Page 47 of Nothing to Fear
It takes me a while, but I finally find the section on each family. It traces them from the year the school was created in the 1600s, starting with the founders. I follow the list, flipping page after page until I find Lucian Thorne, then skip to the next family, Harrow, then Grimsley, Mortwood, and Ashcroft.
Maybe each family is part of the key, like pieces of a puzzle.
“What are you looking at with your mouth hanging open?”
I slam the book closed so fast, a breeze blows my hair out of my face.
“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”
“So jumpy,” he says as he drops his bag to the floor, leaning down and grabbing my face with his hands. Asher doesn’t hesitate, his mouth meeting mine in a hard, bruising kiss. I respond right away, my hands reaching out and hauling him into my lap. Asher straddles me, and my dick hardens between us. My tongue slips out, licking across his plush lips, a silent plea to open for me.
Asher groans against my mouth as our tongues meet, and I swallow down every single one. My hands grip his hips, digging my fingertips into his flesh. God, he tastes so good. I never would have thought in my wildest dreams that it could feel this good between two people.
The candles flicker around us as we start to slow and come back to earth, shadows licking up the walls of the room, our lips breaking apart, Asher’s head falling to rest against my own. I’m left panting and out of breath, my heartracing behind my ribs, telling my head what it already knows.
“I’ve been thinking about doing that all day, baby.” Every time Asher says something like that to me, it’s a balm, healing every single insecurity, every single thing I question about myself. Asher is slowly healing me, giving me the courage to be myself.
“Me too.”
“Are you ready to study?”
“No. I want to look for a way into the cemetery. I found something the other day I want to show you.”
Excitement gleams in his dark eyes, his features brightening. It’s so heartbreakingly beautiful when he smiles.
“Show me! Lead with that next time!”
“You tasted too good. The world could have gone up in flames around us, and I wouldn’t have stopped.”
Asher smirks at me as he lifts himself off. Moving to the bookshelf, I pull the books off and turn my flashlight on. “Look for yourself,” I say, gesturing to the space I created to peer at the back wall.
Asher looks through the shelf and reads out loud, “Veritas latet.
I’ve read that somewhere before.”
“Do you know where?”
“No, but it’s going to drive me nuts until I remember. There has to be something down here that leads to the mausoleum. I’m going to pull some old maps and see if there is a blueprint anywhere. There has to be something, right?”
The school is old, and the secrets run deeper than the graves themselves. If the school wanted us to find the entrance, I think we’d find it.
Chapter 19
Asher
There are a million things that should be occupying my mind right now, but none of them hold a flame to Silas Blackwood. Everything about him calls to me, and I don’t know, I never noticed it before. How I ever went a day without knowing what it was like to kiss his lips, touch his skin, make him moan.
I should be focusing on searching for the hidden entrance to get us to the graveyard, I should be tutoring him, studying myself, but instead, I can’t keep my eyes off of him. The unmistakable outline of his hard length taunts me as he looks over notes from class. We took a break from reading maps as our eyes started to cross. Not being able to touch him during the day has been torture, and now that we’re alone. That’s all I want to do.
“Take out your cock, Silas,” I demand after I’ve read the same line twenty times. Silas’ eyes go wild, darting from me to the open room. The chances of someone walking down here are slim to none, and he knows it; it didn’t stop us the otherday when I finally got on my knees and took him to the back of my throat.
“You’re serious?”
“Deadly,” I say with a straight face, the conviction in my voice strong, leaving no room for misunderstanding.
Silas moves slowly, with trembling hands as he works the button of his pants open. My eyes track the slow slide of the zipper as it separates. I love how worked up he gets, how easily I can get him going, love how flustered he gets when I’m more aggressive, lovehim.
“That’s my good boy. Let me see it.”
