Opposition (Lux 5)

My knees went weak when he dropped his cheek to the top of my head and somehow managed to hold me closer.

God, I loved Daemon. I was in love with him as much as I had been the very first time I recognized what that burning sensation was, what that almost electric shock every time we touched meant.

It was hard looking back and thinking about all the time we’d wasted fighting what was between us, fighting each other, especially when the future looked appallingly short, but I couldn’t focus on that now, because we were together. It didn’t matter how many hours, days, months, or years we had stretched out in front of us; we’d always be together.

This kind of love was the real deal, stronger than a whole planet full of psycho aliens and an entire government.

We stood together for a long time, wrapped around each other, before we actually made good use of the shower—good, appropriate use of the shower. But bathing with Daemon was like . . . well, bathing with Daemon. We finally climbed out, dried off, and changed into the sweats and oversize cotton shirts, which weren’t so oversized on Daemon. The white shirt stretched taut over his shoulders, followed each dip of his abs. My skin was overly sensitive even though there’d been no shenanigans going down in the bathroom.

I’d found a comb and sat in the middle of the bed untangling all the knots, while Daemon turned on the TV, settling on a news station. Tossing the remote onto the foot of the bed, he sat behind me.

He took the comb from my fingers. “Let me do this.”

I made a face but sat still as he started to work the comb through my hair. I glanced at the TV, saw another city in ruins, and then looked away. I didn’t want to think about that, because I didn’t know where my mom was or how my friends back home were faring during all of this.

Daemon was surprisingly apt at combing out the knots. “Is there anything you can’t do?” I asked.

He laughed. “You know the answer to that.”

I grinned.

Once he was finished with my hair, I felt the edge of the comb poke me in the lower back. Brows raised, I glanced over my shoulder at him. “What?”

He leaned in, kissing me softly. The edges of his damp hair brushed my cheeks as he slanted his head, deepening the kiss until my heart was pounding.

I placed my hand over his chest, above his heart, and felt it match the rhythm of my own. My gaze lifted, and our eyes met. Somehow we ended up stretched out across the bed, my back curled against his front.

“I’m not finished healing you,” he said, voice gruff. His fingers trailed around a tender spot along my temple.

I closed my eyes, letting him do what he wanted. After all, it made him feel better. But the healing warmth slowly turned into something else when the tips of his fingers slipped down my arm, under my shirt, and across my stomach. There was nothing between his skin and mine.

“You’ve been using the Source a lot.” His hand flattened against my lower stomach, his pinkie finding a way under the loose band on my sweats. “It’s had to have worn you out.”

Another finger traveled under the band, and I wasn’t sure I was that worn out. My entire consciousness was focused on his hand—the weight and warmth of it, the exact positioning.

“Kitten?”

“Hmm?”

His voice was deep and smooth. “Just seeing if you’d passed out on me.”

“I’d never do such a thing.”

He was quiet for a moment. “You know what I’ve been thinking?”

With him, it was anyone’s guess. “What?”

“I was thinking about when all of this is over, where we are going to go.” Half of his hand was under the band now. “What we are going to do.”

“You have any idea?”

“I have lots of ideas.”

A hot, sweet feeling swept over me. “I bet you do.”

Daemon chuckled as his thumb moved in a slow, idle circle under my navel. “I was thinking college.”

“You think there’ll be colleges around after all of this?”

“I think so.”

The tips of two fingers delved low, causing my breath to catch. “Why do you think that?”

“Easy answer.” He dropped a kiss on my cheek. “If you’ve taught me anything, it’s that humans are resilient, more so than my kind. No matter what, they’ll keep forging on. So I can’t believe that there won’t be colleges and jobs or anything like that.”

My lips curved into a small smile as I decided to play along. “College would be good, I think.”

“I think you mentioned University of Colorado before,” he said, his fingers creeping farther south, causing the muscles in my lower stomach to clench. “What about that?”

I remembered the first time we’d talked about the university, and I’d been so worried that I’d been overstepping relationship lines. Seemed like forever ago. “I think that’s perfect.”

“I’m sure Dawson and Beth would like it there.” He paused. “So would Dee.”

“Yeah, she would.” Especially if Archer would be around, but then, we kind of needed to get Dee’s head on straight first. “Maybe . . . maybe I could get my mom to move out there, too.”

“Of course,” he murmured, and I bit down on my lip hard enough to taste blood as he managed to get his knee between mine. “Your mom has to be there, because we’re going to do it.”

My eyes widened. “Uh, I’m not sure that’s something I want my mom to be a part of.”

Daemon’s laugh tickled me. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Kitten. We’re going to do a real wedding. The whole thing—bridesmaids, best man, the pretty white gown, and the ceremony. Even a reception. Everything.”