Page 61 of Cryptic Dreams
And bloody fucking hell, time itself stands still because nothing has ever felt soright.
“Yours?” I barely croak out as she entwines our fingers and holds tight.
“Yellow. My favorite color is yellow.”
My heart is bloody thundering inside my chest but I nod at what I already know. “Yellow, like the sun.”
“Exactly.” She sighs then brings her free hand to rest on my forearm. “Yellow is the closest I’ll ever get to the sun, but to be honest—”
“You love all colors; you simply love yellow most.”
In lieu of a response, my mate nods then tries once again to completely ruin me with her surprising tactics. “How long have you been practicing kink? Or do you call it BDSM?”
I choke on nothing, positively nothing but my own tongue as Zephyr laughs and squeezes my hand.
“Are you ok?” She giggles. “Gonna survive my interrogation or do we need to stop?”
“No, no. I just… you surprised me, that’s all, love.”
“So?”
“Well… ” If I were capable of sweating, I sure as hell would be doing it right now. Christ that was not what I was expecting to followfavorite color. “Almost all of my adult life to be honest.”
I groan internally.
So much for thateternityI was so looking forward to.
I fear lying to Zephyr at this point is an impossibility, but the truth of just how deviant I really am may be enough for her to decide we aren’t a good match. Heaven knows how she’ll feel when she finds out I have two human corpses chilling in my cooler, or that I’m in the process of kicking off a bloody fucking war. Unfortunately for her, we’re a fucking perfect match but that doesn’t mean learning I’m a sadistic dom into hardcore bondage, fetishes and submission with both male and female partners won’t have my gentle breeze rejecting me before we hit the end of the sidewalk.
Why is it that whenever I make a plan that involves Zephyr, something happens to completely blow it apart?
“I’ve only been kissed once and it was by a male who made a bet.”
I stop dead in my tracks over her next surprising words. “Pardon?”
She nods as she turns toward me. “Just one kiss when I was a teenager. Timothy Mueller. He did it on a dare.”
Several things run through my mind as I search her golden eyes.
How did she go from bondage to kisses?
How has she, the most beautiful, most perfect female ever created, only been kissed once? Andwhy?
And where the fuck is thisTimothy Muellerbecause I’ve half a mind to rip his spleen out through his eye socket, not only because he kissed my mate, but because he had to make a bet in order to do it.
But the variety of emotions flickering through Zephyr, the hurt and humiliation, the bitterness and slight tinge of fear, all of that is why I decide to take a different approach and shelf my primitive urges—temporarily.
With a gentle squeeze of her hand, I start walking again. “I, myself, have only ever been kissed twice in my many centuries of life.”
My mate relaxes next to me, so much so she rests her head on my shoulder and burrows further under my skin. “Yeah right.”
“I swear it. Only twice and the second was, hmm, about six hundred years ago now.”
“I have a hard time believing that, but thank you for trying to make me feel better.”
“I speak only the truth, love. And surely it would surprise you to know… ” The back of my neck tingles briefly, the shorn hair at the nape standing on end. I lift my head slowly, my eyes scanning our surroundings instinctively as a feeling I haven’t experienced in some time begins to take root.
That isnota good feeling.
