Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Then I reached his mouth.
The right side of his bottom lip was swollen and split where Gonzales’s fist had smashed into it. For a moment the thought of the big Drake hitting Avery—my Avery—made the rage rise in me. I swallowed it down with some difficulty. There was no time for anger now—this was the time for healing…for showing Avery how I felt about him…even though I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt myself.
I hesitated, my lips hovering over the wounded spot, wanting badly to go on but not sure if I should.
“Saint,” he murmured hoarsely. “You…you don’t have to if…if you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” I told him. “I want to so much, mi Corazon…”
I didn’t know where the words came from but they felt right. And then I was pressing my mouth to his, breathing softly against the split lip and then kissing it gently—just to be sure it healed correctly, of course.
Avery shifted restlessly, as though he wasn’t sure what to do. I pulled back and looked into his eyes. He was so close and his lips had been so soft, though I had only kissed the bottom one.
“Saint…” he breathed. “I…I don’t know if…”
“If you’re healed?” I murmured, looking at his lush bottom lip again. “I am not quite certain myself. Should I do it again, just to be sure?”
“If…if you want to.” His eyes were beautiful and filled with uncertainty.
“I want to,” I told him, and kissed him again, pressing my mouth to the place he had been hurt as I cupped his face in my hands. I held him as though he was something rare and precious and perfect…something only for me…
At last, though, I felt Avery’s hands on my chest and he was pushing me gently away.
“Saint,” he whispered, nearly panting. “Saint, no. You have to stop.”
“Why should I stop, mi Corazon?” I murmured.
“You’re not the one doing this—it’s your Drake,” he said.
I shook my head.
“He sleeps—for now.”
His eyes widened.
“Really?”
I nodded.
“I am using his power to heal you, but I am the one doing the healing.” I almost said, I am the one kissing you, but the words wouldn’t quite leave my lips. After all, I had only kissed him to heal him. Not for any other reason, right?
“Well…we should still stop,” he murmured, though I didn’t think he really wanted to. He touched his bottom lip lightly, where I had kissed him. “I’m healed now and you might hate yourself for this in the morning.”
I frowned.
“Why would I hate myself for healing you?”
“Well…I mean, you keep saying that you’re not a, uh, a man-lover,” he said hesitantly.
I shook my head.
“I’m not. But you’re my friend, Avery.” I caressed his now-healed cheek lightly with my fingers, liking the feel of his skin, the warmth of his body, so close to mine. “Why should I not heal my friend?”
“Oh, uh…” A look of confusion crossed his face and his cheeks went red and warm under my fingertips. “All right. Well, I’m glad that we’re friends again, but we should, er, probably go back to bed now. Get some sleep, you know?”
He moved to get up and go back to his own bed and part of me wanted to ask him to stay. Not to do anything sexual…anything unnatural. I just wanted to hold him against me, to feel his warmth and his skin against mine. It had been so long since anyone had touched me, since I had touched anyone in return. I just didn’t want the physical contact to end.
But it seemed that maybe I had taken things too far, because Avery was eyeing me warily, as though uncertain of what I might do next.
“Goodnight, Avery,” I said to him, as he slid back into his own bed. “Thank you for hearing my story and not…not hating me.”
“Uh…thank you for not hating me either,” he said. “And…for healing me.” His cheeks got red again when he said that and I felt my heart beat faster.
“I will heal you anytime you want me to,” I told him softly. “I enjoyed it very much.”
“I…I did, too,” he whispered. “Um, goodnight, roomie.”
“Goodnight…” The words, mi Corazon danced on the tip of my tongue, but in the end I swallowed them. They weren’t the right words to use for a friend—especially a male friend, I was certain. I didn’t know, exactly, how they had slipped out before. It was an impulse—perhaps some buried urge that rose from my sleeping Drake to me. But for whatever the reason, I didn’t say them again.
“Goodnight…roomie,” I said, instead, imitating his own friendly nickname for me.
Avery murmured goodnight again and then I turned over on my side and closed my eyes. But even though my Drake was silent except for a few dreaming murmurs, sleep was a long time coming.
11
AVERY
I lay there in the dark, not sure what the hell was going on. I kept feeling Saint’s mouth on me—on my palms…kissing so gently around my wounded eye…my cheek…my lips…