Caged (Talented Saga) Read Online Free Page B

view obstructed by his massive frame, rubbing my forehead and waiting for him to introduce me.
    “Director McDonough,” a deep voice greeted him respectfully. I froze. The morning was relatively warm, and the thin sweatshirt that I was wearing had caused sweat to dot my forehead and upper lip, but that voice raised gooseflesh on my arms and made the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
    My heart raced, images flashed through my mind: fingers light as feathers on my arms, running up my sides, blue eyes so full of longing and desire, soft lips against mine, wind whipping wet hair in my face, glass shards spraying my cheeks, the taste of blood in my mouth, a big hand gripping both my small, blood covered, ones. Stay with me, Tal, stay with me , his voice pleaded in my head.
    I wasn’t entirely sure where that last image had come from, but the other memories were traumatic enough that I didn’t dwell, on it. I was torn between two overwhelming desires – one was to run all the way back to Mac and Gretchen’s house, bury my face in my pillows, and cry myself to sleep; the second was to attack, viciously assault the boy standing not twenty feet from me.
    “Donavon,” Mac replied, “I have your new assistant,” he paused briefly, “ You , of course, know Natalia Lyons.” Mac stepped aside, exposing me to Donavon and his students. Paralyzed, I stood in place as the images swam over and over through my mind. My breathing was labored, my heart beating so fast that I thought for sure everyone could see it through my chest. Mac placed his hand on my shoulder, his touch bringing me back to the present. I tried to smile as I glanced at the seated students, hoping that I looked nervous, but not unstable, which is exactly how I felt.
    Finally when I couldn’t put it off any longer, I looked directly at Donavon. He was tall like his father, his shoulders broad, body lean, the muscles in his arms and chest were clearly visible through his thin navy t-shirt. His own gray sweatpants were slung low on his narrow hips. His blue eyes looked as shocked as I felt, his shaggy dark blonde hair was messy, like he’d only run his hand through it when he got out of bed that morning. His normally generous mouth appeared thin, his lips pressed together as if he were desperately trying to keep something inside. He was just as beautiful as I remembered, and the feelings swelling up inside of me were just as dark as I remembered.
    When Donavon’s gaze met mine, the primal urge to strike him was so strong that I had to fight to maintain control. A low guttural growl escaped my pursed lips as a light breeze kicked up, the air around me grew cold and clouds began to gather overhead. Mac’s grip on my shoulder tightened painfully. The wind became stronger and a raindrop splashed my cheek. Mac’s fingers bit into my flesh, his nails digging in so hard that I thought for sure they’d torn my sweatshirt. The pain reeled in my rage; the winds died down and the sky slowly cleared. The whole scene occurred in mere seconds.
    “Instructor McDonough,” I hissed through tightly clenched teeth. I tried to give Donavon my most angelic smile, but I could tell from the thoughts he was projecting that I looked slightly crazed.
    Confident that I wouldn’t maim his son – start a natural disaster – Mac’s grip on my shoulder released. “I’ll check on you later in the day, Natalia.”
    I nodded, so furious at him for springing Donavon on me like this that I didn’t trust myself to speak. He gave a short wave to the class and a nod towards Donavon. “Stop by and see me soon, son.”
    Donavon gave his father an easy smile. “You got it, Dad.”
    With that, Mac turned and left me to face his son alone. But I couldn’t move; my feet felt as if they were stuck in quicksand.
    “Talia, please have a seat. I’m going to demonstrate the skills that we’ll be working on today, and then we’ll break off into pairs to work on them,” Donavon said