interest.

“Yeah, she would work on her art almost every day,” he answered. Not really a lie since Ruth did sew all the time, and sewing could be considered an art form.

“Show me something of yours.” At that moment, Brenik knew he should not have told her he was trying to be an artist.

“Everything is still at my sister’s place since she has extra room.” Rana wasn’t dumb, so he hurried on. “But I can bring some here next time you come over.” He didn’t think it would be too hard to get some paint, throw it around on some canvases and call it “abstract” art.

Needing to find a distraction before she started asking more questions about his life, Brenik took a step closer to her. “You smell good.” The scent was fresh, like spearmint.

Rana rolled her eyes. “Is that supposed to be a pickup line?”

He stepped even closer. “Possibly?” She didn’t roll her eyes at him that time.

Moving a lock of hair behind her ear, Brenik leaned forward to smell her neck. The minty aroma became infectious, and he swiped the tip of his tongue right below her ear.

Slowly, Brenik licked his way across and up under her jaw until he was at her lips. Then he pulled her hips against his.

“With anyone else, I would find this incredibly strange, but I’m finding this rather intoxicating,” Rana murmured.

He responded by pressing his lips delicately against hers, then he echoed the gesture to both her eyes and the center of her forehead.

Rana kept her eyes shut as Brenik kissed his way from her forehead, down her nose, and right to her red lipstick-stained lips.

The heart inside his chest was unwinding like a miniature yo-yo, achingly similar to the one he once had back at Ruth’s. It bounced up and down inside his chest, knocking every other organ out of the way to stay front and center as it reached toward the other heart buried beneath Rana’s ribcage.

Brenik kissed her slowly, dragging his hand up to Rana’s chest to feel her heartbeat, but clothes were in the way. He reached down to grab the edge of her shirt and hauled it up and over her head.

Taking a step near the bed with his arms around Rana, Brenik gently unclasped her bra. He kissed his way down one shoulder as he lowered the strap, and then repeated his movements on the other side, until he discarded the bra on the floor.

Delicately, Brenik slid his hand from her stomach to the valley in between her breasts. There, he sensed the thump of her heart—felt it, heard it, saw it, adored it. He ignored all the viciousness inside himself and moved his hand to her breast, squeezing it with the right amount of pressure that had her moaning.

The rest of their clothing came off, and then Rana pressed him down on the bed. He rolled them to her back, kissing his way down Rana’s body and then back up to her mouth where her lipstick was now smeared between him and her.

Even though he hadn’t done this before, his mating instinct took over. He may have appeared human, but he would never be one.

“Are you sure you want to?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. If she wasn’t ready he could wait, but he would head straight into the bathroom and take care of his issue. He wouldn’t be able to contain himself.

“I’m sure.” In the low lighting, Brenik realized that Rana’s brown eyes were flecked with gold. The tiny discovery about her had him feeling more for her than he already was. Her small mole was waiting for him to kiss, which he did before caressing her lips once more.

Brenik slid into her, then paused to catch his breath, before beginning to move. He was going to fall in love with her—he just knew it.

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