Chasing Secrets (Capturing Magic Series Book 4), Page 2

  Maybe I should stop …

  “Can I …? Can I touch you, too?” Arrow asks through his soft breathing.

  I …

  What the heck should I say?

  I’m not sure, so I end up not saying anything, just nodding.

  He pauses for a slamming heartbeat, and then he traces his fingers upward along my spine, his metal-tipped fingers cold against my skin, but the sensation feels all shivery in the best way possible. My eyelids lower, my lips parting, as his fingers reach the base of my neck and begin to make a path downward.

  A moan is burning at the tip of my tongue, but it never makes it past my lips as his mouth comes down on mine. While the kiss isn’t rough, it’s definitely rougher than the other kisses he gave me. He kisses me deeply, his hands wandering along my waist, the backs of my thighs.

  An uneven exhale falters from his lips, and then he bites down on my lip, causing me to gasp and my grip on him to tighten. He moans softly as his mouth leaves mine. He doesn’t pull away, though, resting his forehead against mine with his eyes shut. Then, with one of his hands, he gradually travels down my side to the hem of my dress. I’m panting, barely able to stand upright, as his fingers then move upward, making a path along my thigh to the hem of my panties.

  I stop breathing altogether, and he pauses, his breaths feathering against my lips.

  “I can stop,” he whispers, his fingers resting there, almost touching me but not quite.

  My heart stammers in my chest, tingles dancing across every inch of me. Part of me is terrified and wants to tell him to stop, but the other part of me desperately wants him to touch me, to see what it feels like.

  What should I do …

  My lips part. “No, don’t stop—”

  Someone knocks on the door, and Arrow and I both jump back, darting away from each other. A snap of a second later, the door swings open and East strolls into my room.

  “So, we have a bit of a hiccup …” He trails off as he catches sight of us standing in the closet doorway. His gaze bounces back and forth between us, then curiosity sparkles in his eyes. “Why are you both blushing?”

  “We’re not,” I try to lie, but my cheeks are so warm that I can only imagine how pink they are right now.

  East rubs his hand across his mouth, struggling not to smile. “You completely are,” he insists. “And while I’d love to stand here and make you tell me what I’m sure is a very interesting story, we don’t have time for that right now. We’re having a meeting in the living room. We’ve been waiting for you two to come out, but …” He looks at Arrow curiously. “I thought you came in here to help her pick out an outfit?”

  “I did,” he replies, scratching the back of his neck. “I was just … We were just about to do that.”

  We were? That’s news to me since I’m pretty sure I was about to let him slip his fingers inside of me.

  Oh my cyborgs, I completely was!

  My cheeks flame as I realize that I was about to tell Arrow to touch me there.

  And East totally notices my blushing.

  “Good gods, Arrow,” he says while assessing me. “What in the worlds have you done to make our little pet look like a blushing, innocent pixie?”

  “I’m not blushing,” I attempt to lie again. “And I don’t look like a pixie at all.” Although I may very well have pixie in me. The types of creatures I am made from was never specified. I just know that I have a lot of different types of creatures’ blood flowing through in my veins.

  “No, you don’t,” East agrees. “You look like the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

  I give him an unimpressed stare. “Your cheesy lines don’t work on me.”

  “No, it’s my fingers that make you come undone,” he replies with a smirk.

  If it were possible to die from mortification, I’d be dead where I stand.

  He’s talking about how his fingers brushed across my nipple and gave me an orgasm only about an hour ago. You know, an hour before Arrow came in here and we started messing around in the closet.

  A smile curves across East’s face. “Hurry up and get dressed. Then both of you come into the living room so we can discuss a few things.” He turns to leave then, but not without winking at Arrow first and saying, “Have fun, man.”

  When Arrow gives him a dirty look, he just laughs and strolls out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

  Silence stretches between us and, for a moment, I worry that what happened is going to make things awkward between Arrow and me. Then he turns to me.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  I nod. “Are you?”

  “I’m okay if you’re okay,” he tells me, searching my eyes.

  “I’m fine. Although, I could do without East trying to embarrass us.”

  “Yeah, that’ll never happen.”

  “Probably not.”

  It grows quiet again between us, a bit of awkwardness rising.

  Unsure of what else to do, I stand on my tiptoes and press a kiss to his lips. When I pull back, he looks a bit dazedly confused, but a smile graces his face.

  I smile, too, but then I return my attention to my closet. “I know I need to get dressed, but I have no idea what to wear.”

  It takes him a moment to tear his gaze off me, and then he starts rummaging through the clothes hanging in the closet. “The key to blending in, in this world, is to wear darker colors. It’s also fucking freezing, so warm attire is a must.”

  I nod, partially listening to him and partially just observing him; the way he chews on his bottom lip, the way his bronzed fingers sift through the clothes, the way his lips move as he speaks. A lot of humans think cyborgs are mechanical and cold, but Arrow is all warmth and softness.

  “I think pants are probably a good thing,” he adds. “As for the top, I think you’ll be okay with something sleeveless as long as you wear a coat over it …” His gaze drifts to me, a crease forming between his brows. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  My brows dip. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

  He nibbles on his bottom lip. “It’s just that you seem distracted, and you’re staring at me.”

  “Oh.” Gods, could I be any more obvious? “I was just thinking about … stuff.”

  His gaze sweeps across my face then, pausing for a beat, he leans in and lightly brushes his lips against mine. “I wish we had more time, but unfortunately, we don’t.”

  “I know.” I quietly sigh then force myself to focus on the task at hand. Time to be professional, Harlynn. “So, what should I wear then?”

  Wetting his lips with his tongue, he returns his attention to the clothes. “Well, I’m thinking this.” He removes a pair of tight, black pants with zippers on the sides.

  I take them from him. “You know, this is like the most normal thing I think you’ve picked for me to wear.”

  He offers me a small smile. “Don’t get too excited yet. I’m thinking you should wear this with it so you can blend in with the edgy style of this planet.” He hands me a leather corset top that’s trimmed with lace and laces up in the front with a purple velvet ribbon.

  “Another corset?” I pull a face.

  “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to,” he says. “However, it will help you blend in.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I assure him. “The last one was just so hard to get into.”

  “I can help you again,” he offers while nervously scratching his wrist.

  “Okay.” I give him a grateful smile. “Let me just get these pants on, and then you can help me squeeze into this thing.” I set down the corset then hesitate, unsure if I should ask him to step out or not. I mean, it seems a little bit strange to change in front of him, but then I think about how he just had his hand up my dress and his fingers were about to slip inside me and it doesn’t seem that weird.

  “I can step out,” he offers, his cheeks tinted pink. He then moves toward the doorway without waiting for me to respond.

  “No,
you’re fine.” I hope, anyway. My heart is going crazy like a damn lunatic, though. “I can just slip the pants on really quick, and then we can get to work on squeezing me into this corset.”

  When he glances at me, I offer him a smile then step into the pants without taking my dress off. I get those up and fasten the button. “See? Easy peasy.”

  He smiles, but his eyes are roving all over me.

  I do my best to focus on getting dressed, because if I don’t, I’m going to kiss him, and that’ll probably lead to a reenactment of what we were doing minutes ago.

  I work on untangling the lace on the front of the shirt. Once I get that done, I realize the next step is to take off my dress. I don’t have a bra on, and I don’t plan on putting one on since the corset leaves very little extra room. And while I’m comfortable with Arrow, I’m self-conscious enough that I’m not sure I’m ready to just tug off my dress and stand topless in front of him.

  “Um … I’m just going to take my dress off really quickly,” I say then turn around.

  My heart is hammering so loudly in my chest that I can barely hear anything else as I lift the dress over my head and toss it aside. Then, with shaky fingers, I struggle to figure out how to put the corset on.

  “That star on the back of your neck looks more prominent now,” Arrow mutters, tracing along the lines of the mark that he discovered on me that we still know hardly anything about.

  I will my voice to come out even as he touches the back of my neck again. “It is?”

  “Yeah.” He brushes along the mark again. “Max said that all of your kind have this; that it’s the mark of the shadowed souls.”

  I frown. Great, I’m marked as a deadly creature. “So, does that mean, if a creature sees it, they’ll know what I am?”

  “More than likely not, since not many creatures know of your kind’s existence,” he clarifies. “Max says we should make sure to keep it hidden, though, just in case.”

  “So, make sure to wear my hair down. Got it.” I fiddle with the ribbon on the corset, trying not to fixate on a mark that brands me as a potential world-destroying creature. “I wish there was a way to get rid of it.”

  “We can maybe find a spell that could conceal it for a while.” His breath dusts the base of my neck and shivers kiss across my flesh.

  Just how close is he standing to me?

  His lips graze across my mark, giving me an answer.

  He’s close.

  So close I can almost feel him.

  “But you definitely don’t want to hide it forever,” he says, tracing a path along the lines that mark my skin. “It’s part of who you are.” Then he brushes his fingers against my shoulder blades, and I move like a magnet, leaning toward him instead of away, my bare back resting against him.

  “Har,” he breathes out hoarsely as he continues to explore my flesh with his hands. “We don’t have time … I should … I …” Confliction floods his tone but fades as he slips his hands around my waist, spreading his fingers across my abdomen. “I … I want to touch you so badly, but we really need to get you ready, or East is going to come barging in here again.”

  He’s right—I know he is—but that doesn’t make me feel any less disappointed, even though I’m not positive where this was going.

  I sigh. “Yeah, I know.”

  He kisses the back of my neck again before stepping back. “Here. I’ll help you put on the corset.” He takes the corset from my hand, but then he pauses, question marks filling his eyes as he looks at me. “That is, if you’re okay with that?”

  I nod, and then he slips the corset over my head. Unlike the last time, the laces are in the front, so if I want him to lace them up, I’m going to have to turn around. It shouldn’t be a big deal. I mean, it’s not like my nipples are showing or anything. But a lot of me is.

  Woman up, Harlynn. This is just Arrow. And you already let him touch a lot of you.

  Sucking in a shaky breath, I turn around to face him. I almost cross my arms and cover myself but tell myself not to, that if I do, he’ll probably think it’s because I don’t want him looking at me.

  His gaze scrolls across me. “You’re so beautiful,” he says, meeting my gaze.

  “You guys keep saying that,” I say as he reaches forward with shaky fingers and begins fastening the ribbon on the corset.

  A half-smile graces his lips as he glances down at the ribbon. “That’s because it’s true.”

  I could argue with him, but it just seems stupid at this point. Instead, I say, “Well, so are you.” Then I reach up and trace my fingers along his face, his jawline, his lips.

  He sucks in an uneven breath then lifts his gaze. “As much as I love you touching me, you probably shouldn’t right now, because it makes me want to kiss and touch you again, and we really do have to hurry.”

  I sigh quietly, lowering my hand, causing a small, amused smile to grace his lips.

  He continues lacing up the ribbon, his face set in concentration as he dips his head closer to my chest—or, well, the ribbon. I watch him, the way his bronzed fingers move, the way he bites on his bottom lip every time he tightens the ribbon. I wasn’t lying when I said he’s beautiful. He really is. Inside and out. And I’m so glad he’s my friend.

  “You’re staring again,” Arrow quietly remarks, his gaze flitting to mine as he tugs on the ribbon.

  “Sorry,” I say, not a drop of remorse evident in my tone.

  A trace of a smile graces his lips again as he tugs on the last of the ribbon then secures it. “There,” he says, standing up straight. “It’s not too tight, is it?”

  I shake my head. “No. It’s actually perfect.”

  Smiling, he moves back and faces the shelves of shoes. “You should probably wear boots because of the snow.”

  My eyes widen. “Snow?”

  His gaze skates to me. “Have you ever seen snow before? I thought they got that on your old world.”

  “No. The world I lived on—or well, that I can remember living on—only got ice storms. Never snow. Although, since I’m like super old and can’t remember most of my past, maybe I have seen it before.” I crinkle my nose at that thought.

  Just how much stuff can I not remember? How much stuff have I experienced that I don’t remember? What if I’ve done all the stuff that I’ve done with these guys with others and just don’t remember it? Then again, everything feels new …

  “What’re you thinking about?” he wonders, studying my expression.

  Um … yeah, I’m not about to tell him the entire context of my thoughts, but I can at least tell the partial truth.

  “I was just thinking about how I’m not even sure what I’ve experienced since I can’t remember much about my life,” I say with a shrug.

  He wavers. “I don’t want to scare you, but I also don’t want to lie to you, either.”

  “Then please don’t,” I tell him. “Whatever the truth is, I need to hear it.”

  He sets the boots down that he’s holding then cups my cheek in his hand, smoothing his finger along my cheekbone. “Max believes that, until you were put on the human world, more than likely, you were just being stored somewhere.”

  Huh? “Stored?”

  “It was probably more like … imprisoned, but I didn’t want to use that word.” He offers me an apologetic look.

  “Oh.” I frown. “So maybe I didn’t ever experience anything but imprisonment up until I was put on the human world?”

  “Possibly.” Sympathy, or maybe it’s empathy, consumes his expression. “We’re going to find out where you come from,” he promises. “And then, whatever that is, we’ll be there for you. Please, please, don’t forget that, okay?”

  He’s worried. Worried that whatever we find out about me is going to break me. And considering I cut my arm open after I found out what I am, I guess his worry is right on the mark. Although, he doesn’t know about me cutting myself. Well, unless East told him. He told me he wouldn’t, though. But with the way Arrow is lo
oking at me right now, I have to wonder …

  “Did East tell you about what happened in the bathroom?” I ask, the spot on my arm where I cut myself throbbing. Not that the mark is still there. No, it healed hours after I split the skin open. Apparently, my kind, while they can get hurt, also heal quickly.

  His brows furrow. “No. What happened?”

  “Nothing. Never mind.” I move to pick up the boots he set down, but he holds me in place, angling my head back up to look at him.

  “You can talk to me,” he says. “I promise, whatever it is—whatever happened—I’ll understand.” He rubs his lips together. “I want to know everything about you.”

  I try to imagine telling him everything about me. Then again, he already knows a lot. A lot, a lot.

  “Well, I want to know everything about you, too,” I tell him.

  He rubs his jawline. “Okay. How about this? You tell me one thing about you, and then I’ll tell you one thing about me. And we’ll keep doing this until we’ve learned all about each other. We can’t do it all right now, but we can start.”

  While I’m not a huge fan of telling him everything about me, I want to learn more about him, so I nod. “Okay. Do you want me to go first or you?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “Okay, what do you want to know?” I ask, though I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.

  “I want to know what happened in the bathroom.”

  I internally sigh. “After I found out what I am, I ran into the bathroom and cut open my arm.” I feel like a freak saying it aloud. “But only because I wanted to see what was inside me. East walked in on me and freaked out.”

  He doesn’t say anything right away, as if he’s struggling for the right words. “When I first got the real heart put inside me, I tried to cut it out. Asher caught me and stopped me from doing it … It was right after he rescued me from the experiment facility I’d been trapped at. The place … They did a lot of experiments on cyborgs and the heart … It felt so unnatural inside my chest, and loud and unfamiliar …” He pauses to take a breath. “I got used to it, though, and honestly, I’ve kind of grown to love it. It’s what makes me me, even if I’m not always completely okay with being that. I’m still working on it, but I think I’m getting better.” He shakes himself from his daze and looks at me. “My point is that I understand why you did that, but I also want you to know that it’ll get easier to deal with—that eventually, you’ll start getting more comfortable with yourself. And while it might take you a while to learn that what’s in you is good and beautiful, I already know that. I knew that the first time you took that rag from me, polished my arm, and told me we should be friends.”