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Irrevocably.
Impossibly.
Hers.
Within enormous, golden-brown eyes danced a spectrum of so many colors I was instantly mystified. Tiny sparkles of blues, violets, yellows, greens … all blinking as if her eyes were the passageway to a far-off galaxy.
Captured by the phenomenon, it felt as if her essence was sucking mine into her collection of magic. Her pool of allure.
Speaking was now challenging because of her beauty, which pissed me off. The last thing I needed in my pathetic life, even if only a one-night stand, was one more person trying to control me.
My temper flared at being duped. “Who. Are. You?”
She reached up to gently push hair from my face then spoke in Spanish, “The Fallen.”
“Fallen?” What does she know of the Fallen Gods MC?
Suspecting she was fucking with my club, I was pissed. I was about to jostle her for information, but then her palm slowly drifted down my cheek, leaving a warmth that raced down my neck and sunk into my chest. It was like an arrow, straight into my heart that I wasn’t convinced existed until that very moment.
She added, “The Risen.”
As if trying to fight an administered drug, I blinked, trying to focus as unfamiliar emotions began to float through me. “Um… R-Risen from where?”
Without warning, distant impressions of sentiments started to echo within my tainted spirit. It felt like someone’s aspirations were feeding another’s until an eruption of ambitions took place. The sensation consumed me, and made me have ambitions of my own.
Compounding these overwhelming wishes was another strong need: passion.
Alive eyes locked onto my mouth while hers continued to speak. “The Banished. The Now Free One. Offer of Balance One.”
My native language sounded like scriptures when she spoke it. I sucked in a breath with a gaping mouth and didn’t shut it. I couldn’t. I’m not positive I ever took another breath. Maybe I died that night.
Maybe… I wish I would have.
Her nostrils widened before she leaned closer to me and took a sniff. “Sweet?” she asked, immensely curious about my breath laced with watermelon wine.
Stunned and confused, I didn’t move when she lifted up onto her toes to press her lips to mine. I couldn’t even manage the simple function of closing my eyes.
Instantaneously, I understood what she meant by ‘risen.’ Or at least I thought I did. I felt like I was rising from the grips of Hell with her influence … and lips on mine.
As the kiss deepened, sensually and mystically so, I kept rising, surpassing levels of consciousness, all the while struggling with the darkness that had been a part of me since my first kill.
Suddenly, I felt as though I was part of a balancing act, or on a seesaw. This woman sitting on one end of the playground toy and a dark shadow on the other. I was trapped in the middle, swaying toward whomever was winning.
The winner in that moment—Rosa’s tongue, a captivating luscious and sensitive muscle—licked mine, leaving me so bewildered it’s amazing I stayed on my feet at all. The shadow disappeared while I was incapacitated, suspended in a state of awe.
Sadly yet mercifully, her eyes closed, but the fantastic torture was far from over. She began to sway again, groaning, “Yes, sweet. Fruit.” She said the word fruit with a matching hunger to mine.
Finally, I found someone who understood my inner torture.
Her eyes, like a bolt of electricity stinging me, snapped open before she proclaimed, “And I want more.”
I did too. I wanted anything and everything she had to offer, but it was my brother who suddenly appeared, quenching her thirst.
“Yo,” he offered me a drink before he took a true gander at Rosa. “Holy shit…” He stumbled back a step, the drinks in his hands slushing and spilling.
“Sweet?” asked Rosa eagerly, eyeing the juice like a seagull does a leftover piece of bread on a beach.
I snatched both beverages from my brother. “Yep! Sweet!” No way was he going to reap the pleasures I was desperate for. I handed her a cup. “Sweet, for you.” Then I took a long swig of the other drink to relieve my touch of crazy.
