Revive Me, Part One: The Act (New Haven, #2)

by J.L. Seegars

It was supposed to be a simple kiss, but it’s not. It’s an awakening. It’s a million bolts of electricity reviving a stalled heart. It’s a montage of a thousand lifetimes spent in a million reckless, beautiful ways. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and, though I have no way of knowing this for sure, my biggest mistake.

was supposed to be a simple kiss, but it’s not. It’s an awakening. It’s a million bolts of electricity reviving a stalled heart. It’s a montage of a thousand lifetimes spent in a million reckless, beautiful ways. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and, though I have no way of knowing this for sure, my biggest mistake.

Save that whole getting on your knees thing for Eric.”

At least that was my routine before I knew what it was like to kiss Mallory Kent.

That small point of connection had short-circuited my entire system, and the taste of her had done the rest. Ruined me. Made it so no matter what I did all I could think about was the way she responded when our mouths collided. Nothing has been able to touch that moment,

All of it, every single thing about her, is distracting as hell,

Suddenly, I want to say more words, utter more apologies. Anything to get rid of the last bit of discomfort passing between us and let her know that she’s safe with me.

Just a second ago, I was thrilled by the idea of chasing her in the literal sense, and now I’m wondering what it would be like to be on the receiving end of any part of her desire. To be pursued by someone that I….

That moment plays on a constant loop in my mind, suspended in a slow, viscous syrup of delight that doesn’t come close to the sweet perfection that was us.

the words tumbling out of my mouth silky smooth while inappropriate images of the million different ways I could keep her up flash through my mind.

He made me like his laugh, made me want to say stupid, embarrassing things just for the sake of hearing it again, and that in and of itself should have made me turn down his offer to replace my shake and fries, but I didn’t.

prompting me to moan and dive in for another taste, not caring that the sound I made had made Chris’ eyes glow dangerously for a second,

“You moaned.” “What?” “You. Moaned.”

The sound, which is totally not the right word for what’s happening in Chris’ chest, strikes a chord deep inside me. It winds its way through me, slipping under my skin and weaving through my bloodstream, curling up along every nerve ending that’s linked to my system, and I freeze.

The thought of seeing her makes my chest ache a bit but in the best way.

It’s a small bit of contact, but it makes me think about what more would feel like. Like that kiss but a million times better.

Or maybe it’s the way having his eyes on me makes my heart beat a little faster, not in the panicked way it does when other guys look at me now but in a way that makes me feel like I’m being examined with the same precision and care given to the most precious gem.

just like the perfect amber shade of your eyes is written into yours.” My breath catches, shock coursing through me at him referring to any part of me as perfect.

my exhausted brain hallucinates grabbing his hand and pulling him inside. Asking him to climb into bed and hold me. Falling asleep in his arms and feeling, for the first time in a long time, safe.

I’m thinking of his kiss. And wondering if I’ll ever feel like that again. Weightless and grounded all at the same time. “You look the exact opposite of terrible.”

he looks satisfied with himself, happy he could leave me speechless.

the urgent, desperate need to hold her washing over me like furious waves.

It’s been nearly two months since I kissed Mallory, and in that time I haven’t laid a finger on another woman.

I don’t even catch her glancing at me in class anymore, and that shit bothers me more than it should.

but if I get even the slightest inkling that Mallory is about to walk away from me, I have this deep-seated need to follow.

To chase the whispers of the truth across the planes of her perfect face, find them in the pools of her amber eyes, and claim them as my own.

My self-deprecating joke makes her smile a little, and the sight of it, as well as knowing I caused it, has warmth spreading through my chest.

Completely chill about breaking some kind of teaching assistant honor code because it’s for her.

Those two little words resonate somewhere deep inside me. Sounding off like a grandfather clock in the dead silence of the midnight hour. Loud. Jarring. Beautifully deafening.

Long and elegant, they move with a swift efficiency over the keyboards, and an image of them wrapped around my dick and then fisted in my sheets, hits me so I look away.

The laughter that erupts from her is hauntingly beautiful, and I soak it up. Take it into my being and resolve myself to never let it go. It’s a dangerous thing, her laugh. Deep and sultry and perfect. A sound I don’t hear often enough, especially not just for me.

It hits me then. The full power of her beauty. The might of her joy.

She’s glorious. Standing above me, all curves and perfect skin and amber eyes that shine like melted gold as they burn into me, and all I want to do in this moment is kiss her. Even as she lays into me, lashing out with her words and striking all of my vulnerabilities with frightening precision, all I want is to feel those lips, the same ones spitting venom at me, against mine. It’s madness.

I turn to face him, and that’s a mistake. A huge one. Because now my lips are millimeters away from his, and his eyes are on them.

The thought sends another pang of jealousy through my chest, and this time it’s so sharp, so fucking painful, I have to take a moment to rub at the spot it seems to be radiating from.

“You always smell like it.” He licks his lips, like talking about my scent makes his mouth water, and I blush because the thought makes the ball of desire low in the pit of my belly start to unfurl. “Like jasmine and citrus.”

“You look beautiful tonight.” My throat is dry, so the chuckle I force out is raspy. “Just tonight?” “No.” His eyes glow. “Not just tonight.”

“Yeah, it’s pink. But not like bubblegum pink or salmon pink, it’s a very specific shade. Softer.” He gives me one of those infectious smiles, the ones that make it impossible not to smile back. “Lighter,” he continues, “like a blush.”

A wish for his kiss, for his hands on my skin, for his eyes, soft and serious and all mine.

Teasing me with possibilities and what ifs I can’t entertain. Forcing me to envision going back in time and meeting her before he ever got the chance to know her. Kissing her against lockers and searching for her face in crowded hallways. Praying to have the same lunch period as her and sneaking out of study hall to see her when it didn’t work out that way.

it’s like he can’t take his eyes off of you.”

“Don’t princess me,” I hiss, which makes him start smiling all over again. Infuriating man.

“I’ll always be in the mood to hold your hand.”

I swear I see a hunger in it that wasn’t there before.

now she’s wearing a hole in my hardwoods with her bare feet. I like the sight way more than I should.

For a second, I imagine prying his fingers off of her, pulling his talons from her skin, and setting her free, but then the image changes. Suddenly it’s not good enough to just remove his fingers from her, I need to break those fingers. Hear his bones cracking and the wet squelching of his flesh as blood pours from his wounds. I don’t just want to set Mallory free, I want to destroy Trent, to wipe his very existence from this earth.

she looks right at home on my couch. Like she belongs there.

My chest burns, a fire sparked inside of me because of her beauty.

“Perfect,” I breathe, and she beams at me.

“I trust you.”