standing on the edge of a cliff with an unbearable urge
to jump.
“Charmeine—” he croaked, just as she attempted to push by again,
but Haniel interrupted before she could bring herself to move.
“Do you realize how you’re looking at her?” he said to Jeremiel
from the top of the stairs.
Jeremiel’s head swiveled to his best friend. His expression went
from angry to sad to something so complicated she couldn’t even begin to figure
it out.
“This is what I’m talking about, you know.” Haniel climbed the
last step and moved closer. “You can’t help the way you feel, not at all.” He
looked at her, hazel eyes hot. “Neither can I.”
She took a nervous step back, hands twisted in her towel. “I have
no idea what you’re talking about.”
He sighed. “I know.” Then he reached for her, fingers tracing a
line of fire along her cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”
She frowned. Weren’t he and Jeremiel together? What was he doing?
“Stop,” Jeremiel said, sounding tortured.
Haniel’s fingers dropped away and he turned to his friend. “Why?”
Jeremiel closed his eyes. “Because I’m afraid you’re right.”
“Of course, I’m right. What I don’t understand is why you’re so
reluctant,” Haniel said gently.
Jeremiel sighed. “My father wouldn’t understand this.”
Haniel pursed his lips angrily. A heartbeat passed. Then he blew
out his breath harshly. “Jeremiel, your father is dead. Gone to the winds. What
he thinks no longer matters. None of them matter. Not your parents, not mine.
They repudiated our people.”
Charmeine couldn’t move. She wasn’t sure she wanted to anymore.
The tension between the two men was palpable and frightening, but it also
called to her. Something about them touched the deepest recesses of her soul
and made her feel things she never thought she could. She swayed, light-headed,
and put a hand to the wall. The old wallpaper pricked her fingertips, but she
hardly noticed.
Haniel touched Jeremiel’s face the same way he’d touched hers and
abruptly, the two men were kissing, hot and heavy, not one foot away from where
she stood. She blushed, totally unable to look away, and then Haniel reached
out and drew her in, kissing her with just as much desperation as he’d kissed
Jeremiel.
Dear God, what is he
doing? she thought
brokenly. Nothing would ever be the same again. She’d tried so hard not to want
him. Them. Her fingers tightened on her towel convulsively. I don’t care if this is insane. I want this. She threw herself into the kiss. He sensed her capitulation and groaned,
kissing deeper.
“Don’t stop,” she protested when he lifted his head, heat running
through her the way lava flows downhill, but then Jeremiel was there, mouth on
hers. She let him pull her closer, folding her body up against his until she
let go of the towel. He tasted like blue skies. Like freedom. She squirreled
closer, wanting to climb inside him. He licked into her mouth, nipping her lips
on the way in, and then Haniel pushed up against her back, squeezing her
between them. His cock was heavy and hard on her ass as he breathed hotly
against her neck.
“God, you smell so good, Charmeine,” he said, mouthing down her
shoulder.
She shuddered and tried to wrench her brain into gear. Was she
really doing this? What the hell was she doing? Her fingers dug into Jeremiel’s
arms. The marks on his skin felt hotter than the rest of him, as if they were
more than ordinary tattoos.
“I need—” Jeremiel began, but she kissed his words away. She
needed, too, and quite desperately. She needed answers and comfort and
assurance. She craved these things that she’d hadn’t had since her parents
died. Since her grandmother left her to fend for herself.
“Fuck,” Haniel said, grinding harder against her body. “Jeremiel,
bedroom.”
Jeremiel broke their kiss and she grabbed his hair, trying to
bring him back. In answer, he stepped back and picked her up, swinging her
to jump.
“Charmeine—” he croaked, just as she attempted to push by again,
but Haniel interrupted before she could bring herself to move.
“Do you realize how you’re looking at her?” he said to Jeremiel
from the top of the stairs.
Jeremiel’s head swiveled to his best friend. His expression went
from angry to sad to something so complicated she couldn’t even begin to figure
it out.
“This is what I’m talking about, you know.” Haniel climbed the
last step and moved closer. “You can’t help the way you feel, not at all.” He
looked at her, hazel eyes hot. “Neither can I.”
She took a nervous step back, hands twisted in her towel. “I have
no idea what you’re talking about.”
He sighed. “I know.” Then he reached for her, fingers tracing a
line of fire along her cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”
She frowned. Weren’t he and Jeremiel together? What was he doing?
“Stop,” Jeremiel said, sounding tortured.
Haniel’s fingers dropped away and he turned to his friend. “Why?”
Jeremiel closed his eyes. “Because I’m afraid you’re right.”
“Of course, I’m right. What I don’t understand is why you’re so
reluctant,” Haniel said gently.
Jeremiel sighed. “My father wouldn’t understand this.”
Haniel pursed his lips angrily. A heartbeat passed. Then he blew
out his breath harshly. “Jeremiel, your father is dead. Gone to the winds. What
he thinks no longer matters. None of them matter. Not your parents, not mine.
They repudiated our people.”
Charmeine couldn’t move. She wasn’t sure she wanted to anymore.
The tension between the two men was palpable and frightening, but it also
called to her. Something about them touched the deepest recesses of her soul
and made her feel things she never thought she could. She swayed, light-headed,
and put a hand to the wall. The old wallpaper pricked her fingertips, but she
hardly noticed.
Haniel touched Jeremiel’s face the same way he’d touched hers and
abruptly, the two men were kissing, hot and heavy, not one foot away from where
she stood. She blushed, totally unable to look away, and then Haniel reached
out and drew her in, kissing her with just as much desperation as he’d kissed
Jeremiel.
Dear God, what is he
doing? she thought
brokenly. Nothing would ever be the same again. She’d tried so hard not to want
him. Them. Her fingers tightened on her towel convulsively. I don’t care if this is insane. I want this. She threw herself into the kiss. He sensed her capitulation and groaned,
kissing deeper.
“Don’t stop,” she protested when he lifted his head, heat running
through her the way lava flows downhill, but then Jeremiel was there, mouth on
hers. She let him pull her closer, folding her body up against his until she
let go of the towel. He tasted like blue skies. Like freedom. She squirreled
closer, wanting to climb inside him. He licked into her mouth, nipping her lips
on the way in, and then Haniel pushed up against her back, squeezing her
between them. His cock was heavy and hard on her ass as he breathed hotly
against her neck.
“God, you smell so good, Charmeine,” he said, mouthing down her
shoulder.
She shuddered and tried to wrench her brain into gear. Was she
really doing this? What the hell was she doing? Her fingers dug into Jeremiel’s
arms. The marks on his skin felt hotter than the rest of him, as if they were
more than ordinary tattoos.
“I need—” Jeremiel began, but she kissed his words away. She
needed, too, and quite desperately. She needed answers and comfort and
assurance. She craved these things that she’d hadn’t had since her parents
died. Since her grandmother left her to fend for herself.
“Fuck,” Haniel said, grinding harder against her body. “Jeremiel,
bedroom.”
Jeremiel broke their kiss and she grabbed his hair, trying to
bring him back. In answer, he stepped back and picked her up, swinging her
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