But then I remember how Nok reacted to Loki and I return the hug with more fervor and give him my most seductive smile.
“How have you been?” I ask, keeping my hand on his arm when we part.
His familiar eyes, so warm and lacking the harshness that rest around Nok’s, scan my face pleasantly. “Good. You didn’t respond to my texts.”
“I didn’t get any texts.”
He shrugs, a confused frown on his face. “I sent two on Monday. They said read.”
I click my tongue and glance at Nok who is staring at my hand on Nash’s arm. He doesn’t like it. I can tell. I also have a feeling he has something to do with the missing texts seeing as I was with him that day.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” Nash asks and offers me his arm. “I’ll introduce you to my grandmother. She’s been eager to meet you.”
“Why?”
“I’ll take her,” Nok insists. “She’s my guest.”
Oh, and suddenly I’m his guest again?
“It’s fine, Nok. Your brother is better company anyway.” I point to his group of friends that he usually hangs with on the track. “Go be with them. Tell Vienna I said hi.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw, I see it before I turn to his father and thank him for inviting me. He nods and tells me to enjoy myself before moving on to someone else.
“Nokosi!” Vienna yells over the chatter of voices and the crackling fire.
“Don’t worry, baby brother, I’ve got her,” Nash assures him and hooks an arm around my neck.
I wind my hand around his waist and smugly grin at Nok. I know it’s driving him wild. I love that too.
They stare at each other, unblinking, both a level height though Nok has more brawn than Nash, they’re both so amazingly toned I have to wonder who would win in a contest of strength.
“Fight, fight, fight,” I chant playfully and both glare at me.
Their glaring contest is broken when somebody moves towards us, her frame hunched. Two women flank her sides, holding each of her arms as she walks.
“Elisi.” Nok steps forward to pay respects to his grandmother who is wearing the most magnificent crown of feathers and beads on her head, wisps of white hair peek out around it.
He leans in to kiss her cheeks and then so does Nash, releasing me first of course.
When she looks at me with eyes so blue they look almost fully white, I feel a chill run down my body.
“This is our grandmother,” Nash explains. “Elisi, this is our friend Lilith.”
Her eyes scan my face but I’m not sure if she’s actually seeing me. Could she be blind? I don’t want to insult her by asking. “Come to me, child. Allow me to hold your hand.”
I glance at Nok, unsure, but he gives me an encouraging nod. Stepping forward, I place my cold hand in her warm, satin soft yet wrinkly one and she curls her other hand over the top. I’ve never been one to believe in magic or spirits or anything of the sort, but when her eyes join mine, I feel as though she can see into my soul. Her grip tightens, her eyes lock me in place, and I can’t move, or even blink. I can’t look away. It’s as though I’ve been cemented to this very spot and everything around me loses focus. I can’t hear anything but the sound of my breath in my ears and my heartbeat in my throat.
It’s disconcerting, disorienting…
“You poor child,” the old lady whispers. “So much grief. So much death.”
Like a plug in my mind is slowly lifting, water spills up from a drain that I had locked tight, and my eyes fill with tears. Real tears.
“No,” I beg, trying to pull my hand free as feelings I’ve never allowed myself to feel suddenly bombard me like a tsunami of fire and ice.
“So much confliction. So much pain.” She pulls me closer, her strength deceiving for her age and hunched stature. Her hand that covered mine now rests over my chest, flat against my skin. “You have a good heart, let it guide you, let it be your strength, not your weakness.”
She lets me go and I stumble back into Nok’s chest and his arms wrap around me. I don’t realize I’m crying until I feel myself choke and feel the sting of tears on my cold cheeks.
The old lady walks away as though nothing just happened. Two women hold her arms to help her along.
Meanwhile I’m choking for air, trying to gather myself as an all-consuming grief blinds me to anything else. I turn in Nok’s arms that are like steel bands around my body and bury my face in his neck. My tears soak his skin, they soak mine too. My mascara is likely now in dark rings around my eyes.
Nokosi lifts me, swinging my legs up with his arm. He walks with me, not speaking, not stopping. He just goes and I’m too weak to breathe or protest. I just hold him, seeking his comfort in a way I’ve never sought comfort from anybody but my sister.
I’m a mess and I should be embarrassed but I can’t get past this overwhelming sorrow I suddenly feel. As though somebody is in my head, screaming their pain so loudly it’s all I know now. I feel as though I’ll never be happy again. I don’t want to feel this way. I need to let it go but I can’t release it. It’s tangled like thorny vines around my spirit. I don’t know why it’s there or how, but it hurts. It feels physically painful.
I hear a door open and shut and stop crying when the noises from outside no longer sound, and the cold air becomes warm.
He doesn’t put me down until we’re through another door and a bright light is shining overhead.
As soon as my feet touch the ground, Nokosi and I look at each other. My chest is still tingling with this lingering mourning I just can’t seem to combat and right now all I can think of is one thing to get my mind off this sudden pain.
I look at myself in the mirror, my eyes are swollen, my lips too, and my cheeks are flushed with pink.
I’ve not looked this human in such a long time. I don’t feel ugly or like I should apologize. In fact, I want to feel more human. I don’t want this to stop.
I turn to face the man who brought me to this place and grab his collar before yanking him to me. His lips collide with mine, and at first, they’re unresponsive, but he soon changes that when I lick the seam of his lips. Greeting my tongue with his own, he cups the back of my head, groaning and holding me tightly as my hand works on the button of his jeans.
I don’t care what I’m here for. I don’t care what I’m supposed to be doing. I want him. I need him.
I need to feel human. I need to feel pleasure and lust, and orgasms. I want to feel it all.
“Harder,” I beg and he bites my lip, making it burn with delicious pain. The kind of pain I want and need.
My hands tug on his jeans and push them over his ass, and it has to be said as I grab it with both hands, it’s the most solid, soft, incredible ass I have ever held. I squeeze as his hot length presses between us and he yanks my denim skirt up my hips enough to pull down my thong and back me into the wall between the sink and toilet. The tiles are cold through my sweater, but it only adds to all the sensations.
He continues kissing me, standing with his feet on either side of mine so his legs are parted and mine are shut tight.
I gasp when he pushes his solid cock between the apex of my thighs. The mushroom head parts my slick lips and rubs against my swollen clit.