Chapter Ten

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Everette

Lowering a sleeping Farah onto a couch, I step back and perch on the edge of the coffee table next to her. I shouldn't have brought her here. It might not have been my wisest decision but I can't bring myself to regret it.

I want her here.

I lose track of time as I wait for her to wake up. Wrapped in a blanket, she curls up into the foetal position. I watch her closely, taking in every single minute change in expression.

My eyes notice more than any human's would but still I feel wary that I might miss something. I see Farah's breathing shallow and her eyes flicker beneath her lids as she dreams.

Human eyes would never catch that. I smirk to myself.

I notice the slight pink tinge of her cheeks and the darkness of her lashes.

Rubbing the back of my neck with my hand, I close my eyes for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts. I breathe in deeply even though I don't need the oxygen rich air that fills my lungs, before standing to my feet.

Crossing the room, I make my way towards the desk that sits directly in front of the large bay window. I take a seat behind the desk and power on my laptop, forcing myself not to look back at the sleeping girl on the couch.


Farah

I wake with a start, sitting up abruptly. It's dark and I can hear the gentle sound of fingers clicking on a keyboard. Looking around, I search for the source of the sound, my eyes finally settling on Everette – I think it's him – barely visible in the glow of a computer screen.

"Everette?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

He looks up, his eyes expressing his surprise at finding me awake. I stay still, suddenly nervous, as he approaches me. I don't know what I expect to happen that my heart is racing so fast.

He sits on the edge of the coffee table opposite me and leans forward, so close that I can smell his own personal scent in the air between us, an earthy mixture of sandalwood and coffee.

I smile at him, not that I know why, waiting impatiently for him to do something. I want him to touch me or kiss me or something. Anything at all.

But he doesn't move. Instead he just sits there, his legs spread apart, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting in one open palm.

I watch him eagerly, anticipating his next move, fearful that it may never come.

"You should have slept longer," he tells me, his voice carrying a lilt that I hadn't expected. The softness of his tone and the almost boyish grin on his face confuses me.

Then he's leaning forward, far slower than I'd like, until his lips are only centimetres away from mine. I feel compelled to close the small space, lifting my lips to meet his.

The second our lips touch, I feel electric tingles move through my lips and across my skin. I can't stay still. I need to touch him.

I practically lunge myself into his lap, deepening the kiss, my tongue darting into his mouth.

He chuckles lightly as he brings his hands to my shoulders, pulling me back slightly.

"Not yet, Farah," he tells me firmly, pushing me back towards the couch.

"But..." I begin to grumble but he just shakes his head as he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.


Everette

I don't know why I'm pushing her away when I finally have her exactly where I want her. She's far past the point of no return. There's no escaping now that I've brought her to my house.

And yet, I feel like I have to give her a choice.

Why I don't know. She's my prey and as prey, her opinion is pretty much null and void.

I'm not going to let her go. I will bite her. There's no escaping that now. But I'll let her pick between a quick and slow death.

I want to keep her alive as long as possible so that I can truly relish in the taste of her blood, but more than that I want to explore the other feelings that are bothering me. I want to understand why I feel so insistent that she shouldn't die, why the idea of her cold corpse in my arms is so heart wrenching.

I consider explaining it all to her, but I'm sure that will just scare her and waste precious time.

"What would you say if I told you the monsters in your book are real?" I ask her gently.

She meets my eye with more confidence than she should in this situation. Licking her lower lip, she inches towards me, moving into my personal space. There's a heat in her eyes that suggests she's not actually listening to me, too focused on her own lust. Although there is also something there that makes me question if she knows what I desire too.

I wait for her to answer but she never does and quickly I grow impatient.

"Farah, are you listening?" I ask her almost irritably.

The adorable smile that curls her lips in the next second cools my temper almost instantly. In one fluid motion, I lift her into the air, and move so that I am now sat where seconds ago she was sitting, and then lower her back onto my lap, her legs on either side of me.

Her work skirt rides up her thighs ever so slightly and I have to pause for a second, trying to ignore the way my body responds to having her so close, my trousers growing uncomfortable.

If the sudden change in position surprises her, she never lets on, as her gaze meets mine once more, her eyes moving quickly from my eyes to my lips and back again.

She doesn't say anything. She doesn't need to. I know what she wants, what she needs. And I don't have the energy to resist her anymore.

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