NICHOLAS (old version)

chapter five: scent

He looked good. A white button down that contrasted to the slight tan on his skin, black slacks. No tie, no coat; he looked casual and sexy and something inside of me was pacing back and forth, demanding that I go to him and rip every button off of that shirt to see what was underneath.

I knew exactly what was underneath though, it wasn't hard to guess when you looked at him. That only made it worse.

"Damn, you clean up well." He said, black eyes looking me up and down slowly, in a way that made me feel warm and shaky. I felt my face flush. "Really well."

I laughed. It wasn't some sultry little giggle. It was an awkward, pitchy laugh that slipped out of my mouth in an awkward way. I felt my fingers grip the door frame for some degree of support, knowing full and well that my legs weren't going to do their job. His eyes moved to my hand, then to my eyes once more, and he smiled, knowing exactly what was up.

"Thanks. You, uh, you do to." I said, swallowing the lump growing in the back of my throat. "Were we supposed to dress up for dinner? Because I'm sure Minnie could get me something ni-"

"No. It's casual." He said, taking a step closer. At first, I thought he was going to try something, and I was prepared to explain that how I felt wasn't really my fault, that it was all biological, and that we should take things slow, but he didn't move. He didn't try to kiss me or touch me. He just stood there, his body hardly an inch away from mine, close enough for me to taste his scent. And another.

My scent.

Things began to click. I wasn't stupid, I could read in between the lines. The shirt was one I'd touched among my snooping through his dresser, curious about his own sense of style. He'd caught me, and he wanted me to know.

I didn't comment, only squaring my shoulders and meeting his gaze. Natalie seemed to think it was fine, so I went with it.

"If you want to go through my stuff, it's fine." He said, leaning down a little closer. "But you're not going to find much about me. I'm not one for physical momentos, I don't keep the nail clippings of the people I kill. Just ask me questions and I'll answer them. Honestly." 

He wasn't angry. The smile tugging on the corners of his lips made as much clear. He wasn't angry, he was just amused.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain my sense, then opened them. "Fine. I'll let you know when I have a question. Now can we go to dinner? Because I haven't eaten today." I inquired, putting my hands on my hips, trying to make my demand for food clear. We could talk later; first, I needed to eat.

He chuckled and his arms spread out, on each side of the doorway, and he stood a little straighter. "There's actually a little rule about dinner."

"And that is?"

"We need to smell like each other." He said with a shrug, a devilish look on his features. "There's a lot of unmated people in this house. To keep men away from you, and women away from me, so we can enjoy our food in peace... we need to at least smell mated. You won't let me mark you, so we have to settle for the next best thing."

My eyes widened as I realized what the next best thing was. "We are not having sex. That comes after the marki-"

"No." He said, brows furrowing, giving his head a slight shake. "If we were to have sex, we wouldn't be able to do that and be on time for dinner, sweetheart. Just relax and tilt your head to the side." I watched him warily, unsure of his intentions, and he rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to mark you, relax."