Outcast (Supernaturals Book 2) by Jennifer Reynolds

Author:Jennifer Reynolds [Reynolds, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2016-05-28T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18 ~ Going Home

~~~Leigh~~~

I woke the next afternoon tired, achy, and beyond pissed off. Someone had purposefully blown up my place of employment, my best friend’s livelihood, her passion. She swore to me the night before that that didn’t matter. All she cared about was that I was all right. Anyone else would say this was my fault since I was the obvious target, but she ordered me not to blame myself. To make matters worse, my car was too damaged to repair.

The bed I woke up in was too comfortable to leave, but the empty space beside me told me that Ryan was already up, so I made myself rise. My bladder was begging me to empty it anyway.

After relieving myself, I disrobed and stood in front of the mirror, examining myself. Light bruises and healing scratches covered my body. I’d always taken for granted my body’s ability to heal quickly. That morning I was thankful for it and a bit surprised by it. What I had suffered through the night before was bad, and I knew some things would have begun to heal while I slept, but not that quickly. Examining the worst of my cuts and seeing how old the marks looked, I wondered if I had slept longer than I thought.

“Ryan,” I called as I left the bathroom in my bra and panties. With any other guy, I would have put on a t-shirt, not wanting him to see all of my fat on display that way, but with Ryan, I wanted to be naked because he took so much pleasure in seeing me that way.

“I’m in the kitchen,” he called back.

“How long did I sleep?” I asked, coming to a stop in the kitchen doorway to watch him cook scrambled eggs and bacon.

“About nine hours. Why?” he asked, turning to me. He nearly dropped the bacon he had forked out of the pan onto the floor at the sight of my near nakedness. He had seen me in less, but the sight of me seems to always stun and arouse him.

“Oh.” Knowing it would take him awhile to find his words, I turned to go back to the bathroom for a shower when he stopped me by calling my name.

“Yeah,” I said, walking fully into the kitchen. He put the bacon on a plate and circled me. “Is something wrong?” I asked, growing worried by his look.

“Have you seen yourself?”

“I have. Why?”

“Do you remember what you looked like this morning when we got home?”

“I do.” He saw it too. My healing wasn’t normal, even for me. I had no idea how to explain it.

He reached up and brushed his fingers across a cut I had across my back. His touch caused goose bumps to sprout along my skin. I had the deep urge to bend over, drop my panties, and beg him to take me. My desire shifted to apprehension at his next words.

“These are almost healed. How…” Then he leaned into me to the point that his nose touched the skin right behind my ear, and he inhaled deeply.

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