“I do. Promise.” I continued to arch forward, back, forward again, unable to stop the actions. Moaned again. So badly I wanted to reach between us and feel him, really feel him, that part of him that made us different. I didn’t, though. Too unsure. Hadn’t done that before, didn’t know if he’d like it. If I’d do it right.
Where’s the brave girl who kissed him?
“Erik?”
Someone said his name and it wasn’t me. That barely registered in my brain, however. More kiss. More touch. More. Just more.
“Erik? You up, man?”
Who was—?
“Erik?”
Erik stiffened and pulled away from me. His breathing was ragged. He pressed a button on the black box perched on the nightstand. “Yeah, Silver. I’m up.”
“Breakfast will be ready in fifteen.”
My gaze locked with Erik’s. His expression tightened, the fine lines around his mouth straining. “Thanks.” He pressed the button again.
Several minutes passed and neither of us uttered a word. I used the time to get myself under control. Breathing—slow, easy. Skin—cooling degree by degree. Hunger—stubborn, remaining.
“I, uh, should probably call my parents,” I said. Now there was a sobering thought. “I need to let them know when to expect me.” And that I’m okay, in case A.I.R. had finally contacted them.
Slowly Erik frowned. “I don’t know, Camille. You’re in deep now and your parents could be used against you.” He pondered it for a moment. “What did they think you were doing last night?”
I sat up and shook my head, hair tumbling down my back, tickling. “They thought I was staying the night with my friend, Tawny.”
He relaxed against the pillow. “All right. Call them and tell them you want to stay another night with Tawny.”
“But I don’t really have a friend named Tawny,” I admitted, biting my bottom lip. “Shanel and I made her up so we could stay out all night. I didn’t worry about them trying to call her so late at night, but they might try to call sometime during the day.”
Erik regarded me for a heartbeat of time before bursting into laughter. “Hard to picture you lying to Mommy and Daddy.”
“I know,” I mumbled. “I’m a menace.”
“You keep this up and you’ll soon be picking fights and taking names.”
I rolled my eyes, but I’d be lying if I claimed I didn’t like the image. Me, kicking ass. Oh yeah.
Erik’s serious edge returned and he said, “You can’t go home yet, Camille. A.I.R. will be watching your house, waiting.”
Sighing, I rubbed my temples to ward off a sharp ache. “They could have contacted my parents already, who could be worried sick about me even now.”
Once more he scrubbed a hand over his face. “Having worked for A.I.R., I know how they operate. They’ll refrain from worrying your parents so that you’re less afraid to go home. They might secretly tap the lines, yeah, but not worry the parents.”
“Still…”
“If you want, you can call them and tell them, I don’t know…you’re running away or you need time to think about your life. Or if you want to stick with the truth, tell them A.I.R. is chasing you but that you’re hiding and you’re safe and you’ll call them again in a few days. Keep it brief, though. Sound good?”
My stomach rolled at the thought of confessing what I’d gotten myself into. They’d be worried (if they weren’t already), and they’d be disappointed, and they’d be pissed. They’d demand that I come home right away. But maybe…
I blinked as an idea hit me. Maybe my dad could help Erik and his cause. Maybe my dad could work the system and help change the laws so that aliens could receive Onadyn when they needed it, no matter who they were related to. Dad had never worked on behalf of Outers nor for their needs, but if his only “precious” daughter begged him to do it…
“I’ll call them,” I said, determination rushing through me.
Erik reached behind him and grabbed a cell unit from the nightstand. He placed it in my hands, but didn’t pull away. He lingered, tracing my fingertips with his own. “I’ll give you some privacy,” he said, and there was a wistful edge to the words. “I’ll check on breakfast. You, me, Silver, and Shanel will have a big, long talk. Okay?”
“’K. Hey!” I groaned as something else occurred to me. “Why doesn’t A.I.R. just storm this house?” I asked, my nerves now all the more raw.
“This house is actually owned by a human—or a human identity, I should say. Aliens are smart, and have learned to get fake IDs just as humans have. They find a child who died, take the name, have all sorts of legal documents drawn up, and then…”
Would I ever learn the ins and outs of this life?
He shrugged. “A.I.R. has stormed this place several times before, but always came up empty. Now a lawsuit is pending. They can’t enter again without absolute proof of wrongdoing. And if they tried, we’d be notified and out before they ever hit the front steps.”
No, I wouldn’t, I decided.
“Kitchen’s down the steps, past the living room. First room on the right.” He rolled from the bed.
I could have stared at him all day. He was so strong, capable, and sure. My gaze landed on the welts on his back. Crap. I’d forgotten about them and had rubbed him there. Maybe squeezed. He might be strong, but that didn’t mean I should abuse him.
“Did I, uh, hurt you when I, uh, kissed you?”
He glanced at me over his shoulder and smiled. “Totally worth it.”
A blush heated my cheeks.
He left the room without another word, the door shutting behind him automatically and cutting him off from my view. A sense of emptiness hit me.
Sighing, I looked down at the phone. “Here goes,” I said with trepidation, then spoke my dad’s name and address into the mouthpiece. The phone dialed immediately and I almost threw up. Almost disconnected. In the end, I was a brave little solider and remained on the line. Barely.
My mom finally answered, breathless, as if she’d run to the phone.
“Have you talked to anyone about me, Mom?” were the first words out of my mouth.
“What? No. Camille?” she asked, clearly confused.
Before I could stop myself, I told her how I’d lied about Tawny, what I’d done, where I’d been, and what had happened. At first she laughed like I was joking.