Classic Novel
Chapter 37 (Clare)
Chapter 37 (Clare)
“ANGEL-BOY,” he said in disbelief, “You couldn’t think of anything better, hero, knight, prince, just ANGEL-BOY.”
Was he actually attempting to have a normal conversation with her, while she wore a towel, with NOTHING underneath? Sizing his body with an appreciative gaze, she halted on his neck.
There was energy in the room coming off Kalbreal that wasn’t there a moment ago. It was highly alluring as it drew her in, yet resisted at the same time. An aphrodisiac- teasing you, compelling you, but never giving you a taste of its drug, never giving you the full pleasure of its addiction.
His muscular torso flexed, as he walked toward her. Kalbreal was lined, ripped, bulkier than she’d ever thought she would like. Yet- Neither had she considered a possibility of standing with only a towel, in a room with a man, or Angel built like a man, with his ribcage hidden away behind corsets of muscle.
His stature was lean, with an extensive eight pack, broadened shoulders to match a tall powerful frame. She stood and stared longer than she knew could be legal. Her eyes sketching on his imprinted tattoos. The few on his chest resembling a signature of something, surrounded by circles. There was one which caught her eye, it was the only one which was black, with an orange slash crossing through it. He was an Angel. Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.
an Angel,
She repeated the words in her mind, in hopes they might absorb into her emotions. She walked a step closer, her face fixated on the mark marring his flesh above his heart.
Was it all orange or was it red? She couldn’t make out, but for the small bits of black.
He turned toward the left, grabbing a t-shirt from the floor, only a few feet away from her, which gave her a side view.
She admired the black tattoo on his arm, it was symbolic, like fire wrapped in a pair of wings, but the wings bled by a red vine of roses, as the thorns pierced through causing the blood to drip.
He noticed her examining his body and interrupted her, “So are you just going to stand there and stare at me? Or are you going to take out your towel?”
Flushed by the gesture and the sudden exhilarating heat in the room, her cheeks turned red as thoughts penetrated her brain, was he inviting me to bed. His eyes twinkled in clear amusement, by her reaction to his words, “Relax, I meant to change into your robe.”
He touched his chest, “This, it takes some getting used to, us Angels can be very appealing to one without a mark.”
She exhaled loudly not sure whether to be relieved or not, she asked him, “Mark?”
“Nathan's been assigned to explain it all to you tomorrow.”
“If that’s the case, can you wait outside, please?”
He looked at her with tiresome eyes, “No, Go change in the closet.”
She looked around from side to side, remaining in one place, too nervous to take a step. She didn’t hear him, sneak up behind her, not touching her, but still just a breath away, he whispered in her ear, every breath he took as he spoke tickled her earlobe
“Turn around”
Her heart thumped, as she obeyed, she was instantly drawn in confusion to see him a few feet away from her, sitting comfortably on a black suede chair.
He pointed to the closet, and she understood it, he was playing with her, making her weak, in places she didn’t want to feel weak, she knew it by the glimmer in his eyes, the arch of his eyebrow, and the lick of his lip.
Clare grabbed the white robe off the bed and marched angrily toward the closet, too scared to approach him in case he hurt her or worse, she killed an Angel, and became a fugitive on the run, because if he didn’t watch himself she was going to lose it, very fast.
She slammed the door shut, it was really stupid she thought, but since she met Kalbreal it always seemed like she was a game, a tease, YET he said it himself, he would take some getting used to...