Chapter Seven
Jenny had kissed a man before. She’d had the one boyfriend, after all, to experiment with. With all too much clarity, she recalled his sloppy embraces, the mashing and odd sensation of mouths pressed together.
That experience? Nothing compared to the embrace with Felipe.
One touch, just one, and her whole body ignited with heat. One firm slide of his lips on hers, and moisture rushed to her most private place, and a throb started within. His tongue flicked at the seam of her lips, and, instead of wanting to pull away, her breath stuttered, her mouth parted, and she clutched tight at his shoulders.
When he slid his tongue into her mouth, gliding it along her own, a moan sounded. Was that me? Indeed it was, just like it was her squirming on his lap, her sex aching for something. Something he understood and could give her.
A distinctly male hand, not that of a boy but calloused and sure, crept up her thigh, dragging her skirts with it. Cool air caressed her bare skin. Deft fingers kneaded her flesh. A warm, wet mouth did decadent things to her own. An oddly compelling need built within her.
Knuckles brushed the top of her mound, teasing. They returned, lower. The tip of a finger lightly skimmed across her clit. Again. Her breath caught as Felipe teased her with feather-light strokes.
A deep rumbling vibrated. Shook her. Was he … purring?
Shocked, she opened her eyes and found him staring at her, his eyes bright yellow and glowing, the hunger in them all too apparent. The grumbling purr came from him, from his feline side. And it struck her then in that moment how different he was from the men she’d met before.
A stranger. A stranger who was taking liberties with her body. Pleasurable ones, but still, Jenny couldn’t help but wonder at how quickly she’d forgotten herself at his touch.
With a gasp, she leapt from his lap, her skirts tumbling back down to cover her throbbing sex. But she couldn’t hide the fullness of her lips, the flush in her cheeks, or the racing of her pulse.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?”
“Because. We hardly know each other.”
“We would have before the night was over, and quite intimately too,” he drawled before curving his lips into a mischievous grin.
“I don’t know what kind of magic you’re using on me, but it needs to stop.”
“No magic. Just pure unadulterated attraction.”
“I am not attracted to you.” Lie. She was. But Teles always taught her to never admit the truth unless it was to her advantage.
“I think I just proved otherwise, or would you like me to show you again?”
Yes please. She retreated a step, and he laughed, a low husky sound that skated along her exposed skin leaving goose bumps behind. And not the frightened kind.
“Stop that.”
“Stop what?” he asked as he rose from the couch.
“Whatever you’re doing.”
“I’m showing my appreciation for a beautiful woman. What’s wrong with that?”
He thinks I’m beautiful? Liar! His words dunked her in a cold shower of reality. “You’re doing this because you think it will convince me to go with you. Well, you can stop. You don’t need to fake or pretend interest in me. If I go, it will be because I want to and not because of your skills as a lover.”
“You think I’m faking it?” His tone and raised brow of surprise seemed real, but Jenny was well aware of her shortcomings.
“Oh please. Are you going to tell me a man like yourself is overcome with lust by the sight of me? I do own a mirror you know.” For years Jenny had the time to compare herself against the perfect beauty of her aunts. Beside their golden splendor and different, but shapely, figures, she was a pale, freakish-looking imitation. Everything about her was slightly off, from her voice to her strange hair to her overly wide hips and bosom and even her pale skin, which refused to tan even the slightest bit. Oh, and how about the fact her legs were covered in shiny scales?
Her only boyfriend had to be enchanted by her aunt to pay her any mind, and yet Felipe expected her to believe he was beset with desire for her? Ha. She wasn’t that gullible. If her own mother couldn’t see something to love, then how could a perfect stranger?
“I think it’s time I went to bed,” she announced.
“Great idea.”
“Alone,” she added pointedly.
“Ah, but my kitty loves to cuddle.”
How a grown man could look so cute pouting, she couldn’t have said. All she knew was it required more strength of will than she would have credited to shake her head. After that, she didn’t say a word. She’d already spoken more in that one day than she ever recalled, the novelty of someone who could not only listen but pretended interest, and who wasn’t one of the aunts, a joy she’d not expected.
Was it possible she could find more people who could tolerate her voice in Hell? She wondered as she ignored his teasing smile, a smile she aimed for when she tossed him a pillow and a blanket. Could she forge a new life, a different life for herself in the rings? She pondered those questions as she pointed to the couch while ignoring his moue of disappointment.
Did she have the courage needed to even attempt to leave the island? Even if they could make it past the Styx monsters, could she start over?
Maybe.
But … she was scared. I don’t want to be alone again. She’d spent most of her early childhood virtually that way. What if she went to Hell and found herself shunned again?
Then I could always come back. The aunts loved her, even grumpy Thelxiope. But what if the lover she yearned for, the one man who would accept her for who she was, never wrecked upon the shores? Would she die alone? Or could she find the courage to perhaps seek out happiness? Yes, she might fail, but she could also find great happiness. Either way, she would never know unless she tried.
And on that note, she went to sleep, certain she couldn’t ignore the fact the sexiest man ever slept only feet away, yet she did manage to slip into a deep slumber.
A pleasant dream where she ran through the mossy meadow on the isle while a giant kitty chased her. A single pounce was all it took for him to knock her down, gently, onto the spongy surface. Sitting atop her, his weight crushing, his slimy tongue laved her face with cold, wet strokes while cold air—
Jenny awoke suddenly only to realize her dream wasn’t quite gone. Something did press on her chest, and something wet covered her mouth, preventing her from screaming. Eyes wide, she peered in the darkness, seeing only a vague shape hovering over her, a shape that wasn’t Felipe and stank something fierce.
Death, decay, rotted fish, and stagnant seaweed. Whatever the scent truly was comprised of, it didn’t matter. All Jenny knew was it didn’t belong in her cave, she didn’t want it touching her, and she certainly wasn’t going to leave with it willingly.
Gross or not, she bit down on the flesh covering her mouth, and as the thing let out a pained grunt, she screamed.
And she didn’t scream alone.