A few days turned into a week, the two of us isolated from the town and problems as we found comfort in the other. As the breeze flows across my bare shoulders, I look over my shoulder to see Nixon standing in the doorway, watching me as the storm rolls in over the ocean. His eyes move to mine, locking with my soft gaze as the wind becomes rough outside. We flew to a house of his located in Spain, right on the beach as we have cut off contact with the outside world. For a week we have stayed within the small town where the smaller mansion of his is located, enjoying the silence and beautiful sights.
Nixon walks over to me, wrapping an arm around my waist as we watch the lightening strike the water. Have we fought recently? No, the closest was when I could not sleep the first night, worried for my family. Nixon told me that I picked him and there was no worry needed for them and I ignored his words.
"Do you want to head back tomorrow?" He asks, pulling me in front of him, my back to his chest as I softly close my eyes and listen to the waves crashing along the shore. "Lily?" He asks, his voice quiet as he knows I need the silence for now.
I open my eyes, turning my head to watch as he raises an eyebrow and awaits my response. "We will have to return eventually," I mumble. "I'll pack my bag tonight." He nods, wrapping his arms around my small torso, hoisting me up carefully, afraid I may shatter if he drops me. My back meets the wall, the robe I wear barely covering me as Nixon meets my heated gaze. Just as he lowers his lips to meet mine, I pull away, ducking from under his arms as I escape his hold. Taking his hand, I pull him along, knowing that soon he will have to go back to work and I will be expected to at least visit the pack. As for university, I will attend one an hour away, community an hour every day for now; however, Nixon speaks of buying a place in that city so I won't have to drive and he will be close by. He wants to move out of the town anyway, he wants to relocated the building where his office is kept for his pack. The pack land is located halfway between the town and the city where my university is located. It won't make much of a difference except for some pack members will have to drive further to speak with their Alpha. As for moving, I am for it, wanting to escape the town where my family still lives.
We head down the stairs, Nixon following quickly behind as I open the sliding door to the beach. Walking down the steps of the balcony, my feet dig into the sand and the wind blows the robe I wear all over. Nixon grabs me, holding me close as I enjoy the mist of the salt water. Taking in a deep breath, I turn around to face Nixon, a smile spreading across my face as he mirrors the expression. I enjoy the sand, the wind, the oncoming storm as I know it will be loud through the night. As the thunder sounds in the distance, I pull Nixon close for a kiss, arms wrapping around his neck as I hoist myself up, on my tiptoes as I enjoy the solitude we have given ourselves along a private beach.
As the rain begins, we find ourselves back in the house, the power having gone off as we light the fireplace. I lay down upon a Persian rug, Nixon sitting on the couch as I focus on the rise and fall of my chest, enjoying the sound of the crackling fire. My eyes begin to shut, only for movement to occur as Nixon takes ahold of my hand, housing me up and onto his lap as he sits back down on the couch. His eyes begin to drop, but I move my fingers, undoing the robe as his eyes jerk open. He watches as the robe falls to the floor and I straddle him, sitting up tall as my lips meet the crook of his neck. He has marked me yet I have no way to do so. Nixon has told me that the only mark he needs from me is the assurance that I am his as I bear his mark.
My fingers move to his shirt, unbuttoning the shirt as I push it off of his shoulders and have him sit back and relax as I focus on him tonight. I focus on him as the thunder is overhead, shaking the house as soon enough we are joined as one and I'm throwing my head back, speaking his name in a tone that only makes him want more. Soon enough we are off of the couch, finding use of almost every furniture object we can find as the night carries on, my voice turning hoarse as I only want more. More and more as my thirst only grows.
As the storm passes and soon the sun rises, I find myself waking up in his arms on the couch from where we started. My body aches as I move, signs of the night everywhere as I do not feel afraid, but wanting more nights like the one just finished. Looking to the doorway to the hall, silk ropes hang from the frame, winkled as my wrists still feel the silk against them, the sensations that coursed through my body as I told him I was his over and over, screaming his name, spelling it out as I wanted more. Like I once said, we hate vanilla, we enjoy the passion and anger we put into those acts, allowing us to balance the demons that lay within us, wanting to lash out and claim our every action.
Looking to Nixon, my stomach twists and turns into knots, how I am still on him, rested as he still sleeps. My eyes glance away, to the kitchen table, the table moved three feet from its original position as I did not think it possible for such a sturdy piece of furniture. As for the rooms upstairs, the bookshelves no longer hold books, his office floor is trashed around the desk, his laptop on the floor, papers scattered everywhere, and chair on the other side of the desk. Maybe tonight was too much? No. It was not enough. I still need to get things out of my system, to release all of that stress and anxiety. I've become intoxicated just like he said would happen when we first met.
Paintings once hung from the walls perfectly are either crooked or upon the wooden floor, no sign of mercy as I lean back on the couch and grab my robe still located in the same place. Our plane will leave in two hours, meaning I had better awaken the Alpha.
As Nixon is soon helping me pack up, he says a maid will tend to the house, leaving a massive tip for her on the coffee table of the living room, the only innocent location we could think of. As I slide into the shower and get ready for the flight back, Nixon only joins, explains that the next week will include shopping for a new house in the city. We will be creating a new home soon, one away from the troubles as we are free.
"Ready?" Nixon asks me as I finish changing and dry my hair. Nodding, I finish up, heading out of the room and down the stairs to find his car parked outside and all loaded up. Taking my hand, we head for the car, Nixon helping me in as my pace has become slower due to the soreness present. As I slide into the seat, Nixon runs around to the drivers side, hopping in as he starts the car. Driving off, I watch as the cute little town fades away and we soon pull up beside his jet. The pilot greets us, bowing his head respect as a flight attendant greets us, having us follow her as she asks for drink orders. Nixon gets some whisky and I stick to water, wanting to sleep for the long flight ahead. As we get our drinks, the flight attend leaves us alone to the massive space, my body sliding down into the couch as I shut my eyes.
What has become of the life I once dreamt of? Colorado for college, a degree in physics, and no distractions. How did all of this happen? Sure, family life has never been the best, but how did this year make everything I once held dear just vanish out of thin air. How did I chose Nixon? Am I addicted to him, to a male who is older than me and may get a little too rough? Why does he want me, a girl who is young. What did he even see in me besides us being mates? How did all of this happen? How did he enter my life and take over it?
Opening my eyes, I watch as Nixon pulls out a spare laptop, typing away as I see charts of profits from his job. Emily once told me he was bad news. I ignored her, pushing her away as I have done to many. Emily told me Nixon was not to be trusted, that nothing good could come of this. This, this relationship of sorts between a werewolf and human, an older man and a younger girl, and one where we are either fighting or like this, silent as we enjoy the quiet company. Did I make the right decision? What if I would have walked to my family? Taylor and I would be at each others necks by now, mother ignoring me, and father at arms length. With Nixon I am given the attention needed to even feel like I am wanted in the same room. Did I make the right choice? I believe so, but he put me against my family. He told me it was either him or them, and I picked him...I picked Nixon Maxwell.
Sitting up in my seat, I cannot even lightly doze off as my thoughts are everywhere. "Stop thinking," Nixon breaks the silence, looking to me. "I can sense it, how you're thinking over and over and it's wearing you out." I watch as he opens a new screen on the computer, his email up as I simply just sit by. "Lily?" I look up, meeting his gaze. "Just relax."
Relax I do, closing my eyes once more as I know I am overthinking what I have done...am I? This was a massive decision and it cannot be stressed about enough. It's strange as well, how I no longer try and hide the fact from my parents of seeing Nixon, how I no longer lie over and over, but now that thrill is gone and everything is okay. I can sleep beside him and not have a fear of my family finding out, I can go out with him in public and not fear classmates seeing us. Some classmates used to gossip over what affair I was in, some thinking that it was a father of someone at the school while others would say I was just a sugar baby wanting attention. They were wrong. I know that they were wrong because they knew nothing of what was going on behind closed doors. The night Nixon took me into his office and I didn't have to break in, I knew and still know it is a sign of trust. He trusts me enough that he would open that private door I've never seen him enter not exit. Nixon likes to keep to himself, I have known that for what seems like years.
As my eyes shut and I drift off to sleep, I quickly wake up to Nixon shaking me awake, telling me we have arrived back. There's something wrong though. Looking out the window, I raise an eyebrow as black SUVs make a circle around the plane, men dressed in black beside their car as I look to Nixon. "What's going on?" I ask, worry in my tone as Nixon helps me to my feet, the flight attendant grabbing our bags as the plane door opens and the stairs are extended for our exit. "Who-
I watch as one male hops out of a different car, one I would expect Nixon to own based off of the brand and luxury. The male holds a certain appearance to him, those golden eyes, chocolate brown hair, and height that Nixon could match. "Who is that?" I ask, looking to Nixon as he takes ahold of my hand, pulling me close.
"Alpha King Zion. He's here due o the current war. This should not take long," Nixon informs, the two of us walking down the stairs and to the concrete ground to greet the King. Nixon barely bows his head, walking to the male that towers over me. I follow, looking around to see if Sybil is around. If he is her fiancé than she may have come here. Or maybe this male also loves to work in secrecy. "Zion, to what do I owe this pleasure? I hear you are to be married this week." So Sybil is finally tying the knot with this man.
"Yes, Sybil is happy," King Zion replies, his eyes glancing at me as something seems off. Nixon says this is the male that slept with his wife and drove her insane. Nixon planes all of their problems pretty much on this one male that he can do nothing about. "I just wanted to check on the Alpha of the Kingdom's strongest pack."
"I am fine," Nixon snaps.
"And who is this little human? The new edition to-
"This is Lily," Nixon interrupts, not letting an insult come to the surface as I hold onto Nixon's hand tighter.
The King nods, looking back to Nixon as his bodyguards still just watch us. "I was unable to reach you for the past week so I decided to fly on only to find out that Alpha Nixon has escaped for the week when war is underway."
"We needed an escape," Nixon explains, holding his head high as I grow even more nervous. "I am sure you understand, as you and Lady Sybil have taken many escapes from the world." King Zion nods, looking once more to me as a type of emotion can be seen, one that makes me uncomfortable. Fear is held within his eyes as well as pity. Fear and pity aimed at me as it makes my chest grow heavy. It makes me uncertain of what could happen today. "I will be off, Nixon, to let you tend to your...woman." My lips form a firm line.
"Fly safe," Nixon says through gritted teeth as I watch the bodyguards hop back into their cars and the King simply tilt his head to the side. "I shall see you on the battlefield soon," Nixon adds as the King simply nods his head.
As Nixon pulls me close, the King looks to us. "It is just a matter of which battlefield we meet on now, isn't it?" I do not like what he says. "Keep your mistress safe, Nixon, for bad things happen in the night."
The King is gone, leaving us to ourselves as I can tell Nixon is furious. He is wanting to tear that male apart. Sybil was sweet and kind, how could she be with this horrid male that holds a second tone with every word. "Nixon..." I trail off, looking to his eyes as I find my hand letting go of his."
"Do not fret, the Alpha King is just some mutt, all bark and no bite. I will look after you, Lily, if it is the last thing I do."
<><>
The moonlight floods the house tonight through every window. The room is lit up in the pale light, the dark floors appearing like a black abyss, the glass reflecting the light, and causes the Alpha to appear like a ghost. He sits on his chair, before the mahogany desk, the bookshelves behind me making an excellent solid to lean against, and the room is silent. Nixon stares at the screen from his laptop, working away as a simply coffee mug sits beside him, empty as a new one is in one of his hands. He hasn't slept for a day since we returned, isolating himself within these four walls of a office, living here as I am left to worry. Every since the Alpha King talked to us, we have been different. Rather than laying next to one another or playing the piano, we give one another lengthy stares or simply just make our way around the house with barely any noise. Taking in a deep breath, I push off of the bookshelf, deciding to at least do something about what is going on as I walk to Nixon. Taking the empty coffee cup, I stand beside him, looking out the window to the backyard as my back is to his laptop. Looking slightly over my shoulder, I see his muscles tense through the fabric of his shirt and his hair an untamable mess.
I set the mug down, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, resting my head upon his shoulder as I can feel Nixon relax under my touch. Nixon leans back in his chair, closing his laptop as he moves his head to the side, giving my temple a soft kiss as I close my eyes. "I want you to be happy," I whisper, opening my eyes to look ahead of the room before me. "Just take a break tonight, just sleep and come back to this work when you've rested and not hyped on caffeine."
Nixon pushes my arms away softly, swirling his leather chair around to face me as his hands land lightly upon my hips. He gently pulls me between his legs, me standing before him as I block the moonlight, the beams of light outlining my figure. "And I want you to be happy as well," he whispers, meeting my eyes as I offer him a gentle smile. Nixon gets to his feet, taking his empty coffee mug, heading out of the room as I follow in pursuit. Down the stairs and into the main hallway, Nixon heads for the kitchen and I for the piano room as I examine the white piano polished to perfectionist standards. Taking a seat on the bench, I lightly press down on a few notes, a darker tune playing from the beautiful instrument as I hear a few glasses clinking together in the kitchen. As I play another cord, Nixon enters the room, a slender bottle of alcohol in his hand, two shot glasses in the other as I pull back from the keys. "Drink?" He asks, setting the shot glasses down on the piano as he opens the expensive bottle. I nod, watching as the clear liquid enters each small glass, put back down as he hands me a glass.
"And what do we cheer to?" I ask, inspecting the glass, the material it is made of as Maxwell is engraved into the side of the glass.
Nixon cocks his head to the side, leaning against the piano as I watch his eyes scan over my figure. "To us. We are toasting to us."
"I'll drink to that," I add, the two of us raising our glasses, taking down the shot swiftly as the alcohol burns my throat. Strong but needed is the alcohol we have just taken. Nixon takes a seat beside me on the bench, looking to the garden as I wonder what he has in mind for the night. As I am about to get to my feet, Nixon takes my arm, holding me down as he pulls me into his warmth. A kiss is placed upon the corner of my mouth, Nixon running a hand through my freshly washed hair, taking my chin with his other hard as he moves my face. Lips are upon mine and I find myself leaning down on the bench, the cold marble soon against my back as Nixon looks down at me, eyes hooded.
"Play me a song, just one, a passionate one," he requests, backing away from me as I agree, thinking through the library of music stored within my head. Getting back up, I turn to the piano, feet on the pedals, and fingers upon the ivory as I pinpoint a song that has all he requests. Nixon moves seats to a couch that overlooks the room, his eyes upon me as I play the first cord. My body moves with the music, eyes closing every so often as I hit the notes perfectly. They noted do not drag on, rather becoming sharp as I make it to the end, the emotion of hate and anger present within the song as the composer intended. I play the keys loud, no pedal needed as the notes come off a harsh. The tune chances eventually, one where the notes drag on yet are powerful, the composer's emotions and thoughts expressed in perfected playing, and soon enough, the song ends and I don't notice how Nixon stands behind me, having watched me play the last few notes.
"Magnificent," he comments, breathless, and taking a seat beside me once again as I look over my shoulder to see Oliver's house across the yard and guarded by a brick fence. I haven't been there for months is what it feels like. After all, I've found myself with that to almost everyone I once spoke and laughed with. Nixon's fingers move to my hair, pushing the locks behind my shoulders as the take the straps of my shirt, pushing them down as I do not do anything but sit and try to control my rapid breathing. Lips brush across my collarbone, fingers wrapping around my thigh as I simply roll my head, allowing Nixon to have more room as his lips press soft kisses along my collarbone. He moves his hands, taking the hem of my shirt as its discarded across the room, his eyes hungry as his fingers trace lines upon my spine. Goosebumps erupt upon my skin, shivers running through my body as Nixon holds control over everything I feel, how he gives me ways to express myself and for him to tease.
"Lily," he whispers, drawing my attention as a hand of his makes it way back to my thigh where only jean shorts cover a bit of my legs. "Tell me you are mine."
"I'm yours," I inform, feeling his teeth pick my skin upon my neck, just right next to his mark as he tempts me. He tempts me with a sin that we have committed so often that it has become second nature. "I am yours."
I'm hoisted up, the lid of the piano set down as he lays me across it, my legs dangling over the edge as his lips meet mine with raw passion. My arms circle around his neck and I scoot myself closer to his warmth, holding him close as I want more. He has become an addiction. He has become my drug and I fear one day an overdose may be my downfall. Clothes gone within seconds and we hold each other close, our eyes locked as we join. I fight the urge to throw my head back and break eye contact, the intimate stares we offer the other what keeps us going on and on like animals as I find my toes curling and his eyes darkening with a deadly desire.
Soon enough the piano is gone and I rest my head upon his chest, the clock ticking in the distance as we lay still. The fireplace crackles and I watch as the flames duel, dancing deadly as I take in a deep breath. Nixon is still beneath me, his eyes locked upon the same show of fire as I gently push myself up from his body. The couch may be comfy, but the moon seems to call to me tonight. The moon, the symbol of wolves, appears to call to me tonight, a human. Grabbing a knitted blanket, I get to my feet, heading for the backyard as I know no one will be able to see my state of nudity covered by a blanket. The fences here are tall for a reason besides just isolation and break ins. I stand before the massive pool, inches away from meeting the heated water as I watch the moon.
Nixon has joined me, standing beside me as he takes the blanket, throwing it onto a lounge chair. Taking my hand, he pulls me close, a kiss upon my temple as we soak in the moonlight. As he releases my hand, I meet the water, Nixon having pushed me in. Surfacing, I find him beside me, grabbing my waist as he pulls me to the shallow end where he can stand. Pushing me against the smooth wall of the expensive pool, he meets my gaze, pushing into my fragile body as my head falls back and my nails lightly scratch the surface of his toned back. We are free now from secrecy. My parents no longer are to be worried about as our nights will never be called to an end shortly, but I will learn to get used to this. Not learn, for that makes it sound like one dreaded chore, but I will soon grow accustomed to the fact that we are free and no longer have to quit. We are together now, no longer having to worry, for I have picked Nixon.
The night goes on, and as the morning comes, I awaken from the bed, sliding off the covers as I head to take a shower. As I change for the day, Nixon has just woken up, explains that he has to finish his work today and I nod in understanding. Soon these free nights will turn to days of study and work. I expect this, for reality to hit and for us to still carry on though, but more to occupy our lives. As Nixon gets ready and freshens up, I head downstairs to make a personal breakfast, enjoying it within the next ten minutes as Nixon comes down for coffee. As he heads back up the stairs, I explain I will be heading into the city today to take care of some errands. Nixon nods, telling me where the keys are as I am shocked he's trusting me with a trophy of his. I left my car at my parents, knowing to take nothing with me as I already have clothes and shoes here, I will not need my car, and I will build new memories here more than ever. Nixon even handed me a black card during February.
Taking a more simple of the luxurious cars, I feel out of place as I turn on the engine and place my music on shuffle. Driving off, the drive is smooth as I head for the city, my mind busy with thoughts of last night as I try and relax my tense muscles. As I arrive, I park in a the garage of Nixon's building where the penthouse is located, placing the keys in my purse as I head out for the city. A few people from school are spotted, eyes on me as no doubt they hear the news of my moving out to be with Nixon Maxwell, a deadly sin. As I pass by those I once passed by in the halls, I no longer give a rats ass what they think as I head in for the first errand.
As I finish up and lunch time rolls around, I head into a French restaurant, taking a seat at a small booth as I rest my head back and order a familiar dish. As my stomach grumbles and my appetizer is placed before me, before I can even grab a bite, a tattooed hand beats me to it. My eyes widen as Gavin takes a seat across from me as the hate rises in my chest.
"Now, I have no idea about you, Lily, but I bet I'm fucking Taylor more efficiently than Nixon is to you."