Restraint (The Revelation Series Book 2) (31 page)

I step back
to catch my breath as my brain checks-in with my body. The jumpiness is still there. I step forward and start punching the bag again. My rage and frustration explodes with each connection my fists make.

“You want a spot
ter?” Asher asks from the doorway. My heart clenches at the sound of his voice. I close my eyes and inhale, pushing my emotions down. I stiffen my posture and focus on the bag.

“I’m good
,” I say as I keep jabbing. My arms and legs are on fire. I don’t trust myself near him.

In m
y peripheral vision, I notice he’s dressed in black loose workout pants, his standard leather wristbands and a black t-shirt. The sudden urge to run into his arms becomes overwhelming, so I return my attention to the bag and beat it senseless.

“Want to talk about why you’re kicking the shit
out of the punching bag?” the hot gargoyle asks while coming up next to me. Asher’s eyes darken and glow as he drinks me in like a thirsty man. The muscle in his cheek is twitching like it does when he’s trying to control his emotions.

“Nope
,” I answer as I stop, bend down and pick up my water bottle. He’s watching me while I’m gulping down my water. His gaze follows my neck with each swallow of the liquid.

Asher’s
hand snaps out and curls in the bottom of my black tank top, pulling me toward him inch by inch. “I like this,” he says in a low, seductive voice as my body touches his. He stares at me for the longest time before cockily smiling. I lock my focus onto his lips. As they get closer, our breaths intermingle and my body hums in anticipation of his touch.

“TIMES UP!” McKenna shouts from the doorway
, startling both Asher and I as we jump away from one another.
Damn stealthy gargoyles.

“
By the grace, Kenna,” Asher scolds her as she looks at him insolently. With a loud and long growl, he snaps up his towel from the floor and heads toward the door. “I’ll work out later.” With that, he leaves the room and I’m feeling empty again.

McKenna’s
head snaps to me. “Are you willing to die for him, or have him die for you? Because I promise you, that’s what will happen if the council figures out you two are shacking up.” Then she lands the final crushing blow. “You’ve seen the vision for yourself, blood of Eden. You’ve seen the council’s punishment for the violation of his oath.”

She’s right. I have and protect
ing him is my sole focus. Without a word, I turn and head to my room for a long, cold shower and desperate diversion.

After fighting hard t
o get my tunnel vision off Asher, I decide school is the perfect distraction. Spring classes begin shortly so I get organized by going online to download my eTextbooks and syllabuses then sign up with each professor via email. After, I run through each class description so I know what to expect.
I haven’t been this prepared for classes since freshman year of high school.

School prove
s to be a short-lived diversion. I decide to call my aunt to catch up. After the four hundredth time of her asking when I might be coming home, I’ve had enough and promise to call her later in the week. Sitting on the window bench, I stare out onto the gardens as my eyes drift to the lake. Shivering at the memory of Saraphina, I decide to go see if Callan can show me how to bake. Sad. But true.

I pull open my door and notice
across the hallway Asher’s door is slightly ajar. The light is on and I hear movement. I stop, close my eyes and inhale. My heart races at the knowledge he’s in there. When I have myself under control, I open my eyes only to be met with the sight of Asher’s shirtless back.

Drowning in desperation
and his attractiveness, I absorb every muscle and each line of the tattoo. He reaches for the waistband of his gym pants and begins to pull them down. I force my eyes away and run down to the kitchen, blushing.

Callan
is leaning against the counter when I run in like a bat out of hell. His eyes widen at the sight of me before I smooth myself out and ask if he wants to make some cookies. Standing there with his coffee in his hands, he smiles knowingly over the mug.

“
Let’s get geared up,” he says, walking to the pantry door and throwing an apron at me. That’s what I love about Callan. He never asks questions, just jumps in when you need him. Over the next few hours, we make about two dozen different batches cookies. This gargoyle proved to be an amazing distraction and I fully understand his need to bake as a pastime.

The two of us
are laughing hard while cleaning up the last remnants of the mess caused from our flour fight, so we don’t notice Asher until he clears his throat. We both look up and smile at him. Asher, on the other hand, looks angry, standing in the doorway with his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

“What’s going on?”
His voice is tight as he eyes us.

“Eves needed to bake
,” Callan says, biting back another laughing fit.

Asher pulls
his brows together. “Bake?” The word rolls around his mouth like a bad taste.

“Bake
,” I repeat and wave my hand around the kitchen at the dozens of plates of cookies.

“You should have some
. They’re really good,” Callan says and kisses my cheek. “She must get her mad cooking skills from my side of the family.” He winks as I beam at the compliment.

At his
statement, that little tug which warms my heart whenever one of them includes me in their family knots tighter. “I see,” Asher says with a cool, detached tone.

Callan studies Asher for a moment.
“I’m going to go find Abby real quick. If I leave you two alone, remember the rules. No jumping the brooding gargoyle, cutie.” Callan bear hugs me, causing me to squeal.

I swear
I hear a growl come from Asher. Callan puts me back on my feet slowly and walks around Asher, guarded as he backs out the doorway. He must have heard the warning sound too.

Asher walk
s into the room and plucks one of the cookies from the cooling rack. “So you and Callan…baked?” His voice is off as he chomps on the dark chocolate oatmeal cookie.

Confused
with his demeanor, I go to the fridge and grab the milk before pouring him a glass. “What, you don’t think I can handle a few cookies?” I ask, handing him the cup and our fingers brush. The slight touch causes the heat to rise through my body, making it warm and tingle with energy.

Asher’s breath picks
up at the same time. He gives me a look that suggests the cookie isn’t the only thing he wants to devour at the moment. With his eyes never leaving mine, he roughly sets down the glass and grabs my neck, pulling me toward his mouth. He stops just before his lips meet mine. His other hand clutches my lower back, but he doesn’t move closer.

Instead, he lifts
me onto the counter as my legs circle around his waist. In the position he desires, Asher’s hand moves across my throat sensually. My head falls back against the cabinet as I let out a soft whimper from his touch.

Then
, in a fast motion, he removes his hand and steps back. We’re both breathing hard. He just stares at me, panting as we both come to our senses. Without words, I slide off the counter and walk past him.
We suck at self-control.

Over the next few
weeks, we manage to avoid one another. Asher spends most of his time in strategy meetings with the visiting clans, in business meetings with Callan and Keegan, or in the training room. I stay busy by training or focusing on school. Thank goodness classes have started and keep me pretty occupied. On rare occasions, we end up in the hallway or kitchen together and one of us has enough sense to leave. It’s been hard, to say the least.

It
doesn’t help that the other clans are around us more often in the house. We have to be careful about our interactions even more with prying eyes watching us with engrossed fascination. Each time I have to force a smile or interest in a clan member, it’s always in the back of my head that they might be the one working with Deacon.

Marcus and
Morgana are here a lot lately. It’s apparent that the Manhattan clan is a close ally of the London clan. Their relationships seem so easy with one another. Morgana’s presence brings a whole different emotional roller coaster that I need to control each time I walk into the room and she’s there. Though I have to admit, I’ve become really fond of Marcus. He’s entertaining and carefree. Being around him brings a sense of normalcy back to my life.

Feeling lighter than I have in a while, I
take the last step into the kitchen only to stop in my tracks at the sight of Morgana waiting for the coffee to brew, wearing one of Asher’s t-shirts.
What the hell?

Sensing
my presence, she turns and offers me a phony smile. “Hi, Eve. Fiona is off today so I’m making coffee. I know how bad-tempered Asher is in the morning without his first cup.” I try to calm myself before I lunge at her and yank her extensions out.

“I see
,” I say, my voice cracking. The change of pitch doesn’t go unnoticed by her. Morgana’s bogus nice-girl-act grin grows wider, knowing she got to me. “I wasn’t expecting anyone from another clan to be here this early,” I mention in an even tone.

“
Our strategy meeting ran late. Deacon is one hard motherfucker to figure out,” she enlightens. “Anyway, Asher and I have history so it’s not uncommon for me to spend the night.” She turns back to the coffee maker.

The bile in my throat rises along with my temper. I take a step toward her but stop when I hear Asher’s deep voice. “Eve?” I turn and lock furious eyes with him before I brus
h past him at a crazy fast pace. My blood is boiling.

I hear
him following, but I can’t stop. I rush up the stairs and slam into my room. My breathing is completely out of control. He walks in at a slow pace and closes the door before turning to me and knitting his brows. “What’s wrong?” 
Is he for real?

The
question shatters the last of my sanity and I attack him with my fists. He grabs each wrist and spins me so my back is against the door. Asher lifts my arms over my head, pinning me from another attempt at hitting him. He pushes his knee in between my legs to stop me from kneeing him.

“Whatever conclusion you’ve come to
, it’s wrong. Morgana, along with all the other clan members, stayed here last night after a late night strategy meeting. Normally, when we’re in London, they stay in the guest apartment. We don’t have that here, so she stayed with Marcus in the one of the spare rooms. That’s it, siren.” He holds me in place while I process the explanation.

My heart finally stops pounding
in my ears. I inhale and blow out a long breath and let go of the insane amount of irrational anger running through me. “What the hell is wrong with me? One minute I’m fine and the next I’m ready to rip someone’s face off? I can’t control my temper or emotions anymore,” I say in between shallow breaths.

Asher’
s face softens. “It could be the ascension, or the bond might be changing. I don’t know. Mated gargoyles become very possessive of one another, almost animalistic. Perhaps that’s what you’re experiencing since we shared stone state,” he offers while watching my eyes.

Suddenly, I’m very aware that he has me pinned against the door. My eyes close
, savoring his body’s proximity to me as I inhale his scent. His voice is low and smooth as he says, “We should go back downstairs. Everyone’s leaving today and we don’t want to both not be present. It might seem odd.”

I nod
my agreement since my vocal cords don’t seem to be working. Before Asher moves away, he presses into my body one time as his head drops into my neck, letting his nose run the length of my throat and over my jawline before his lips barely caress mine.

***

I toss and turn for about twenty minutes.
The agitation finds its way back into my body, scratching at me. I finally give up and decide I’m getting no sleep tonight. With great dramatics, I throw the blanket off my bare legs and sit up, trying to figure out how I’m going to calm myself down.

Quietly, I
open the door to my bedroom. Noticing the lights are out in the house, I tip toe across the hallway to Asher’s room. Just as I raise my hand to knock, the door opens and his arms dart out, pulling me into the room.

Without warning, he slams me against the wall, causing a gasp to escape my lips. “What are you doing, siren?” he ask
s, his voice thick.

“I-I couldn’t sleep,” I stutter
, not able to think with him pushed against me and his breath fanning my face.

“Fuck this,” he says as he roughly
takes my lips with his. I melt at the taste of him as he clutches my upper thighs and picks me up, carrying me to his bed.
Please don’t stop touching me,
I think to myself as his hand slips under my t-shirt, landing on my skin and pressing me closer to him.

At his touch
, a bolt of electricity flows through me, as if the bond is content because we’re reunited. I groan loudly at the warmth it causes my veins and Asher let out his own sound of pleasure, fueling the ache I’ve been feeling for him for weeks. Gently, he lays me on the bed and covers my body with his. At a frantic rate, we’re both grabbing, touching and pulling.