The No Kiss Blogfest!

Welcome back (if you visited the first time) - this time to the No Kiss Blogfest! Inspired by the previous Kissing Day Blogfest, we're now totally celebrating in the "almost kiss."

I almost posted this one last time, but wanted to do an actual kiss. Now I'm glad I did that, because now I get to post this one under a more appropriate blogfest - and it's one of my favorite parts of this particular WIP, Illusion's Trick.

Ladies, meet Lucan.

I exhaled a long breath. Relax. Nothing weird will happen this time. I closed my eyes and stood motionless beneath the hot shower spray.

As soon as I’d finished the thought, a pair of hands slipped around my waist.

I shrieked and stumbled around, pulling away and banging my shin into the faucet as I spun around to slam my back into the tile wall. He was here. In my shower. Standing quietly in the water and…ho…my God…he was naked.

He smiled, that slow, know-everything-about-me smile. “Hello again, Gabrielle.”

“Wha,” was all I could get out, a noise between a question and a shout.

He was…impressive. Lean with a musculature that spoke of strength and latent power like one of the mixed martial arts fighters I always watched on TV. A jagged, violent-looking scar ran around his side, slicing down from his ribs to curve over and end at his abdomen. Another cut down the inside of his right arm, from elbow to wrist, and another, thinner and more faded scar scored over his left bicep. I wondered what he’d done to receive them. A bit of mirth found its way into his smirk. At my expense, no doubt.

I straightened. I was naked, he was naked, but I refused to cower against the wall in my own shower. I couldn’t let myself feel like the only vulnerable one when we both wore the same thing—nothing.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, trying to look at his face and not the rest of him.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t wanted me here,” he said, cocking his head ever so slightly.

The non-stranger, stranger in the shower scenario. God damn it. I managed to hold back the maniacal grin that threatened to appear. How could I have forgotten that one?

“I can’t just accept a strange man in my shower like this,” I said. Quite a pathetic statement, actually. While in my dreams it was partially true, I always acquiesced in the end. Now that it had become a lot more real, I wasn’t so sure it was a good idea.

“I’m not sure you have much choice at this point,” he said, watching me intently. What a gentleman—he had me naked and yet he kept his gaze on my face. An improvement for him, I decided.

“Or,” he continued, “I could wait until you’re finished and be the one to approach you then.”

“What? I don’t have any other shower fantasies.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he said. “I know for years you stepped out of here only to pretend you’ve stepped out of the rain onto the threshold of a strange house.”

I gaped at him. By God, he was right. I meant to speak, but only made a sort of choking sound. This guy knew everything! Even I’d forgotten that one!

“Damn,” I muttered, stuck between irritated and impressed. I shifted more toward irritated since I was starting to get cold. His highness had scared me into the corner and now took up most of the water. I began inching my way along the edge of the shower back into the spray.

“Well,” I said, trying to figure out how to convince him to move, “you could. It would be more polite.” Because then I’d at least have a towel.

Suddenly his hands slapped the tile on either side of me, trapping me against the wall. He leaned forward.

“I like this one better.”

His face was inches from mine and…was he moving closer? Shit. Not again. I tried to conjure up last night’s conversation, his smug grin, his underhanded comment about taking me without my immediate permission. It wasn’t working.

“I hate you,” I said, a lame attempt to rile him up enough to get him to back off. His lips brushed my temple.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t lie to me,” he whispered.

In my mind I cursed to no end. I thought I’d managed to get over falling to pieces around him, but here I was, feeling weak and losing all resolve just like before. He did nothing more than trace the contours of my face with his mouth, lying in wait for some small signal from me to do more. I wanted to reach out and dig my nails into his back and drag him closer, wanted to feel him against me, to kiss him just to know what he tasted like. Instead, I kept my hands at my sides and scratched the tile, scraping a thin film of soap scum under my fingernails.

Mmm, tasty. This photo is property of Mercuralis. For heaven's sakes, if you want to see some super sweet art, check her out!