A Howl In The Night by Lorelei Sutton (life books to read .txt) 📕

“You,” I whisper, staring into his eyes. It is as if the logical part of my brain has taken the backseat, watching the events unfold with a mixture of amusement and horror.

“What?” His eyes widen, and his dwindling hand jerks back into the air. I catch his hand in my own, feeling like a completely different person and scolding myself for my audacity.

“I don’t know why,” I whisper, feeling the warmth of his hand, hoping my endeavors aren’t a little over the top. “But I want you, Xavier.”

I grabbed his shoulder and jerked myself towards him, as if afraid of his imminent answer. The first thing I capture is his lips, moving so naturally it feels like déjà vu. Why is it that I feel like this has happened before?

I taste his lips, the salty sweet warmth spreading throughout my body in ways that are so familiar, yet so new, exciting, and intoxicating. I am drowning in the mind-numbing sensations I am feeling, greedy for more and more of this guilty pleasure. Suspended in time, I can’t help the wants from flowing, the desires from taking control over my body. There’s no stopping it now. I smile inwardly as I realize I just embarked on the pathway to my doom.

And then he began to respond.

His hands touch my shoulders gently, but the intensity of the kiss magnifies several times over. I can taste the tangy flavor of the blue fruit as his tongue enters my mouth, amplifying the sensations coursing through my mind and soul. I never want this moment to end. If I’m an alcoholic, this man must be the best tasting wine in the whole world. Which probably, now that we are here, isn’t saying too much.

I admire my obnoxious ability to crack stupid jokes to myself in the middle of the most intriguing, frightening, and invigorating instant of my life.

After what seems like only seconds, but in fact stretched much further than that, my hand subconsciously reaches out to grasp at his chest. As if I had suddenly stepped on a landmine, everything just suddenly stops.

Aware that my lips were now touching a statue, I withdraw and look him in the eye questioningly. A fathomless expression is decorating his handsome features, his eyes cloudy. He doesn’t return my gaze, but quickly turns on his side after scooting away from me. I can sense his heavy breathing, but all I feel is confusion and the pain of his rejection.

What just happened?

I quietly laid my head against the knapsack, moving as slowly as possible, struck by the events that had just occurred. My eyes close, but the true darkness does nothing to ease this burning pain. I can’t think, nor can I hardly move or feel, blinded by the utter defeat I had just experienced. Not only was I absolutely humiliated, but more importantly, this sweet taste has left me starving.

Starving for what can now be comfortably called my greatest and most pitiable weakness.

My eyes open quickly, and I survey my surroundings. The t-shirts from the night before are scattered across the cave, the fire only consisting of cold ashes. From what I can tell, the sky is still full of low-lying fog and heavy mist, the rain having retreated far into the horizon. I can't really see the sun, if there even is one in this world, but only the gray darkness.

With grace that I didn't know I had, I slowly edge to my feet and pad over to the mass of clothes to my side, careful to not jerk the rope binding my ankle. Chills take hold of my body, and I shiver as the wind brushes against my neck. My clothes still feel pretty wet, though not quite as soaked as last night. I pick up my long, flowing shirt and ring it out, getting rid of the excess water, and tie it around my waist as a makeshift skirt. There is no way I am putting those soaked pants on, especially with this stupid rope to mess things up.

Xavier shifts in his sleep, scaring me as I hear the disruption in his breathing. I beg him inwardly to not wake up. Preferably, never. I don't want to have to face him ever again.

My hands still burn from the shame of last night, and I don't want to have to think about that event, or even him. Everything is all too firmly embedded in my thoughts, displayed in crystal clear definition in my mind. I would do anything to get a delete button in my mind, to wipe these away from my brain forever. Anything to get rid of that burning kiss.

I want to say I've forgotten it already. And maybe if I just want it enough...

His breathing steadies, causing me to sigh in relief. The next question that comes to my mind is how to get out of my current situation. Being tied to this guy makes me sick and I can't deal with it any longer.

I scan the room, and my gaze lands on my makeshift pillow right next to Xavier's head. A lightbulb goes off in my head as I remember Xavier shuffling through the knapsack last night. Surely there has to be some sort of knife or sharp object in that mystery bag of his.

But it's so close to him, I don't know if I can get it without waking him up. Is that a risk I really want to take?

I lean against the wall, feeling both the swirling mist and the aches in my stomach. If nothing else, I will at least get a good breakfast out of this challenge…either of the rope I'll end up chewing off or that weird fruit in his backpack.

It is really strange how I end up losing all my newfound poise at the prospect of seeing his stupid green eyes again. Practically stumbling over to his side, I lean against the wall to avoid tripping over the rope. A sudden, intense drumming erupts in the cave, reverberating around the walls. It takes me a moment to look down and realize that the unnerving sound is coming from my own chest.

There's no way he can't hear this thunderous, embarrassing heartbeat. I crouch down and survey his back, watching initially for his breathing and then inevitably falling into a trance over his sparkling blue hair. I don't understand how this idiot can have such glossy, shiny hair when it’s so dark in here that I can barely make out anything. We haven't even bathed yet, so how his hair doesn’t look oily is just beyond me. Speaking of bathing...

I sniff my underarms, scrunching my nose in disgust as the slight odor is magnified through my overly sensitive nose. A good, long bath should be at the top of my to-do list.

I almost forget why I am even by his side, but a quick kick to the head—mentally—knocks me out of my daze. Knife. I need something sharp, and something tasty.

Turning away from him, I get on my knees to shuffle through the knapsack. The first thing I see is a wallet, accompanied by sunglasses, disgusting socks, and a dingy blanket. A lot of junk—playing cards, pens, and a clean brush. I stare at the brush for a minute, and then take it in my hand. I might use this.

A tiny fruit sits at the bottom of all the mess, and I snatch it greedily. I try to justify taking it to myself, blinded by hunger. It's not stealing, it's just borrowing. Without the giving back part.

Disappointingly, I don't see anything that could possibly break these bonds. There's some nail clippers, but they look like the baby version or something. They don't look like they could cut any decently sized nails, much less ropes.

A muffled scream escapes me as an arm swings over my shoulders, pulling me down to the floor. My legs become tangled with the ropes and Xavier's legs, and I feel a pulsating warmth coming from his body. My eyes are covered by his hand, and I am tugged against his chest. I am still in a state of shock at this point.

The terrifying sound of his breathing as it permeates my ear jerks me into high gear, and I push him away with all my strength. To my surprise, his head snaps back and his grip loosens, allowing me to crawl as far as I can manage away from him. I cast a glance at him, and am shocked to see his eyes slowly opening and blinking furiously in the process. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was just now waking up.

"Why'd you kick me...?" He asks while rubbing his eyes, and my fears are confirmed.

I don't answer him, focusing on the rope. Placing my hands on it, I forcefully pull it in two directions. I can see the rope start to give underneath the pressure.

I can feel him watching me as I rip it apart while marveling at how easy it was to do so. If I had just done that earlier, I wouldn't have had to worry about getting into his knapsack.

"Mona, what are you doing?" His voice is low, tinged with drowsiness.

I turn away while prying my half of the rope off my foot. I don't want to talk to him. Or listen to him.

"Mona..." I can sense him coming closer, and edge against the wall. The rope splits at my ankle, falling on the floor. At my current location in the alcove, there is no escape, no place for me to hide.

"Mona." He repeats himself, his arms suddenly on my shoulders. All the strength is sucked out of my body as he whirls me around. "Look at me." One of his hands cups my chin and lifts it so I am forced to meet his eyes.

As I look at him, hoping to keep calm and collected, my face grows red in a betraying manifestation of the turmoil stirring inside my body. His green eyes bore into my soul, and I imagine my appearance in response resembles a deer caught in the headlights. All I can think is that I need to get out. Get out... before I lose myself.

"What's going on?" His hand travels from my chin to my cheek, brushing down towards my neck.

The action reminds me of last night, and I jerk away with sudden ferocity. "Nothing," I mutter, looking at the ground. "Nothing is going on."

He opens his mouth to speak, but I throw the fruit in my hand at his face before he can say anything. "Just stop."

Instantly regretting the action after a brief recognition of the pain in Xavier’s features, I whirl around to face the outdoors and immediately start running. My stomach roars with need, but I am unwilling to turn and retrieve the fruit. If I turn back, I could lose everything in that stare of his. I could feel that same, indescribable desire that drives me insane.

Somehow I just know that something about him is different. Different from the rest of my harassers in this forlorn