Chapter 194

Sleeping was something Christian missed. It wasn’t that he couldn’t sleep. Sometimes he did. But it wasn’t necessary. Over the years, he’d heard lots of Guardians talk about how much more they could get done now that it didn’t take up so much of their time. He’d agreed, making the statement himself more than once. On nights like this, however, when there was no hunt going on, and the city outside seemed strangely quiet, he wished he could lie in his bed, close his eyes, and dream.
It was the dreaming more than the sleeping that he missed. Humans were lucky in that when they fell asleep, they had the opportunity to potentially see faces they could no longer see with their eyes open. He would’ve loved to see his father again, to tell him everything he’d missed, to thank him for all that he’d taught him. Dreaming would’ve at least allowed him the satisfaction of thinking, for a little while, that Peter Henry was still alive.
And then there was Brandy. In the few weeks since they’d kissed, she’d kept her distance, and he’d done his best to stay away from her. It was difficult, though. All he wanted to do was reach out and run his hands through her silky dark curls. The scent of her--leather and wine, not flowers like most women--lingered after she left a room, and he’d breathe it in, remembering how it had felt to hold her for those few futile seconds, to close his eyes and pretend for a moment that she was his.
Lying on his bed with just the one oil lamp on, his book open on the bed next to him but not in his hand, he thought about what it would’ve been like to be with her, for her to claim him as her own. He’d give up everything he had to make her his, even if it cost him his life eventually. She was a drug, and he was an addict, every bit as much as an opium addict needed their drug of choice to survive.
He glanced over at the book on communication he’d been reading. He was trying to figure out how to create the device he’d thought up earlier, a way for them to speak to one another without anyone knowing, but this book mostly spoke about telegraph and telegram technology and wasn’t helpful. He’d keep reading, though, until he came up with something.
Christian was just about to pick the book up again when his bedroom door creaked open. He sat up slightly, startled to see anyone coming in his room at this later hour, but when he saw it was Brandy, wearing a long white robe over her ivory nightgown, he sat up completely, resting back on his elbows.
Her lips were turned down, her eyebrows knit together, as she rushed across the small space and sat next to him on the bed, her hip next to his knee. She pulled her robe and gown around her, though not well. The silky material clung to her pale skin, the plunging neckline revealing more than he’d ever seen before, even when she was playing a saloon girl and flirting with the men at the taverns. He held his eyes up, difficult as it was, and looked into those light purple orbs. “Brandy, what’s going on? Are you all right?”
Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes as she nodded her head, a juxtaposition he wasn’t sure how to read. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “Granger is asleep. I’m so thankful he’s one of the rare Guardians who will pass out for a few hours at a time after….” She left off completing that sentence, and he was glad for it. The thought of her with anyone else, even the man who claimed her as his own, made him see red.
“Why are you here?” Christian asked, reaching out and placing a hand on her leg as he lifted himself further toward sitting. The feel of her knee beneath the gown was warm and inviting. He wanted to touch her, to be touched by her. He didn’t care that she’d just been with Granger. She was here now.
“I couldn’t stay away. I tried, believe me. I’ve been tryin’. I was careful. I know he has eyes everywhere. His servants won’t keep a secret from him. If they were to be found out holdin’ back information, he would kill them. It’s dangerous.” She looked back at the door. “I know no one saw me, but I shouldn’t have come.”
“It’s all right,” he said, his hand still precariously posed on her leg. “But… why did you?”
She bit into her bottom lip, twisting the pink skin between her dazzling white teeth. “Because… I couldn’t not come.”
He knew all he needed to know then. There was no more time to waste on words. She leaned forward as he came up to capture her lips with his, her hand slipping up underneath the thin white undershirt he wore, her fingers brushing against his abdominal muscles as he devoured her mouth, his hands pulling her toward him, fighting with the layers of gossamer nightwear.
It didn’t take long for Brandy to free herself of both the robe and gown, pulling them off as he worked his pants down. He let her rip his shirt up over his head, all of their clothing discarded as they came together, Brandy on top of him, her hair catching the light from the oil lamp and giving her the halo she deserved as an angel.
Assuming this was the one and only time they could ever be together, Christian took his time, studying every curve of her perfect body. Even blinking seemed a waste of a split second he had to drink her in. She closed her eyes often, though, arching her back and tipping her head as he held her hips in place and guided her along. Pleasing Brandy was important. He wanted her to remember this night long after they parted, to remember how she felt when she was with him, that it was as close to perfection as anything she’d ever experienced before. Her moans were soft and controlled, likely so as not to alert the neighbors in their thin-walled accommodations, but he could tell by the way her mouth fell open, the way her lip quivered, that she was at her peak. He managed to keep her there for quite some time before he could no longer contain himself and filled her, biting down on his bottom lip to keep from crying out.
It was over. She would leave, and he’d be all alone with just the memory of her and that intoxicating scent. Christian’s breathing began to steady, and a wave of sadness washed over him. It had been something he’d never thought he’d experience, and worth whatever may befall him so long as she was safe, but the idea of her walking through that door, of disappearing, of heading back to Granger’s bed, was almost enough to make him weep.
Rather than getting up right away, Brandy swung her leg over top of him and snuggled up next to him. Christian wrapped his arm around her, holding her next to his chest, wishing it was enough to keep her safe. “Thank you,” he said quietly. He meant it. If he were to die tomorrow, he’d pass with a smile on his face. If he were to live a thousand more lifetimes, this memory would stay with him through all of them.
“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks flushing in a way he rarely saw. Had he embarrassed her? Brandy, the girl who wasn’t shy or afraid of anything? “I know we shouldn’t have. I just….”
“Don’t apologize, Brandy. I’m so glad you came to me.” His fingers grazed the soft skin of her waist and hip. Silk and cream. How could he ever take his hands off of her?
“I can’t do it again, though. The risk is too great.”
“I know.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head as her fingers ran through the fine hair on his chest. “Are you certain you won’t just leave with me?”
“I can’t.”
He knew that was what she would say, but he had to try. She could, couldn’t she? If she wanted to? He’d take her anywhere to get her away from Granger. He knew the man’s reach. They could outrun it.
She turned to look at him, her elbow propped on his chest as she stared up at him. Again, he found it hard not to look at her bare breasts, but her twinkling lavender eyes held his attention. “I know you don’t sleep much. Do you ever?”
“Rarely,” he said quietly, tugging on her brown curls. “I wish I could, though. If I could sleep, perhaps I could dream of you.”
She smiled at him. “Do you ever… imagine us together?”
It was his turn to feel his face reddening. “Every day.”
Her smile widened. “Me, too. Do you think… it might ever be possible? Someday? Perhaps someday Granger will lose his power. Things might change? Couldn’t they?”
Christian nodded. “I hope so.”
Brandy blew out a long breath. “I hope so, too.” She collapsed on top of him, her face pressed against his chest. In a few moments, she’d have to get up. She’d have to get dressed and creep back down the stairs, into Granger’s private quarters on the second-to-top floor of the hotel that bore his name. She’d have to climb into bed beside him. If he woke up in a few hours and wanted her again, she’d have to spread her legs for him once more. She had to do everything he said because he owned her. Christian didn’t quite understand how that had come to be, but he did know that if they were found out, Granger would find a way to kill them both. If this cost him his life, so be it, but he had to protect Brandy. She didn’t deserve to be treated like a caged animal. She deserved her freedom, to run off into the sunset like a wild horse.
Christian ran his fingers through her hair, embedding every inch of her, every sound, every touch, every scent into his memory so, no matter what happened, he’d always have this night.