Deception (15 page)

Layla’s moist gaze shifted to the door as she pulled his shirt to her chest, catching a whiff of his earthy scent – leather and cedar and soft amber.

“Will you be visiting with him?” Morrigan asked. “Or should I tell him to leave?”

“No,” Layla blurted. Then she bit her lip and looked down.

Morrigan laughed and grabbed a pair of panties off the vanity, passing them over as well. “Your desire is clear, Layla. Despite your fears, Quinlan is already part of your bouquet. It’s time to stop contemplating his departure and start embracing the reason he’s there. He makes you happy, sweetie. Let him.”

Layla nodded, doing her best to let her grandma’s advice soak in, and Morrigan gave her another kiss before heading for the door.

“Goodnight, sweetie. Try to get some rest.”

“Goodnight,” Layla returned, offering a half-hearted smile. Her energy level was nil.

Morrigan left, and Layla magically dried her hair while dressing in Quin’s t-shirt, nervous about facing him, but anxious to see his face.

When she entered the bedroom, she found him sitting on the side of their blanketed hill. The bedding had been changed, he wore a clean pair of pajama pants, and his chest was cleansed of vomit and healed of scratches.

He looked up, and she met his shiny gaze before dropping hers to the floor and walking forward.

“Did Morrigan heal your head?” he asked, folding his hands in his lap.

“Yeah,” Layla answered, sitting beside him.

A tense moment of silence passed as he rested his elbows on his knees and pressed his forehead to his palms. Then he straightened and looked at her. “I can’t erase my past, Layla. It breaks my heart to hurt you, but I can’t undo what I’ve done or deny who I’ve done it with. Those things are behind me, but they’re a part of my history I can’t change.”

“I know,” she whispered, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “I wouldn’t want you to. They shaped who you are.”

He tilted his head, and she could tell he’d expected her to challenge him, but she had no intention of punishing him for Finley’s misdeed.

Keeping his fingers locked in his lap, he shifted, pulling one leg on the bed so he could face her. “No matter how many lovers are in my past, there’s only one in my future, and I will never betray you by bringing another into the picture. You could walk out on me and never come back, and I’d still devote my life to erasing your fears. If a lifetime is what it takes to earn your trust and prove my commitment to you, that’s what I’ll give.”

She met his shiny stare, her lips trembling as her heart stuttered. “What you’re offering is what I want most, no matter how selfish it feels or how scared I am to take it.”

She watched his burden lessen – his chest and shoulders rising as his aura picked up speed. His fingers broke apart, slowly stretching toward her, and she met him halfway, taking the back of his hand and laying her cheek in his palm. Her lungs emptied. Then they refilled with a gasp as she closed the curtains on tears.

His sigh feathered her hair as he scooted close and took her face in both hands, and a sob burst from her clogged throat. “I’m sorry, Quin. I’m sorry I made you feel like you can’t touch me.”

“Ssh…” he whispered, kissing her forehead, nose and lips. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I do. It was wrong for me to make you feel that way.”

“It wasn’t your fault, and you’re letting me hold you now. That’s all that matters.”

She slid her hands into his hair, struggling to catch her breath. “I don’t ever want you to let go.”

“I won’t,” he assured, pulling her onto his lap.

She buried her face in his neck, riding the unstoppable wave of another crying binge, and he hugged her close while stroking her hair. By the time the tears ran dry and her lungs settled, she could barely keep her swollen lids open.

“I’m sorry I threw up on you,” she whispered, her muscles melting in his warm embrace.

He leaned her back and magically soothed her eyelids with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t be. It’s the least of my worries.”

“It’s gross,” she mumbled, her long lashes falling over emeralds.

Quin opened his mouth to respond, but she was already asleep, her aura settling into a peaceful flow. He sighed as he watched her face, grateful he had access to the stunning view, however short-lived it may be. Then he lay back on the pillows and tucked her in beside him, falling asleep with his lips in her hair.

Chapter 10

Quin awoke to Layla's aura gaining speed, and he threw a glance at the clock, hoping she’d gotten a decent stretch of peaceful rest. Noon had come and gone, so he relaxed and kissed her head. “Good morning, love. Any more bad dreams?”

“Don't you think you’d know if I had another nightmare?” she replied. “The first one wasn’t exactly subtle.”

She was in a bad mood. And who the hell could blame her?

He took a deep breath and wrapped her in a hug. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she mumbled. Then she kissed his chest and rolled away. “I need a shower.”

She slid off the hill and shuffled to the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and Quin struggled to fill his lungs as he watched her go. She’d taken a bath after her nightmare, so he knew it wasn’t dirt and grime she was washing away.

Layla touched the crown of her head as she turned on the shower, making sure there wasn’t any soreness from her collision with the footboard. Then she stripped down and eased under the spray. Bathing wasn’t necessary, but she was in a pissy mood and hoped the hot water would ease her tension.

As she reached down to vanish a day’s worth of stubble – a convenience millions of hexless would pay through the nose for – Quin’s voice echoed through the bathroom. “Layla?”

She straightened and raised an eyebrow at the curtain between them. He’d never walked into the bathroom while she was showering. “Is everything okay?” she asked, moving out from under the water.

“Yes,” he answered. “Well, no, not really.”

Something in his voice struck her as odd. Not the sadness, which made sense given their predicaments; but the nervousness, which didn’t make any sense given his confidence. “What's wrong, Quin?”

A long moment of silence passed before he answered. “I don’t like how you’re feeling right now.”

“I'll be fine,” she returned. “Is that why you're in here? To tell me that?”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Not necessarily, but I’d like to know why you came in.”

“I want to make you feel better.”

Her heart softened. “You do, Quin. All the time.”

“Not right now.”

“I'm in a bad mood. I’m sorry.”

“Don't be sorry, love. I was just trying to figure out a way to cheer you up.”

“Did you?”

“A few things came to mind, but…” He paused, and Layla once again noticed the uncharacteristic nervousness.

“But what?” she urged.

“I'm not sure you'd appreciate them,” he answered.

She pouted and looked down. “I appreciate everything you do for me.”

“I know you do, angel. That's not what I meant.”

Tired of talking through the curtain, she poked her wet head out and found him. He’d changed into a pair of shorts and was leaning against the vanity, and his hands were tucked in his pockets as he stared at the floor. Layla hadn’t seen him put his hands in his pockets since the night she met him, so his stance struck her as odd as his voice.

“Hey,” she said, trying to put some oomph into it.

He looked up, smiling when he found her eyes. “Hey back.”

“Stop worrying about me,” she insisted. “I'll be okay.”

He pulled his hands from his pockets and straightened from the vanity. “Are you uncomfortable with me in here?”

“No, but you look uncomfortable.”

“I’m worried.”

“About what?”

“Crossing a line.”

She smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Are there any lines left?”

He stepped forward and touched his fingertips to her lips. “A few.”

“Well you're not crossing any right now.”

He took one more step, and his palm slid to her cheek, tilting her head back for a kiss. “You look beautiful,” he whispered.

“I'm all wet,” she countered.

He raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Exactly.”

Despite her sour mood, a smile twitched the corners of her lips. “You do make me feel good, Quin.”

“You're still not as happy and warm as usual.”

Her mouth fell open. “You think I'm being cold?”

“I didn’t say that. I said you’re not as warm as usual.”

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, dropping her gaze, but he tilted it back up, shaking his head as he leaned close.

“Don’t be sorry. Just let me fix it.”

His lips parted hers with a soft kiss, and magical warmth rushed her veins as magical tingles slithered over moist flesh. Her muscles vibrated as her blood pumped faster, and goose bumps stretched from her scalp to her toes.

She swayed as his mouth stilled. Then she opened her eyes and smiled. “Do it again.”

Dimples framed his tempting lips as he moved in for a much longer kiss, and each sweep of his tongue delivered a dose of soothing heat and arousing electricity. Layla twitched and shivered every time the magic hit, and her pulse strengthened, playing rhythm on her eardrums.

Her fingers tightened on the shower curtain. Then she forgot she held it and let the material fall away. Her palms found his chest, and he stepped closer, taking the back of her neck in one hand and her waist in the other. His fingers squeezed as he pulled her against him, his lips shooting bewitching thrills down her spine, and her hands trembled, her nipples growing firm against his abdomen.

Holy hell, he was good. Bad mood? What bad mood? She was cured.

Her lungs quickened, so she pulled away from his lips, gasping at the ceiling as his mouth skimmed her jaw. He licked her throat, mixing in another shot of magic. Then he kissed the curve of her collarbone, turning her muscles to jelly.

“Quin . . . ”

He moved his lips to her ear and softly took the lobe in his teeth. “Hmm?”

A natural tingle shot down her neck, and she clutched his shoulders, her breathing shallow and spasmodic. “You're… driving me… crazy.” She expected him to ease up and let her breathe, but her murmur brought about the opposite reaction, like she’d flipped open the gate at a rodeo, or waved the flag at a race.

He slid his hands to her butt, stretching his fingers over bare cheeks. Then he grasped and picked her up. She sharply inhaled, eyes bugging as he stepped over the edge of the tub. Then she about swallowed her tongue when he pressed her against the shower wall. His hands moved to the backs of her thighs, his fingers curling into the crack between them. Then he pulled out and up, dragging tender flesh over the stretched material of his shorts.

Her lungs emptied with a yelp, which would have embarrassed her, but she doubted he heard it. His lips were at her ear, vibrating over the groan rumbling from his chest.

Oh god and everything heavenly. He was about to take her and she was dying for him to do it.

Magic swelled around her thighs, keeping her afloat as he moved a hand to her face. Then he leaned back and found her gaze. His was on fire, his lips twitching with a salacious smile.

She couldn’t smile back or speak. All she could do was look at him with wide eyes and a swollen throat, her pout pulsing in time with his growing arousal.

He leaned in, licking her lips as he took her left breast in his palm. Then he looked down, bringing her nipple erect with his thumb. A squeak skipped from her throat into his ear, and she shifted her hips forward, trying to feel more of him.

His chest shuddered, and the hand on her cheek dropped to her waist, pushing her back until her butt was against the wall. She lost her breath as cool air swept between her legs. Then her lungs roughly refilled when he knelt, his hard torso gliding down her quivering thighs.

Water splashed over his back as his mouth drew even with her breasts, and she curled her fingers in his damp hair, watching his tongue flick moisture from her nipple before sucking it in. She bit her lip, trying not to scream or hyperventilate as a scorching thrill shot from his mouth to the flesh swelling between her thighs.

Enveloping her hips in his hands, he shifted his magic, forcing her to straighten her legs. Then his mouth left her breasts, trailing down her stomach to the crease between her thigh and pubic bone. She twitched, and he paused, flattening his tongue over hot flesh. Then he softly kissed before centering his head.

Unable to breathe, Layla watched as he helped himself to a close-up of the most intimate part of her body. He drifted his fingers over bare skin, dipping his thumb into the tight v between her legs. Then he took her by the thighs and pulled her to his mouth. His tongue flicked, flattened then sucked. Then he gently pulled her into his teeth.

“Oh god,” she breathed, and his teeth let her go, but his tongue stretched into folds of flesh and curled, emerging with a pool of moisture. He quietly groaned as he took it into his mouth, his eyes drifting shut. Then he grasped her knees and lifted, forcing her thighs apart while burying his face between them.