Crimson Midnight (A New Adult Dark Urban Fantasy Series) (The Crimson Series Book 1) (12 page)

And then there was silence.

11.

INFATUATIONS

Brandon Sonnet hadn’t seen Raven
Stonewall since he’d planted a drunken kiss upon him at the Rainbow Rave. And
he was glad he hadn’t. Okay, so he wasn’t glad that he couldn’t see Raven’s
perfect face, his perfect body and perfect smile while drowning in the waves of
his perfect baritone. However, he was glad that he hadn’t had to deal with the
consequences of the kiss, the awkward questions that came with doing things
under the influence of alcohol. He didn’t quite know how he’d been able to
avoid Raven since the Rainbow Rave, especially working on reception at USL, but
he had succeeded in doing so.

Until now.

“Good morning,” that baritone
washed over him.

Brandon froze, painfully aware of
the presence at his desk. Suddenly the piece of paper on his desk that had a
memo written in short hand on it, one he had to type and circulate to all staff
at some point in the afternoon, was the most fascinating thing in the world.
Despite his growing mortification he knew he couldn’t avoid a confrontation
forever and Brandon was not a rude person. He looked up slowly. “Good morning.”

Raven smiled. “I’ve come to pick up
my list of students I’m mentoring today.”

Brandon blushed, God the man was
beautiful. “Of course…I-I-I’ll just get it…f-f-f-f-for y-y-y-y-y-you…” he
stammered and then stood up from his chair too quickly and sent a pile of
papers flying to the floor. He cursed under his breath and turned around,
crouching to retrieve them.  His face burned with heat as he felt Raven’s eyes
on him.

“Would you like some help?” Raven
asked.

“No, no, it’s okay…”

“I don’t mind.” Raven came behind
the desk, crouching down to Brandon’s level.

“T-T-Thanks…”

“What part of America are you from?” Raven asked as he scooped up some papers.

“Los Angeles.”

Raven smiled and nodded.

“It’s colder here,” said Brandon. “And I like it much better.”
Riveting conversation, Brandon.
He scolded
himself.
Oh no, he’s not going to think you’re dull is he? Stupid! Stupid!
Stu-

“If I am being out of line then I’m
sorry.” Raven cut through Brandon’s thoughts. “But I have to bring up the
Rainbow Rave…the kiss…”

Brandon froze.
CRAP! Crap, crap,
crap, crap, crap, crap, crap…

“I just want to say,” Raven
continued.

That it was awful, don’t you
dare put your nasty lips to mine again you pathetic loser…

“That you don’t need to feel bad
about it or anything. I don’t want you to feel awkward.  I don’t feel awkward.”

Go on, say it: But make sure it
doesn’t happen again…

Raven smiled. “I was very
flattered, if not a little taken back. I had no warning.”  He cocked his head
slightly. “And you are a good kisser.”

Brandon fell backwards and banged
his head on the desk, papers flying from his hands.

Raven grasped his arm helping him
to his feet. “Are you okay?”

The feel of Raven’s touch almost
made him collapse again but he steadied himself. He could feel Raven’s breath
on him, feel his body heat…

“Thank you,” Brandon said weakly.
“And I’m really sorry about the kiss.”

“You really have no need to feel
sorry.”

Brandon watched as Raven scooped up
all of the papers, put them onto the desk and went back around it. He extended
his hand. “Let’s get introduced properly. My name is Raven Stonewall.”

Brandon hesitated for a moment and
then took Raven’s hand. His skin was so soft to touch. “My name is Brandon
Sonnet.”

“Nice to meet you, Brandon.” Raven
shook his hand.

Brandon smiled, his face still hot.
“You too.”

“May I please have my list?” Raven
asked.

“Of course.” Brandon retrieved it
from a tray. “There you go.” He felt a little more at ease, still nervous, but
glad that Raven wasn’t upset by what had happened.

“Thank you. Well, I had better
start preparing for my sessions. I’m a little apprehensive about working one on
one with people.”

“You’ll be okay.”

Raven nodded. “Have a nice day.” He
turned to leave. “Maybe I’ll see you at lunch time. Please feel free to come
and sit with me. I could do with having lunch with some good company.”

Brandon’s face ignited in an
explosion of red. “Thank you.”

Raven sat in an office located on
the third floor of USL. The office was small with one desk, two chairs and a
very healthy pot plant. There was also a filing cabinet and a benign painting
of woodland on the wall.

He examined the list before him.
There were six different students, all first year Psychology, whom he would be
mentoring as part of his studies: Doug Croft, Jessica Field, Lee Phillips,
Ossian Smith, Kara French and Louise Goodman. He knew Jessica Field from
lecturing her class and he recognised all of the other names from the same
class. The first student he had an appointment with was Ossian Smith. He hadn’t
got to know all of his students yet, as some were not as prominent with asking
questions and voicing opinions in the lectures as others could be. So he
thought this would be a great opportunity to get to know some of them better.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Raven called, and the
door opened.

The man with the violet eyes
stepped into the office. Raven tensed.

“Hello.” The man smiled gesturing
to the chair beside Raven’s desk. “May I?”

Raven didn’t respond immediately.
He sniffed surreptitiously, trying to detect the scent that had accompanied
this man the last time he had encountered him. But there was no trace of it.
“Please do,” he said finally in a quiet voice.

The man, Ossian Smith, sat down on
the chair and waited with a polite smile.

Raven tried not to stare.

Ossian was stunning– there was no
other word for it. There were so many beautiful men in the world, but Ossian
transcended that beauty, taking it to a whole new level.

“I’m so glad I’ll be getting some
help with my studies,” Ossian said. His voice was melodic and oddly soothing
like a beautiful piece of classical music. “I’m finding it a little difficult.”

Raven’s toes were curled up in his
shoes, his dick was getting hard. He adjusted himself in his seat, sitting up
very straight. He was, by nature, a tense person, but the tension he was
feeling at that moment was of a completely different nature. This was
ridiculous, he had never in his life reacted to another man in this exaggerated
way.

“Before…” Raven broke off to cough.
“Excuse me,” he apologised, desperately trying to maintain his composure.
Taking a breath he began again. “Before we begin with your studies, I’d like
you to tell me a little about yourself. We are going to be in this room
together once every week so it will be a good idea to not be strangers as best
we can.”

Ossian laughed softly.

How can I take being in a room
this small with this man for an hour every week? I cannot do it. I cannot
maintain composure for sixty minutes! I cannot possibly do this! Why did it
have to be him?

“Are you okay?” Ossian asked but
Raven didn’t seem to hear him.

Stop being so weak! You are the
Beta!  So he is the most breath-taking man you have ever laid eyes upon. So
what? He is your student and you are his tutor.  That means NO. You are a
professional and you cannot be smitten with a student.  Get over this nonsense
right now!

“Are you-?”

“I’m fine,” Raven said. “Okay, tell
me a little about yourself.” He smiled and clasped his hands together…tightly.

Ossian shrugged. “Well, my name is
Ossian, and I’ve swapped fresh air, greenery and sea breezes for the hustle and
bustle of the city. I only moved to London to attend USL.”

“Why, USL?”

“It is the best University for
Psychology isn’t it?”

Raven nodded, “There’s no doubting
that.”

“I’m living in Bethnal Green at the
moment, shared accommodation.” He smiled flashing perfect, even, white teeth. 
His gleamed strangely.

Ossian stood up and released his
hair, letting it cascade over his shoulders, glistening in the moonlight that
now bathed him. He was naked, hard, his beauty breath-taking. They were no
longer in the office. They were under the stars on a lush green hillside
drenched in the silver light from above.

Raven was naked and breathing
heavily, heat pulsing through him. The air was thick with the scent of sex, the
enticing cologne that was Ossian. His eyes moved over the man before him,
taking in every muscle, every contour and every detail of the perfect naked
flesh.

“Show me the wolf,” said Ossian.
“I want to see the wolf.”

“What’s going on?” Raven asked.

Ossian moved closer. A gentle
breeze caught his hair and it no longer mattered where they were or how. Raven
took a step toward Ossian, his feet stepping lightly on cool grass. He wanted
to take this man, to lay him down on that cool grass and make love to him, be
inside him, kiss him and taste him.

“Show me the wolf,” Ossian said
again, waves of warm breath rich with the cologne brushed Raven’s skin. Raven
drank it in, licking his lips.

“Show me the wolf,” Ossian said
a third time, reaching his hands out to touch Raven’s bare chest. Raven
couldn’t breathe under his touch. He growled, the wolf’s primal instincts
roaring. It was too much to handle. Ossian’s touch was too much. There was
pleasure and rage and exquisite ecstasy. He couldn’t handle the onslaught of
the mixture of emotions, the fire and the need, the cry of the wolf…

“NO!” Raven leapt up, knocking his
chair over.

Ossian practically jumped out of
his chair. “What is it?” He looked about nervously.

Raven’s eyes shot around the room,
taking in the white walls, the painting, the desk, the plant and Ossian –
complete with clothes and tied-back hair. He sniffed the air. The only smells
he picked up were that of the plant and the carpet. The scent he was looking
for was not on the air.

“Is everything okay?” Ossian asked
warily.

Raven couldn’t answer. His body was
trembling and a thin sheen of perspiration had sprung up on his brow and top
lip. This was the second time something bizarre had happened in the presence of
this man. It was then that Raven noticed that Ossian was waiting on his feet,
anxious and confused by his behaviour. He looked genuinely afraid. He couldn’t
do this. He couldn’t keep acting this way. Whatever was happening was due to his
desire for Ossian and it had to stop. He needed to do his job to help Ossian
and stop acting like an over-hormonal teen every time he laid eyes on him.

“I apologise,” Raven said calmly.
“I’m really sorry. I think this small office is getting to me.” It was a lame
excuse, but the first that sprung to mind.  He slid back into his seat.

Ossian hesitated before sitting
back down. “Claustrophobic?”

“Not really,” Raven said honestly.

“Oh.”

Raven hated the fact he had made
his student uneasy. “Why don’t we talk about phobia?” He relaxed his posture,
leant back and smiled warmly, using his body language to foster a comfortable
environment.

Ossian didn’t respond.

“Think of it as a get to know you
session,” said Raven. “Are you afraid of anything?”

This time Ossian had a positive
reaction. His lips curved in a beautiful smile. “Spiders.”

12.

LIPGLOSS

Faye gave a low wolf whistle. “Wow,
Thistle, that’s some outfit.” 

Thistle gave a little twirl in her
electric blue cat-suit that ended just below her pert buttocks. Her shapely
legs were clad in patchwork cream and blue knee-high boots with a wedge heel,
and a thick sparkly cream belt adorned her waist.  She looked absolutely
stunning and Rose noted Faye’s genuine envy with amusement.  Faye didn’t like
being upstaged.

“She might just upstage us in the
outfit department,” Rose said, studying her own silver off the shoulder mini
dress and black and silver heels.  She knew she looked good– the silver tone
set off her golden hair and made her blue eyes even bluer. 

Faye studied herself in her
full-length mirror. Her leather red-black cat suit set off her crimson hair and
was cut in a deep ‘V’, accentuating her full breasts, which were encased in an
expensive push up bra.  She looked like a seventies superhero. She looked
smoking. She frowned.

“Don’t worry, hun, you look
fabulous.” Faye’s new friend drawled over her shoulder as she applied another
coat of lip-gloss in the dresser mirror.  “You look totally chic.  Trust me,
you’d be surprised how many people aim for chic but only ever manage slutty,” she
added, giving Thistle a once over.

Rose rolled her eyes. They had
decided to meet at Faye’s to get ready before heading out to The Whisper for a
seventies disco. But Faye had neglected to warn them about her new friend. 
Rose had only been in the room with Catherine for half an hour and already the
woman was beginning to grate on her nerves.  With her ash blonde hair and icy
blue eyes, she looked cold and distant.  Rose didn’t like to judge people on
appearance but it was quickly evident to her that in this case, Catherine lived
up to hers. 

Faye had explained that they had
met in Selfridges during the week and it had been their mutual admiration for
Dior products that had caused them to strike up a conversation.

And here she was– Faye’s new
rich-bitch friend lounging on the red velvet covered dresser seat in her
designer pale blue halter neck dress, looking impossibly chic and
sophisticated. Rose was struggling to see what her friend saw in the girl. She
for one was finding it harder and harder to bite her tongue because, despite
her obvious good looks and dress sense, Catherine was simply rude.

Catherine turned away from the
mirror, fixing her arctic gaze fully on Thistle. “It totally suits
you
,
though.” She said it as if delivering a compliment.  Her smile however did not
reach her eyes.  Rose felt her resolve wavering, and was just about to tell
Catherine where to shove it, when Thistle spoke.

“I’m glad you think so, I was so
going for the lady of the night look. Some of us have to work at it while
others…” here she paused, sweeping Catherine up and down with her wide eyed
gaze, “just have it honed to perfection.”

Catherine slid off the seat taking
a step toward Thistle, her eyes were dangerous slits, and her lips a thin line
as she pressed them tightly together.  If she was hoping to intimidate she was
sorely disappointed.

Thistle turned away, deliberately
unconcerned and delved into her small handbag. Her eyes met Rose’s and she shot
her a wicked smile. 

Rose bit the inside of her cheeks
to stop herself from grinning.  It was obvious that Thistle wasn’t someone that
needed saving.  She found herself warming even more to the woman. 

Faye had usurped Catherine’s
position at the dresser and was carefully applying her makeup. If she was aware
of the tension between Catherine and the other girls she made no indication of
it. She seemed blind to her new friend’s bitchiness– Rose resolved to have a
word with her as soon as they were alone.

“What we need is a drink!” Rose
clapped her hands together enthusiastically in an attempt to lighten the mood.
She was determined to have a good night and wasn’t going to let Catherine spoil
it for her. “I put a bottle of Jacob’s Creek in the fridge when I got here. It
should be chilled by now. I’ll go get it.” She headed towards the door.

“None for me, I cannot stomach that
cheap stuff.” Catherine held up her hands, her lips turned down to illustrate
her disgust. 

Rose paused, her hand on the doorknob,
as she struggled to keep her cool. A second later and she lost the fight.  Slowly
letting go of the handle she turned to face Miss High and Mighty. Her voice
when she spoke was cold and hard. “You are one of the rudest people I have ever
met, and I’m struggling with the desire to smack you in your over-glossed
mouth.  In fact,” she continued, her tone low and menacing, “if you haven’t
undergone a radical personality adjustment by the time I come back, I just
might lose my battle and succumb to my desires.”

Thistle snorted and choked on a
giggle.

Faye’s eyes widened in shock.

Catherine simply stood there
opening and closing her mouth and looking suspiciously like a fish out of
water.

“Have a chat with your friend,
Faye, because that was my first and final warning.” And with that, Rose left
the room.

She was fuming as she stomped down
the stairs and headed toward the kitchen. The stupid, stuck up, over-preened,
over-plucked bitch!  What the hell had Faye been thinking?  Rose shook her head
in wonder as she stormed into the kitchen and yanked open the fridge.  Pulling
out the chilled bottle she began rummaging in the drawers for a corkscrew. 
“Where the fuck is the fucking stupid…surely they would have a bloody…”

“Drawer, to your left, at the
back.” The voice was like a soothing balm and Rose felt the tense knots in her
shoulders un-knit slightly.  She half turned to find Ossian seated at the large
kitchen table surrounded by papers and textbooks.  He was regarding her with an
amused yet quizzical expression as he twiddled his pen between his fingers. 
Smothered in her own cloud of irritation, and on a mission to dowse herself in
alcohol, she had completely missed him sitting there.

Following his instructions, she
located the elusive corkscrew and uncorked the bottle, lifting it to her lips
for a satisfying swig. 

“That bad?”  Ossian raised an eyebrow. 

Rose nodded, swallowing the cool
liquid and taking another swig.

“I didn’t realise how stressful a
girls night out could be.” He was only half teasing.

Today his hair was loose and fell
about his shoulders like a raven’s wing.  On anyone else the style may have
looked feminine but on Ossian it only served to enhance his aesthetically
sculpted features.  She must have been too obvious in her appraisal because he
seemed suddenly uncomfortable.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,
it’s just you’ve got really cool hair and you are pretty hot on the hottie
scale– about a 10 out of 10 really.” 

Shit, what was wrong with her?
She’d only had two gulps of wine but they seemed to have gone right to her head,
and her mouth was doing that thing where it flapped without her brain’s
approval.

He sat forward looking intrigued.
“And what scale is this exactly?”

He looked so serious that she burst
out laughing. “It’s just something women do when sizing up a bloke. I’m sure
you men have your equivalent. Probably tailored to T & A.”

“I’m sorry?” Now he just looked
confused. 

They stared at each other for a few
seconds, in which Rose tried to figure out if he was really as naive as he made
out or if he was having her on. He looked pretty sincere and she had always
been a good judge of character. She decided to give him the benefit of the
doubt.

She shook her head. “Never mind.
I’m not about to corrupt you. It’s hard enough to come across a decent
gentlemanly bloke nowadays. I’m not about to whittle down the numbers by
filling your mind with crap.”

He sat back cocking his head.
“That’s very thoughtful of you.”  His eyes flicked down to his notes and Rose
felt a pang of guilt.

“Speaking of thoughtful, I should
leave you to it.”

He smiled and nodded.

She was almost out of the door,
wine in hand, when a thought occurred to her. Spinning on her heel she turned
back to face him. “You don’t get out much do you?”

“I’m sorry?”

She sighed. “All work and no play
and all that.”

 His brow creased in a frown.  He
was certainly a keeper.

“What I’m saying is it’s great that
you work so hard but you need to take a break, chill with friends and unwind.
It is a Friday night after all.”

His brow cleared and he smiled at
her in a way, which sent tingles down to her toes.  “I appreciate what you’re
saying. I just haven’t really had the time to make many friends.” He indicated
the books on the table. “There’s too much to do.”

“Well in that case you’re coming to
mine tomorrow evening.  We’re having a small get together– a buffet and drinks,
nothing wild,” she explained.  “Here, let me jot down the address.” She reached
for his pen, plucking it from his fingers and scribbled Flo’s address on a
piece of paper. “Or, you could come down with Faye. Whatever works for you?”

He sat staring at the piece of
paper for a long moment.  He was probably nervous about meeting a load of
strangers.

“I promise the people are great and
I personally guarantee you’ll have a good time.” She shot him her most winning smile. 

He nodded slowly, tucking the piece
of paper into the front pocket of his jeans. “In that case, consider it a
date.”

Rose flushed and, a moment after
saying the words, twin spots of colour appeared on Ossian’s cheeks also.  “I
mean, I will be there.”

“Okay, cool.” Picking up the bottle
of wine she left him to it.

Time to see if Catherine was going
to give her the excuse she needed to deliver a knuckle sandwich.