Chapter 14: The First Night

He stayed.

Trudy took one look at the two of us in the doorway, dripping, and picked up her coat.

"I'm sleeping at Hoyt's," she said. "Nobody tell me why."

The door shut behind her.

Thane stood in my mother's front room with water running off his hands.

I rolled to the stove and fed it, because I needed something to do with my arms.

"You should get out of those clothes," I said.

"Freya."

"You'll be sick."

"I'm already sick."

"Sicker."

He didn't move.

I turned the chair to face him.

My mouth was dry, and my skin was so hot that the wet sweater steamed against it.

"I hate you," I said. "I want you to know that first."

"I know."

"I hate you, and I haven't stopped wanting you for one night since the dais.

"I lay on that cot and wanted you while I hated you."

His breath went out of him.

"Come here," I said.

He crossed the room and stopped in front of my chair.

He did not touch me.

"You said never unless I say so," he said. His voice was barely there. "Are you saying so?"

"I'm asking."

He knelt.

His cold hands closed over my knees, and then slid up my thighs, and I felt every inch of it.

It was dull, as it had been for weeks.

But it was there, and it was warm where his palms went.

"Can you feel that?" he said.

"Some. Don't stop."

He bent his head and put his mouth against my stomach through the wet wool.

I pulled the sweater over my head myself and threw it on the floor.

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