Page 35 of Written in Sin
I don’t want her in white. I want her in my hands, in my bed, and now? Now there isn’t anything preventing that. It isn’t anything new. What we are, it wasn’t ever going to be anything else. The only thing that’s changed is that now, I won’t have to hide what I’d do for her, and what I do to her.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Catarina
I’ve been fidgeting all day. I was so worried about leaving him this morning, but I didn’t want to add to whatever he had to prepare for. With Brady, with Fenris.
I’m walking down a hallway when I hear his voice. “There’s my girl.” I feel hands trail over my waist as Zed spins me around to face him, bringing me into his chest. His lips crash down on mine and I open my mouth for him. His hands trail up and down my back, caressing me. He pulls back and the look on his face, I’m not sure I can place it, he just looks different. His smile seems genuine. Plus, he’s all over me. During the day.
“Are you okay? You’re not going into shock or anything, right?”
He leans his shoulder against the wall, cocking a brow. “What? Can’t a guy just feel alive on such a beautiful day?” He’s definitely going into shock. Maybe he has an aneurysm. His usual intensity has been replaced by something lighter. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s acting like he’s actually looking forward to something. He spins me into the wall, pinning me in. Hands are on either side of my head and he’sso close, I can almost taste him. I’m shocked at this display of intense PDA but you won’t hear me complain. I trust him. He’s the only person I’ve ever put my faith in that hasn’t made me regret it.
I grip the front of his shirt and his tongue pushes past my lips, pulling a moan from deep within me. My back curves away from the wall and I push my body into his. The possessiveness in his grip has my legs turning to jello. He breaks the kiss, bringing his lips to my ear. His whispers cause goosebumps to spread up my arms. “Let’s just say… things are going in my favor.” He traces his finger under my chin.
“Should I be worried? Am I going to have to help you dig a grave or something?”
His head leans to the side. “Speaking of graves… Meet me at the graveyard tonight?”
The mischievous look in his eyes excites me, and I raise an eyebrow. “The graveyard?”
He nods, glancing around to make sure no one is close enough to hear. “Yeah. I’ve got to show you where I hide the bodies.” He laughs, and I shove him back.
“Planning on burying something?” I pull at his shirt again, teasing him.
He winks at me. “Only if you beg for it.”
I stop at the wooden dresser and stare at my own reflection in the small cracked mirror hung on the wall above it.
While I’m not much of a dress wearer, I did bring one. I pull it out and sling it, trying to get rid of the deep wrinkle in thecenter. It doesn’t work, but oh well. The fabric is soft between my fingers, the dark material slips over my head and falls into place around my body, brushing against my skin. It’s a black slinky material that exposes both shoulders. I never wear revealing clothes, which is why I’ve never worn this dress. It shows a little—no, it shows a lot of cleavage.
I grab the two small bottles tucked in the drawer’s back corner. One is filled with golden almond oil, the other is dark from the richness of vanilla extract. Unscrewing the lids, I carefully tip a few drops of each into my palm.The warm scent clings to my skin when the liquids blend together. I dab it on my throat first, then behind my ears, and finally put the remaining mixture on my wrists, bringing them together.
I take my time, rubbing it in slowly while I think about Grandma when she handed me these two tiny bottles. I wanted to smell like her; this is one of the only things I have left. How Mom came from her never made sense to me because Grandma was so loving and affectionate. I look down, seeing her necklace in my drawer and pick it up to open it. My finger trails over the dainty chain before I run my thumb over its smooth pendant. I’ve only worn it a few times and would love nothing more than to wear it tonight, but I know we won’t be keeping our hands off of each other so I really don’t want to risk it.
Once I feel ready, I leave my room, strolling through the corridor before coming to a stop when I hear a door shut up ahead and look up just as someone rounds the corner, disappearing around it. That back looks familiar… Their movements were rushed, like they were in a hurry. I quietly start walking again until I reach the door they just came out of, only to realize something.
Isn’t this Melinda’s room? Is she back, too? I think about going the direction she went, but I need to get to Zed. Plus, Idon’t want to be caught wandering around this late, it isn’t my business anyway.
I pick up the pace in my steps, being as quiet as possible but also trying to get out as fast as I can. I make it to one of the back doors and cut across the porch. The steps groan beneath me as I step onto the ground. The moonlight breaks through the branches, helping me see the trail a little better as I make my way through the trees.
When I see gravestones in the distance, I pick up the pace in my steps. There’s a weathered shed nestled in the corner close to the tree line where I can see a figure leaning against its side closest to a few tombstones, facing my way. Zed meets me at the gate. He’s wearing his usual white button-up top, the sleeves rolled to his elbows showing off his strong forearms, and my thighs clench together. He pulls me into his chest, locking his strong arms around my body. “You smell so good.”
“I was tired of the blood and laundry detergent smell. Didn’t think you’d mind.” The warmth of him lingers even after he pulls back slightly, his hands resting on my shoulders.
He shrugs. “With the dress you have on it wouldn’t have mattered. I’d still bury myself in you.”
I jump when I hear a loud noise, like something being shifted around, or maybe something fell? My head turns to the shed. “What was that?” I ask, my voice suddenly tight from the sudden tension now in my chest.
My eyes go wide at his answer. “It’s Brady.” He says it so matter-of-fact that a hard expression falls over his face. I know he sees my unease, and the questions flashing through my mind, because he gives me an answer. “I’m still deciding what to do with him.” I’m suddenly queasy, but at least the shuffling inside the shed stops. I hear the don’t-ask anymore-questions, don’t-spoil-the-mood tone in his voice.
Alright then, I guess we aren’t going to talk about that, yet. I soften my voice. “So…” I say before trailing off. “Why’d you want to meet in a graveyard?” Moonlight spills over him, making it easy for me to see the smile spreading across his face.
“Got a couple people I want you to meet.”
“Um, excuse me?”
He laughs and holds out his hand. “Come on…”
