“Yes, he did tell me that.”
For the next two hours, she and the women chitchatted over this and that while preparing the food. Melony enjoyed talking with the women, but most of the time her thoughts kept returning to the kiss she’d shared with Lorent, and how she wanted to kiss him again—how she wanted him to kiss her.
Later that night, back at her cabin, she fed Puss and took a hot shower before falling into a deep sleep.
“What are you doing, Lorent?”
He was sitting on a fallen tree by the clear pool at his secret place in the woods, when Melony came up behind him. He turned, and his breath whooshed from his lungs. The sun shined behind her through the thick trees and shimmered off her smooth skin. Her pink hair was done in its normal spiky do, and she wore black jeans with a pink sweater.
The sweater looked almost as soft as she did, and he ached to run his fingers over her, ached to learn every part of her body, every erogenous zone that would elicit a breathy sigh of delight from her lush mouth. He wanted to make her as crazy for him as he was for her.
He wanted to hear his name on her lips as he made her come, wanted to hold her against him afterward and caress her until she fell asleep cuddled intimately in his embrace.
“Hi, Melony.” He patted the empty spot next to him on the log. “Come sit beside me.”
He had to keep a tight leash on his control in reality, but here in the dream, he could do as he pleased. Here in the dream, he didn’t have to be as careful, as reserved with his feelings. Only that made him feel a bit guilty because Melony had no idea how real a dream shared between mates was. He’d not told her about dreams between mates, and though it probably made him an ass, he didn’t plan to anytime soon. Here in his dreams he could be selfish and spend all the time he wanted with her without worry of repercussions.
If the dream world was all he had, the only place he could show Melony his true self, he’d have to deal with it. At least here he didn’t have to pretend he wasn’t affected by her.
Here he could spend time with her, touch her, talk to her without worrying about his control or getting his ass kicked for showing interest in her. Here his training didn’t matter.
Here only he and Melony existed.
She sat beside him, and her scent drifted to him on the gentle breeze. He breathed her deep into his lungs, and his fingers itched to touch her, but he didn’t want to rush anything.
He doubted Melony was the kind of girl who had casual sex, and he wanted to take things slow with her. Truth be told, he didn’t want casual sex either. Not with her. When he took her, it would be fierce and beautiful and forever.
“This is a lovely place, Lorent.”
“It’s my secret place. As far as I know, no one else comes here. I’ve kind of claimed it as my own.”
“Oh. I wouldn’t want to impose then.”
He caught her hand when she started to get up. “No. Don’t go. I don’t mind sharing with you.”
She smiled and sat back down, but refused to let go of his hand when he tried to pull it back. That small gesture pleased him more than he thought possible. He stroked his thumb over her palm, and she glanced at him from under her thick lashes.
“I come here when I want to think or need some space.”
She looked around carefully. “It’s certainly a perfect place for that.” She cleared her throat and stared at him.
“What?”
“I was just wondering why you are willing to share this with me when you’ve been guarded with everything else.”
He frowned. He guessed she was right. He was guarded with things, but he had a good reason to be. “I don’t have much to talk about. I came here, went through the reformation program, and that was that. As far as my past, I don’t have anything good to say about it, so why say anything at all?”
“I see. I wouldn’t mind listening if you ever wanted to talk about it.” She gave his hand another squeeze.
Then the strangest thing happened. He found he actually wanted to tell her about his past, about all the horrifying things he’d been through, witnessed, not because he wanted to lay that kind of shit on her, but because he suddenly needed to tell someone for some reason.
If she knew, would she think of him differently? Would she look upon on him as if he were an uncaring monster? He didn’t want to risk it, yet deep in his heart, he was aware that if there was ever to be a future for him and Melony, at some point he’d have to tell her everything. But that was the point. There wouldn’t be a future for them, not in the real world, not if she found out about his past.
“Believe me when I say that you definitely don’t want to hear about it.”
She reached up and tenderly stroked her fingers down his cheek. “If it has to do with you, I want to hear about it, but only when you are ready, Lorent. I don’t want to push you into anything. I never want you to feel uncomfortable with me.”
“Why do you care?” He sighed and leaned into her touch before he could stop himself from doing so.
He looked into her eyes, waiting for her answer, as she pursed her lips as if perplexed by his question. If she had any idea how that one endearing action made him crave to crush his lips against hers, she’d probably slap him. Or maybe not. After all, she had been the one to kiss him at the Learning Center.
“Why do I care? For one, you are a fellow human, er, well, you know what I mean, and secondly, I kind of like you. I will admit that you are a walking contradiction. At one turn you are telling me all about the trees and how you can cook, and the next thing I know, you’re shutting down over the simplest question.”
“You like me?” His heart thundered in his chest.
“Of course. I mean, I know we haven’t known one another for long, but I think you are a nice man. Everyone else thinks so as well, but I get the distinct impression that they are worried about you because you are so shy.”
“I’m not shy. Not really. I just like to keep to myself. I’d consider myself reserved, maybe, but not shy.”
“Okaaay. Well, that’s not a bad thing as long as it doesn’t keep you from interacting with others altogether.” She frowned for a moment. “Let me put it this way, and I have no proof of what I’m about to say. It’s pure speculation on my part. No one has told me anything about you other than you are shy and a good man. I’m going to make an assumption here, though, that maybe the others are worried because you haven’t talked to anyone about your past?”
He nodded.
“People who refuse to talk about their past obviously have things in it that they wish to forget, painful things that they’d like to keep buried. The problem with that is that sometimes the things you try so hard to push away are the things that tend to push hardest back, the things that end up eating away at you.”
She was right, and he figured he understood why she knew that. “Like how you won’t talk about your mother’s accident?”
Her eyes darkened, and he wanted to kick himself for bringing it up. “Son of a bitch.