Trapping Quincy

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Chapter 16 - Charming Trouble

“Are you ready to be devoured, my love?”

He leans in closer until he’s almost on top of me and my knees grow weak. Do I want to get devoured by this sexy creature? My traitorous inner voice and hormone are yelling “yes, please”.

His handsome arrogant face shows that he’s confident that I’m just going to melt into a puddle at his feet like so many other women before me. Just like that, he’s pissing me off again. How can you be turned on and pissed off at the same time? Well, that straightened my resolve. I am not going to be one of those women.

“No,” I say as I slap my hands flat on his chest. It’s solid hard and I feel his muscles flex under my palm. “You’re like a little kid. You can’t stay serious for five minutes, can you?” I tell him even though my heart feels like it’s about to explode in my chest.

That stupid, sexy, naughty grin on his lips only grows wider.

His hand is braced against the wall behind me. He tilts his head sideways and leans in like he’s going to kiss me and I slide down my seat until I’m almost lying down on the red leather padded bench.

It’s actually hard for me to evade his kiss because I want to feel his lips on mine. I do. Too much. I have to remind myself that he might be doing this to other girls all the time.

I know if I let him, it’s not going to be just a simple kiss because I want so much more. Nothing is going to be simple between the two of us...at least not to me.

He looks down at me underneath him and chuckles. He’s toying with me like a big cat playing with their catch before they devour it. His grin is very mischievous and playful but there’s fire in his eyes. This man is trouble.

“I like this,” he says, looking at me half lying in between his legs.

“What?”

“You under me, in this position.” He has one knee bent on the seat next to my hip while another foot firmly on the floor on the other side of me. I’m in a reclining position with an elbow supporting me. His crotch is directly at my eye level.

“Really?” I lift an eyebrow, staring up at him. “You should be worried,” I tell him. “Because I bite.” I snap my teeth together. “Hard.”

My remark and action are met with silence, then he throws his head back and laughs. A beautiful, delightful sound that sends tingles down my spine.

I watch the column of his throat and his Adam’s apple move as he laughs. I never thought a man’s throat could look so sexy and delicious before.

“Don’t forget. I bite too, princess,” he reminds me, flashing his straight white teeth and those slightly prominent and sharp canines.

“I thought we’re here to talk,” I huff, trying not to remember the way his mouth and teeth felt on my skin.

I squirm to get out from under him but only manage to slide and fall off the side of the seat. He grabs my arm before I hit the ground and pulls me up back into sitting position.

He lowers himself to sit properly beside me just before the same host from earlier knocks on the glass partition and slides it open. A waiter comes in to pour some clear liquid into our glasses. “Your Vodka, sir,” he says, then he pours some water into two other glasses. After he’s done, a waitress steps in with a big oval platter filled with a variety of mouthwatering fares.

“I’ve ordered us a sampler so that you can try a little bit of everything,” he says when they’re gone and the is partition closed again.

We share everything on the tray. It’s delicious. Some food he insists on feeding me. We make small talk as we eat. He tells me that he wants to get to know me and he asks simple questions like my favorite movies, and hobbies. We tell each other about our embarrassing moments and have a good laugh at each other’s expenses. He’s funny and easy to talk to when he’s not being cocky and annoying.

“So, tell me about your family. Are they here?” I ask him.

His hand pauses in mid-air as he’s about to sip his Vodka and something flashes in his eyes. It’s very fleeting. If I wasn’t watching him so closely, I would’ve missed it. “Yes, my family is here,” he answers carefully.

“Do you live with them?”

“Yes.”

“That’s great. You must be close to your parents then,” I say. I think I hear an embarrassingly wistful note in my own voice. Really, I’m an adult now. I shouldn’t be wishing for a father and a mother who love me but sometimes I can’t help feeling envious of people with doting parents.

“Not really. My father is okay, I guess, but my mother and I...we don’t see eye to eye,” he explains. “And my parents aren’t here.”

“Oh, okay. But when you said your family is here....”

“My parents are in Russia,” he says. “Moya printsessa, blood relation doesn’t make a family. People whom I love and trust are my family.

“What about you? Tell me about your family.” he sits back and watches me.

I touch the beads of condensation formed on the surface of my glass of water and frown as I think of my family. “My Nana died almost five months ago. She raised me.” Sometimes it’s still strange and hard to say my Nana and the word died in the same sentence.

“I’m sorry, princess,” he says, gently touching my arm. “That’s very recent. The cut must still hurt very deeply.”

Yes, and I’m bleeding all over the place. My eyes sting. I don’t like to cry and I don’t want people to feel sorry for me. I blink a few times before I look up again and force a cheerful smile. “It’s okay.” I shrug. “I still have my cousins, Jonah and Jorden.” See? I’m not alone.

“Grieving is never easy. It’s a very lonely journey even when you have people in your corner.” The tone of his voice sounds sincere like he really understands. “I’m glad you have your cousins,” he says. “What about your parents?”

“Like you said, sometimes blood relation doesn’t make a family. I never knew my father. He’s a human. My mother is a werewolf.” I feel his intense heated gaze focused on my face but I keep my eyes down. My fingertip draws circles with the condensation on the glass. “My mom has a mate. She has her own family,” I add quietly.

I notice that I drew the word mom on the glass, so I quickly scratch it away.

He nods his head. “You’re a half werewolf.”

“I’m a human,” I insist.

“So, tell me, apart from werewolves, what other creatures do you know exist in this realm?” The tone of his voice sounds casual and light like we’re talking about the weather but the way he angles his body towards me tells me that he’s paying close attention to every word, every telling of my body.

“Hmmm...let’s see, there are the Fea, Sprites, Demons...”

“I said, in this realm, princess,” he says, patiently.

“Well, sometimes they escape into this realm,” I argue.

“The ones that live permanently in this realm.” Something tells me that my answer is important to him.

“Oh, I don’t know...shape shifters, incumbi?” I really don’t know. I rarely paid attention when my Nana or somebody in my old pack talked about them, mainly because I wanted nothing to do with them. They bring nothing but trouble and I had my mind set to immerse myself in the human world as soon as I could get away from there. I peer up at him from underneath my eyelashes. “So, what are you?”

He watches me with a contemplative look. As if measuring something in his mind.

When he keeps staring at me, I continue, “I don’t know, okay? Why don’t you tell me? And another thing, I know most of you have mates. So, where’s yours?” The thought of him with another girl, a mate, pisses me off. “What are you doing with me? Do you want me to be your plaything before you meet your mate? Have your fun with a stupid human girl before you can be with the one?” I ask him heatedly.

“Whoa, sweetheart,” he says, soothingly. He covers my hand that’s currently gripping a fork in a death grip with his. The touch of his warm skin on mine sends zap of electricity through my vein and I jump and try to pull my hand away. He tightens his hold, then slowly pries the fork out of my hand.

I’ve lost my weapon. “Are you worried I was going to use that to stab you in the eye?” It’s not like I’m not tempted to do that.

He doesn’t answer me. Instead, rubs his thumb on the back of my hand in a slow circle.

He leans in and whispers, “Do you feel that?” His warm breath teases my skin. The tip of his nose and his lips graze the shell of my ear. Another pleasurable jolt travels down my body. Setting my blood on fire. “Does it feel like we’re just having “fun” to you? What if you’re the one for me?”

I swear my heart just jumps out of my chest and goes flying through the roof. If I wasn’t already sitting down, my knees would buckle and I would be sprawled on the floor. “Am I?”

His thumb continues stroking the back of my hand again. “Tell me what this feels like to you, moya printsessa.” His every little touch is charging me, turning me into a live wire. Firing every neuron in my body with pleasure. Engulfing me with heat.

He should feel like a stranger to me but he doesn’t. “There’s this pull...” I try to explain.

“My soul is calling for your soul.”

“What am I?”

“The one for me. Only for me. You’re mine.”

Oh, God! My breath catches in my throat.

His green, smoldering eyes are staring deep into mine and right now I’m powerless to fight this pull. We’re leaning towards each other. Always gravitating towards each other. His hand reaches out to push the stray hair on my cheek back as if he can’t stop himself. His fingertips skim the skin of my cheek and trace my jawline and I stop breathing. My heartbeat skyrocket.

“What does that mean? Is that like a mate? Am I your mate?” There’s a tremor in my voice.

“Yes.”

Before I can utter another word, he slides his hand into my hair, cupping the back of my neck and his lips captured mine. Time stops.

His lips are soft but firm, gentle yet insistent, demanding, and possessive. He’s claiming me with his mouth. Branding me his. He’s taking, not asking. His tongue pushes through my lips to explore my mouth. When I let my tongue touch his, he lets out the sexiest moan at the back of his throat and his mouth grows more insistent and hungrier. He slants my head to deepen the kiss and slides his arm around my waist to pull me up on his lap.

Our tongues slide together, dueling and tasting. Oh, god...he tastes so good. Nothing tastes better.

I run my hands over his chest and around the back of his neck before I bury my fingers into his soft golden hair. Bursts of flame travel through my vein till I’m nothing but fire. I fear I’m going to burn to nothing but ashes in his arms.


When I was a little girl, the shadows inside my dark bedroom used to scare me. The moonlights that stole in from outside the windows on a peaceful night created shadows of monsters that moved inside my head. Stormy rainy nights with howling wind, rolling thunders, and bolts of lightning, on the other hand, calmed me down. The harsh pattering of the pouring rain against my windows lulled me to sleep. To me, the raging storm is when nature shows its true color and I loved it. I still love it.

During those peaceful nights when I was scared of the shadows, Nana would lie down next to me and sing me a soft lullaby until I fall asleep. During those stormy nights when the sound of thunder and rain lulled me to sleep, Nana would lie down beside me and claimed that she’s making sure that I wasn’t scared. I always suspected that she’s the one who was scared of the thunder and lightning. I’d like to think that we soothed each other.

Caspian reminds me of both; those peaceful nights and the stormy nights. He’s undeniably beautiful and charming, sophisticated and charismatic. True, most of the time he also seems bored with the world and oh, so arrogant. He looks like he’s above everybody. Yet the time when he looks at you with those bright green eyes makes you forget the world. His charming smile sometimes almost seems innocent and guileless. His mischievous grin most often than not resembles that of a naughty little boy. So harmless. It fools you to think he’s not the one to fear. Yet I sense that under that charm and sophistication, there's an untamed, menacing being. There is a raging storm inside him that will destroy everything on its path without mercy. I wonder if I would be scared of his true colors.

Tonight is peaceful. No thunder or lightning. I’m lying here staring at the shadows in my bedroom struggling to catch my breath just recalling those kisses.

Tonight, in that restaurant, we must have kissed for hours. His kisses turned my brain to mush. I forgot everything but his lips and his tongue and his hands on me.

I was aware of our surrounding only after he let me go. I was concerned about other people seeing us but nobody even spared us a glance.

When we made our way out of the place and walked past other booths, I understood why nobody cared. Some of those people in other booths were doing more than what we were doing. Like way more, that I had to look away in shock. Caspian didn’t seem surprised at all. He just pulled me closer to him and placed a kiss on top of my head as he casually walked us out.

I don’t recall much at all of our drive back except for his hand holding mine. I kept thinking of those kisses. My brain was fried, I think.

I do remember him asking for my phone number and pressed a quick kiss on my lips before I made my legs move to take me inside the darkened house.

Lying in my bed now, I can’t stop replaying those kisses. I’ve kissed before but Caspian’s kiss tonight made me feel like I had never been kissed before.

Everything about him confuses me. The beautiful, dangerous, and powerful creature who’s calling me his. Am I really his mate? Why me? How do I feel about this? How should I feel about this? What about my dream to live a normal human life?

I look at Layla who’s snoring softly in her bed across from mine. She was already asleep when I got home. She really is a heavy sleeper.

I wish Nana was here for me to talk to. Nana had answers to everything. She didn’t quite make sense sometimes, especially after she had too much to drink on some evenings. I wish she had answers to all my trouble and my confusion.


Adam, our manager left me a message asking me if I could come early this morning to cover for Evelyn who can’t make it. I reply yes right away. I don’t mind making extra money and I don’t have any class in the morning.

Besides, I’m trying to think straight. My head is still filled with Caspian this morning. It’s crazy. Maybe work can set my brain to work properly again.

“Hello, what would you like to drink?” I click my pen and look up at the customer who’s sitting at my table. Oh god! She’s one of them! No, no, no...

She’s the Latina. One of the beautiful girls who always hangs around him. I stand there like a frozen statue for a while. If she’s here, then he might be here too. I don’t know if I’m ready to see him yet. Well, I’m dying to see him, but then I’m not. I’m craving his kisses and his touches yet I’m dreading seeing him again. My heart feels like it’s bursting at the thought of seeing him again and I start looking around like a mad person. She must think I’m crazy.

“He’s not here,” she says, looking like she’s trying not to laugh.

“What?” Who? It takes a while for my brain to catch up. “Oh...” I say. She means him. He’s not here now. Thank god! Or maybe not. I don’t know.

She looks at me curiously. “What makes you think that he might be lurking around when you saw me here?” she asks me. Her dark brown eyes are probing like she’s trying to figure me out. There are some gleefulness and mischief hidden in their depth too.

“I saw you and your other friends with him before,” I tell her. “And you look like him.” Yeah, stunningly gorgeous...and not human.

What are they? That question keeps bugging me. He was being very evasive when I asked him that question last night. Should I ask this woman in front of me or should I wait for him to tell me himself? Will he ever tell me?

I look around to see if other people can hear us, then I lean in closer to her and whisper, “I know you’re not a werewolf, but what are you?”

“Lycan,” she whispers back.

Lycans? Oh, no no no. I feel lightheaded all of a sudden. My world tilts on its axis for a second. Of all creatures...not THAT! What have I gotten myself into?

Nana told me about lycans. They are powerful and dangerous. Vicious and barbaric. They see what they like and they just take.

God help me. This is not good. Nana wouldn’t be happy. Nana wouldn’t just turn over, but she would be rolling in her grave if she knew about this.

“You live with your Nana?” she suddenly asks me.

Huh? “No,” I say. How does she know about my Nana? Wait! Did I just talk about my Nana out loud? “Nana’s dead.”

“Oh, I see...” she says but she’s looking puzzled and tries to come up with something to say.

“Nana said lycans are dangerous,” I try to explain to her. I hope she wouldn’t get offended and claw me to death or something. “But don’t worry, I won’t judge. I’m sure not all lycans are dangerous,” I tell her...just in case.

“Oh, but we are,” she answers quickly, almost proudly with a wicked smile and that mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Well, that’s not very reassuring,” I tell her.

“So, he’s been bothering you?” she asks me, changing the subject.

“You have no idea.” Physically and mentally. Especially mentally. I think I’m going crazy.

“I’m Penny, by the way,” she says with a friendly grin as if she didn’t just tell me that she’s dangerous. She could’ve killed me with a swipe of her elegant hand that is now extended towards me.

So, okay, that’s an exaggeration since I don’t feel like I’m in any danger or at all threatened by her. “My name’s Quincy,” I tell her, taking her hand in a brief handshake.

“Hello, Malyshka,” says a very deep masculine voice beside me. Penny’s face lights up instantly. It’s amazing how her whole body seems to buzz with excitement.

*I think some of you already know what's coming up next =). My next update will be next Thursday. Have a wonderful day everybody!

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