Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
“What? I didn’t say I was—”
“It wasn’t always like this. Before I always had Brant at my side.” It hurts to talk about him, but it’s not the soul-wrenching pain that first came to me with every memory. It’s softened into something that aches, but better to ache than to feel nothing at all. “I think you would have liked him. Everyone did. He was bright and shining and brought joy into every room he walked into.”
Catalina watches me closely, something strange on her face. “I’m sorry you lost him.”
I am, too, but that’s not the point I’m trying to make. “I don’t know how to be around others anymore. Not like he did. I’m too abrupt, too cold. It makes people uncomfortable.” A compounded loss, though it took longer for this one to settle in. I didn’t think I liked people, but I miss spending time in comfortable silence with others while I watch Brant charm the room. Without that sunshine, there is only silence, which makes people jumpy. Skittish. So I stopped trying. “Honestly, it was a bit of a relief to create space, but there are times when I miss the company.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Please tell me you’re not about to say we’re alike.”
“We aren’t.” I can’t deny that our personalities seem to be polar opposites, but that core of loneliness is one I recognize on an intrinsic level. Maybe it’s what drew me to her in the first place, though I can’t be entirely sure.
“Thane,” she says slowly. “You rule a territory, but even if you’re right that everyone is holding their breath until you step down, that doesn’t change the fact Embry clearly loves the shit out of you. It’s there in every roll of zir eyes. If ze didn’t care, ze wouldn’t be so exasperated with you all the damn time.”
I have doubted so many things since Brant died, but not that. Embry has done too much for me to doubt zir love. “People care about you.”
“Do they?” She lifts a shoulder as if I can’t see her emotionally bleeding out from years’ worth of emotional wounds. “Empirical evidence says otherwise.”
“Catalina.” I wait for her to look at me. “I care about you.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t even like me. I’m loud and obnoxious and too chaotic for your nice, orderly life. You are counting down the years until you can get rid of me.”
“Catalina.” I move closer and take her face in my hands. She refuses to look at me for several beats, but I’m content to wait her out. When she finally lifts her gaze to mine, I repeat, “I care about you.”
“Thane . . .”
She sounds like she’s begging, but I can’t begin to guess for what. For me to stop saying it? For me to say it more? Since I don’t know, I do the only thing that I know she will accept. I kiss her. There’s a force drawing us together that’s stronger than gravity, and I am heartily tired of resisting it. I don’t understand this thing growing between us, but I want it.
I want her.
14
CATALINA
I have thought about kissing Thane more times than I’ll ever admit in the past few weeks. Almost as much as I’ve thought about his tentacles. His mouth. His mystery cock. The reality so far surpasses my fantasies that I don’t know how to deal with it.
He holds my face between his big hands, cradling me as if I’m precious and he’s afraid he’ll break me. It’s such a marked difference from how he’s touched me up to this point, it makes my head spin.
Or maybe that’s the taste of him on my tongue. I kiss him harder and slide my hands up his chest to his neck. It brings me in contact with his hair tentacles, and I hesitate. Is this not okay? They’re not like snakes, but I don’t know if I should be—
Thane answers my unspoken question for me, wrapping his hair tentacles around my wrists and guiding my hands to cup the back of his head. He shifts closer, wedging himself between my thighs. His larger tentacles slither up over the rock around me.
It’s cool in this cave, or whatever the proper name for it is. I don’t care. I barely feel it with the heat of Thane pressing against me. His tentacles are wet from swimming, but they’re cool, rather than cold. I shiver and take the kiss deeper.
He responds with a faint moan, and then his tentacles lift me, pulling me closer yet, until I feel encompassed by him. If I had the space to think clearly, I might actually believe he cares about me. He sure as hell kisses me like he does.
It’s not real. I’ve told him—told myself—that it doesn’t matter what the motivation for something is, because the result is the same regardless. I think the result of this will be orgasms.