He gives me a side glance, then jumps backward, away from me. “No, don’t touch me!”
“I’m… I’m sorry.” Confusion fills the void where our brief, comforting connection starts to fade. My hand remains in the air. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
He whimpers, and a lust-filled haze films his eyes. A shudder runs through his body. He pushes down on his pinky ring and grimaces. Then his gaze clears into horror. “Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I… Riven’s going to kill me.” He rakes his hands through his hair. “Fuck, the Count too.”
FOUR♀♥♂♂♂♂EVERLY
The distraught motion worries me even more. I drop my hand, realizing whatever experience we just shared isn’t going to repeat itself. “What happened? Did I hurt you?”
Harlow’s eyes soften to wells of compassion. “No, beautiful girl. You did nothing wrong.” He closes his eyes and whispers, “God, no. That was… incredible.” He shakes himself, straightens, and though I can’t see it, some sort of invisible shield wraps around him. When he opens his eyes again, his expression laces with regret and sadness. The kind of sorrow that comes from deep loss.
“We need to set some rules,” he says.
“Rules?”
“Rules.”
“Okay.” I’m confused and I sound confused and I probably look confused.
“First, no touching.”
A desperate squeak escapes my throat. “Okay, but…”
“No!” He slashes his hand through the air. “You need to listen to me, please,” he says and takes a deep breath.
“Okay.”
“Everly, under no circumstances should you touch or let anyone touch you while you’re… here.”
“Here? Where?” Does he mean inside the train?
But he’s not listening. “You’re too open, love. Too innocent. Too… light. You’re gonna be like fucking crack to any and everything out there.” He points outside the train.
I’m confused and I don’t know what he’s talking about but I do know I need him to explain so I decide to rely on a little bit of dryad magic. My brows scrunch together, and I give him my best doe-eyes.
He folds, just like everyone else does when I bust out the face of innocence.
“Explain please,” I say.
Harlow sighs and hunches his shoulders. “Everly.” His sultry tone cracks with longing. “You’re aptly named. An incubus could sink into you forever. Your energy is endless.”
An Incubus? As in sex demon? “Ah…” Does that mean he’s an incubus? I mean, I guess it would make sense—he touched me and I think I might have orgasmed. Actually, yeah, I think I did.
I don’t know what to say, but he continues.
“Second.” He straightens. “Never go anywhere without a chaperone.”
At that, my eyebrows lift. Does he think I’m underage or something? Like I’m some kid? “I haven’t had a guardian in years. I’m legal.” Just for good measure, I add, “I’m a consenting adult, according to law,” because I don’t want him to think I’m not totally on board with our shared experience. It was amazing, and I’m not going to regret it, nor am I going to forget it. Like ever.
He smirks, and the flirty Harlow that woke me up returns. “Consenting?” That smile of his is a promise of indulgence beyond my wildest dreams. “Careful what you say. I’m doing my best not to take your ‘V’ card… this exact second.”
My cheeks are on fire. I can’t even deny I’m a virgin. “How did… how did you know I’m a… a virgin?” Crap. I can’t even say the word with a straight face. How humiliating. How completely and totally humiliating.
Harlow leans in close, but I refuse to retreat. I’m not the one who set the no touching rule. He smells like my favorite jasmine flower, and his breath hits a spot behind my ear that makes my legs turn to jelly.
“What… what are you doing?” I ask.
He smiles. “You can’t hide from me anymore, Everly. I’ve been inside you. If I wanted—” Harlow shudders and snaps back. He’s biting his lower lip and pressing so hard on his pinky ring, I swear I see blood pooling around the edges of the gold inlay.
“Did you bring luggage?” He looks anywhere but at me.
The whiplash of his Jekyll and Hyde personality baffles me. “Ummm… yes.” I pull my suitcase out and stand at the ready.
He frowns at my case and waves a hand at my luggage. “Let me.”
“No, it’s fine.” I extend the handle and tilt the top to its roller form. “I’m ready.”
Harlow does an about face and starts walking out of the train. It’s the first time my head is clear enough to notice what he wears. Bad boy leather jacket, tight jeans and a white t-shirt. His sunglasses are completely unnecessary because the sky is overcast. There isn’t even a break in the clouds. No rays of glorious sunlight painting the sky with the coming sunset. The whole city feels gray. This isn’t what I expected from the evergreen fields of Arcadia. In fact, this doesn’t look like Arcadia at all.
Hmm…
“Do we have to travel far?” I start looking around. The people look and act different here. Many have a pale complexion, too pale to have seen the sun for a while. Not that that’s so bad, but they don’t give off a healthy vibe. Some passengers have a green skin tone. Others wear hoodies that shield their faces and still others walk with limps.
“We’ll be going across town.” Harlow looks back at me. “Stay close?”
It’s a question rather than a command. I would hold his hand, but he was so adamant about not touching that I smile and nod. He keeps walking as he casts guilty eyes my way. A small sense
