The Glass Secret (Chain of Secrets) (49 page)

In Awe...

I opened my eyes a slight fraction, determined to espy
what
I had dreaded. It wasn’t that I was ever immensely afraid of him. He had never given me a reason to feel that he was dangerous or evil. It was more because I was afraid of what he would look like.

In the shadows, I could see him poised at the foot of my bed. I pretended to be asleep; my lashes veiled my vision with blurry lines. A heady sensation dulled my thoughts.

The streetlamp backlit his broad shoulders; they sat sturdy upon a lean frame. In the shadows of the light, I caught a glimpse of his face for the first time. I relaxed, but only a little. He was not the monster I had imagined. In fact, he was stunningly handsome in a somewhat unusual gothic way, as roguish faces so often are disarming. He was compellingly attractive.

The storm was directly overhead, lightning flashed, revealing his unshaven and chiseled face. On the crest of the darkness and in just a sliver of light, I could see his eyes cutting into the blackened room, looking for what, I did not know, I supposed it was me. And then, his eyes flashed upon my limp still figure. His pupils were dark pools of dilation, stirring with fire.

My lashes fluttered, for I wanted him to think I was just awakening; fully opening my eyes, they locked with his—the color was deep, darker than gray with specks of black. I would have recognized his eyes anywhere, even in a dream. They were familiar, his eyes—was he Rain, was this all just a manifestation of missing Rain? It couldn’t be, he was something beyond a mortal man.

I wished he were Rain. However, he was not. It bothered me that I was equally as drawn to him, as I had been to Rain. Who was he? This man—no, more like a godly beast, he was not of this world as Rain was.

For a split second an emotion of loyalty for Rain passed through me. Why? Despite my momentary thought, my lustful eyes instantaneously betrayed the feeling.

His alluring good looks suddenly awakened me below the waist. God, I was shameless. My heartbeat steadily rose as my fearful anticipation filled me with excitement and expectation. What did he want with me?

What if—
could it be
—him, the unrestrained mystery man that taunted me from the balcony when he had caught me there, a voyeur myself, unscrupulously spying on my neighbors. He had to be the voice from the balcony or the otherworldly entity that had been keeping me company.
Were they one in the same?

I was prepared to face my intruder straight on. I looked hard into his eyes and when doing so, I recognized that they were the same eyes that I had seen, but only for a second, in the reflection of the lobby mirror that night while watching my neighbors. I had to hear his voice to be certain if it was him or not.

I heard an imperceptible sound, quickly recognizing it was my own breath panting above the whisper. My thoughts at once returned to the devilishly handsome man before me. The blue-black sheen of his long tresses
was as dark as the ebony ink stains, dripping into his eyes. My eyes dropped to his mouth.

He smiled without equivocation, filled with lust and inflamed with a strand of sentiment, relocating into an intense stare that radiated from his sexy hooded eyes. The aphrodisiac of his charismatic gaze leaped into my heart and then traveled downward through my body to land…
there
.
Hello!
My Inner Siren cried out to be enraptured by this unknown man! She spared no inhibitions. Any fear that I had felt diffused when his lips curled up into the most lustful smile. I was wet with arousal before I could return a smile.

“Don’t be afraid of me. I am not here to hurt you.” His voice was penetrating. “You summoned me here...the light, you turned it off.”

“No. I-I—you.” I could barely speak my thoughts. “Are you—the...you’ve been watching me. But, I thought you were a—I mean, I have sensed your presence here with me. I felt you watching me while I slept. So, you’re the one who has been causing my constant state of goose bumps, huh? I’ve felt you here for months, but you stayed hidden in the shadows, just watching me. Oh jeez. I can’t believe this is happening,” I murmured, repeating my thoughts over and over to him.

He was unbelievable in so many ways, but he stood there visible, as plain as day. My lips trembled when I spoke, and my palms profusely sweated. I shimmied up against my pillow, trying to gain some leverage to a sitting position.

“Yes, I am the one,” he simply said, pausing, then added, “But much longer than months.”

“Who...what are you? How long.” I swallowed hard, and didn’t realize I had been holding my breath.

“For many months, years now, Brielle, I’ve been with you.” The sound of his voice was magnetic and permeated through me like a bass drum.

“Months, years.” I timidly repeated him. A hint of fear left me speechless.

My heart began to pound frantically. I couldn’t think about how many years, days, minutes or even seconds that he confessed to watching me. It felt as if a furnace was turned on, burning my flesh from the inside out. Definitely, in a good way! Beads of sweat glistened on my brow.

“It’s okay, Brielle.” He reassured me.

As we spoke he inched closer and closer to me.

“You know my name—of course you do, you have been stalking me. But, who are you?” I bemused, tilting my head to one side.

“You summoned me here...don’t you recognize me?” He seemingly teased me.

“Your voice...I know your
voice
,” I said in a raspy tone, almost out of breath. I closed my eyes. Yes, I did know his voice, how could I forget!

My memory reeled back to the night on the balcony, the night I spied on my neighbors. A fleeting heat of embarrassment gushed through me. I certainly didn’t want to bring up that night. But, I knew...he was also the company I’d been feeling, and watching me, constantly. This gorgeous entity before me and the ambiguous voice from the balcony were definitely one in the same.

His eyes continued to adore me as I reflected. The many signs of his constant presence replayed in my mind, he was the one that had caused the spine-tingling chills, and the things that went bump in the night. All results of him lurking around.

I wrinkled up my nose, bit my bottom lip, and flashed my eyes upward and nodded to him, confirming that everything was beginning to make sense.

He mused, in regards to my revelation of him. “I am pleased you remember.”

“How could I not—” My words caught in my throat. He was controlling the conversation as he did the night on the staircase. I was silent for a long moment, absorbing his voice. I needed to reorganize my scattered thoughts. I was flustered and impassioned all at once by the sound of his husky voice and hypnotic energy swarming between us.

“You—I am confused, you took the books, and left me flowers. Right?” I asked, collecting all my thoughts. He nodded. “Why did you stay hidden? Why didn’t you tell me where you went? I was worried about you. Wait. I guess if you’re my secret admirer you didn’t go anywhere because you are also the gho—” I paused. Was he really the ghost too that I’d been feeling? But the cookies, a ghost can’t eat. At least I didn’t think so—fuck, maybe they could. It was time to ask some questions—more questions. “What are these years that you speak of?” I asked formally, trying to quiet my adrenaline, so that I could carry on a conversation.

“I am the one who holds you at night, when you fear to fall asleep alone. I’ve been waiting for so long to be with you. May I touch your hand, now that you have seen me?” he requested, with a hint of respectful reservation. His eyes strayed toward my breasts, then to my hand. My chest rising and falling. I inhaled deeply in long shuddered sighs of fearful excitement.

“Can you touch me? Uh...I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure out who—,” I paused. “Never mind,” I said. I almost asked him if he was my childhood invisible friend. This man—presence, or whoever he was—was absolutely breathtaking. There was no way I was going to spoil things by bringing up anyone from my past, including Storm, at least not at the moment. There would be plenty time for picking his brain later.

I reached out to touch him, but before I could make contact with him I began to tremble.

He took my hand in his and kissed it, dragging his lips along my arm and back around to my wrist. A quiet breath shuddered through him as he inhaled my scent. I could not pull away when he leaned in to kiss my forehead. His lips were moist and tender, coursing his energy through my veins.

Oh Lord, my body felt drunken and languid under his spell.

I couldn’t speak or resist his powerful seduction. The concept of what, or who he was escaped me. Without explanation, I craved his touch, his lips and his body. His forthrightness and appeal possessed me on all levels, emotionally, physically and spiritually. I could not deny him; it would have been like turning from life itself. I drew in a cleansing lungful of air, in my mind I begged him silently:
Yes, touch me.

My nipples instantaneously strained against the flimsy fabric of my gown in anticipation of his touch. I desired him to partake in all that he wanted of me. I closed my eyes.

I felt as if I would faint when his fingers made contact with my skin. He had heard my silent invitation and softly feathered his fingertips along the curve of my shoulder, then across my collarbone and down between the center of my breasts. His skin was warm, but blanched of color, as if he hadn’t been touched by the sunlight for years.

He enveloped all of me like threads of organic silk, pulling me so close that our breaths met first. I nuzzled my face into his chest and inhaled deeply. I could trace the scent of clean rain infused into his damp shirt. In a flash, he devoured my lips with his. His taste was familiar, comforting, exhilarating. It was if I had known him before.

My senses suffused with the aroma of his pheromones mixing with mine. His succulent, mellow lips traveled downward, peppering my silky breasts, then across my smooth belly bestowing his salutation through my sheer lingerie. His eyes worshiped my porcelain flesh, as he veered the hemline of my slip upward, caressing his fingertips along my thighs. I gingerly struggled to sit upright.

I always had a difficult time giving way to being the recipient of selfish pleasure. I wanted to reciprocate by touching all of him.

He gently pressed back on my shoulders, gesturing that I surrender. I willingly complied. His fingers looped my wrist and tugged them beneath my hips. He easily made me fall into submission. I reclined back, allowing him to explore every inch of me. My breath exited in shallow, exciting wisps.

I was not wearing any panties, and he had an obvious intent on bringing me pleasure in the way that I loved best. As my fingers ran through his wild long hair, I murmured with approval beneath his tantalizing touches.

Besides the storm outside, there was only the sound of our breathing, and mine was quickening as I blossomed to his probing fingers, soft lips and the firm tip of his tongue, making contact in all the right places.

His voice became like the roaring thunder, melding with mine, as if nature was inside of me. Inside of us. He was the lightning bolt moving through me, burning me through and through. Striking, teasing, loving every bit of my sex. I gripped, my body arching out intense movements, tightening every muscle to the core of me. I was no longer grounded. I felt divided, coming apart, on the verge of breaking, when he slid his tongue, departing from inside of me. The absence of his magic mouth was nearly unbearable. I needed him.

I felt the stubble of his facial hair bristle against my supple thighs. His lips worshipped me, a man—an entity and a source without a name that I could put to it. He clearly adored my unyielding flesh.

I heard myself panting and the sound of the rainstorm was receding as the weather cleared. This was alarming to me. His manifestation came with the storm; I needed him—to stay all night with me. Did he belong to the storm? Would he leave with it?

I moaned beneath his touch. I tried not to writhe my hips, fearing that if I moved too much, this gorgeous man would evaporate along with the storm and that I would be left behind without him. He was such a beautiful creature in the sight of the night.

“Please!” I cried out. As he buried his head between my thighs and made me beg for all of him.

I knotted my fingers into his hair, to keep him my prisoner.

I whispered, “Please, I need you inside me,” a plea so soft that I was afraid he wouldn’t hear.

His eyes flashed on mine. They were urgent as if our time was short; indeed, the end of night neared. I wondered if he had the power to stop the night from colliding into the day. I begged him without words for him to take all of me. Time was short.

As I arched my body upward towards him, he quickly divested himself of his clothes and slid his nakedness beneath the sheet next to me. My hands were small against his sculpted chest. His breath was ragged and warm, which surprised me for an entity—to be warm. I had not expected that. So, he was not dead? Or could ghosts be warm? Was he a real man, an intruder of the night? Who, or what he was, escaped my thoughts.

Inside of me, his hard smooth length was every
inch
as lovely and touched all corners of me.

Pleasure upon pleasure coursed through my veins and throughout every part of me, tingling even the tips of my fingers. I coiled with tension, clenching my muscles even tighter around him. The pressure of wanton release built deep inside of me, scattering heady energy to all of my limbs. I felt drunk, and uninhibited moans poured from my lips and tears welled in my eyes. I gasped for oxygen as he took me higher and higher and I rode the crest of a living ocean that was he. No, not him
!
Us.