Page 17 of House of Pawns
“Do you think you’ll ever be able to go back to it?” I ask as he caps off the second bag. Using careful, practiced hands, he takes the needle out and sets about cleaning up the mess.
He shrugs. “I doubt it. There’s a lot of blood involved in being an EMT. I’m not sure I’d be able to control myself.” There’s a truckload of self-loathing in that statement.
“You’ve done an amazing job so far,” I say softly. “Look at what you’ve been doing the last three days. You have amazing self-control.”
It took some major convincing, but I talked Ian into draining fifty percent more blood than what is supposed to be done per day. I need as much as I can manage in the next few days. Rath had a fridge installed in the office just for the bags I plan to fill it with.
“It’s one thing when it’s you,” Ian says when he’s finished disposing of everything in the trash he brought over to the edge of my bed, where we’re doing the bloody deed. “I think it will be entirely different with a stranger. Besides,” he says with a sigh, “my hours were always super irregular. What happens when they need me to work a day shift and I can’t go out without wishing I would die because my eyes feel like they’re exploding in my head?”
“How has it been so far?” I ask as I take his hand in mine and place his palm flat against my cheek. It’s ten in the morning. The curtains in my room are pulled shut, only a tiny amount of light trickles through the sides of them. I can barelysee anything at all, but Ian managed with no trouble. “Is the light bothering you right now?”
He shakes his head. “Not really. But it’s weird, like I can sense how light it is outside. Every fiber of my being is aware of how bright it is outside and there’s this feeling of unease. It’s kind of hard to describe.”
I nod, enjoying the sensation it brings against my cheek when I do so. “It makes sense.”
“Trying to sleep is damn near impossible,” he says as he rubs a thumb over my cheek. I let my eyes slide closed in enjoyment. “When you hear every tiny little sound happening in this gigantic house of yours. Hear the housekeepers. Hear Rath pacing in the library. Hear you breathe.”
A small smile comes over my lips, but I keep my eyes closed.
“And my mind is always racing a million miles a minute,” he says softly. “Thinking about everything I am. Thinking about the King. About you creating your own House. Everything.”
“Did you find any answers last night?” I change the subject because I just don’t want to go toward the road Ian is looking down. Last night, Ian left to go search for clues at the Ward property as to why he is back from the dead.
His lips form into a thin line and he shakes his head. “I went through the shed. There was a bunch of boxes of old crap: clothes, yearbooks, just stuff. But nothing that was helpful.”
“We’ll find answers soon,” I promise him, knowing I can’t really keep it.
My heart feels as if it sinks a little lower in my chest. I don’t want to think about his past right now. Don’t want to think about lying family or unforeseeable circumstances.
I just want to feel Ian. Feel him against me. Feel the breath in his chest and the pulse in his neck as I place my lips there.
I blink slow, studying him, and lace my fingers behind his neck. I shift my position so that I’m straddling his lap.
“Do you sometimes just want to sit and wonder at the miracle that we’ve been handed?” I say quietly as I study his eyes. A deep, dark flare of red sparks in his eyes. Just a tiny bit. “That you were dead. We knew we had an expiration date, that once I resurrected, we’d be finished. And now…”
I lean into him, feeling his body wake to life. My lips kiss their way across his jawline, over the weeklong growth there. I kind of like it. My lips trail to his neck. “Not many people get second chances like this.”
Ian’s hands slide over my back, one slipping under my sweater to brush over my bare skin. His hands are warm and big enough for me to feel the comfort of their strength. “I know we’ve both been distracted the last week,” he says as he lets me trace my tongue over his neck. “But I promise, it hasn’t been lost on me that this is a miracle. More than I ever could have asked for.”
I’m so incredibly grateful that he doesn’t mope and cry about it being in a way he never wanted.
Ian rolls and pins my back to the bed. My legs part around him and he presses his pelvis into mine. Every female nerve ending in me goes crazy. I place my hands on either side of his face and he brings his lips to mine. His lips are hungry and demanding. His tongue is invasive.
But there is always that slight hesitance when we are together. The part of himself that he holds back and keeps in control. Ian is a virgin. And I love that about him.
It makes me feel safe.
It also makes me want him like I’ve never wanted anything in my life.
Us. Here. Like this. It changes everything we ever thought before about Ian and Alivia.
Ian kisses his way down my neck, over my chest, and between my breasts. But they’re slow, reverent. When he’s over my heart, he lingers with his eyes closed.
“It’s such a strong sound,” he says quietly. A tiny smile rests on his lips. “I’ve listened to a lot of heartbeats over the span of my career. It never held the same significance until now.”
I bring my hands back up to the sides of his face and he shifts to look me in the eye. There’s still that same deep red glow. But I’m not afraid. Ian wouldn’t hurt me. This is my Ian, and here we are, defying odds and death.
“You and I,” I say as I study those eyes as best I can in the dark. “We once had an expiration date. Now, we have forever before us.”
