Grimnirs
Runes Series #2.5
He stared at me as though I’d lost my mind, and then he chuckled.
“Jerk.” I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him.
He caught it and threw it on my bed. Then he opened his arms.
“Come here. I should be consoling you, not giving you a hard time. The Norns must have erased your memories. That’s why you can’t remember me.”
“Norns? I don’t know what those are or care. Just. Get. Out.” I grabbed the nearest thing, the poker I’d used to disperse ghosts, and threw it at him. He didn’t even attempt to block it. It bounced off his chest and landed on the floor with a thud.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll find out why and help you remember everything.” His glance went to my bed, and he gave me a slow smile, the implication clear.
“In your dreams, reaper,” I snapped, making the word sound like something that had crawled out of a sewer. “Leave.”
He stopped smirking, his tattoos appearing and starting to glow. “Someone is coming.” He angled his head and listened. “Heavier footsteps mean it’s your father. I’m a Grimnir, not grim or reaper. Grimnir.” He moved fast and was in front of me before I could blink, his hand cradling my head, his lips an inch from mine. “And you and I are lovers.”
“No, we’re not.” I tried to push him away, but it was like pushing a wall. A warm wall with a pounding heart and scents designed to mess with a girl’s head. His eyes went to my lips. “Don’t you dare,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, but I do.” Then he kissed me.
I’d expected an invasion of my senses. Instead I got gentleness and something I couldn’t explain. My hands stopped pushing him away. My fingers curled and bunched his T-shirt. I wasn’t sure what I meant to do. Pull him closer, perhaps. All I knew was the fight had left me.
He lifted his head, saving me from humiliating myself. Then he opened his mouth and spoke. “You want me, Cora Jemison. Your mind might not remember, but your body does.”
I wanted to knee him hard, but he was already moving away.
“Jerk.” I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him.
He caught it and threw it on my bed. Then he opened his arms.
“Come here. I should be consoling you, not giving you a hard time. The Norns must have erased your memories. That’s why you can’t remember me.”
“Norns? I don’t know what those are or care. Just. Get. Out.” I grabbed the nearest thing, the poker I’d used to disperse ghosts, and threw it at him. He didn’t even attempt to block it. It bounced off his chest and landed on the floor with a thud.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll find out why and help you remember everything.” His glance went to my bed, and he gave me a slow smile, the implication clear.
“In your dreams, reaper,” I snapped, making the word sound like something that had crawled out of a sewer. “Leave.”
He stopped smirking, his tattoos appearing and starting to glow. “Someone is coming.” He angled his head and listened. “Heavier footsteps mean it’s your father. I’m a Grimnir, not grim or reaper. Grimnir.” He moved fast and was in front of me before I could blink, his hand cradling my head, his lips an inch from mine. “And you and I are lovers.”
“No, we’re not.” I tried to push him away, but it was like pushing a wall. A warm wall with a pounding heart and scents designed to mess with a girl’s head. His eyes went to my lips. “Don’t you dare,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, but I do.” Then he kissed me.
I’d expected an invasion of my senses. Instead I got gentleness and something I couldn’t explain. My hands stopped pushing him away. My fingers curled and bunched his T-shirt. I wasn’t sure what I meant to do. Pull him closer, perhaps. All I knew was the fight had left me.
He lifted his head, saving me from humiliating myself. Then he opened his mouth and spoke. “You want me, Cora Jemison. Your mind might not remember, but your body does.”
I wanted to knee him hard, but he was already moving away.
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