Authors: Elizabeth Lapthorne
“You are just full of
surprises,” Blade replied as he returned the book to its place on the shelf.
“Well at least you can’t
complain of being bored,” she teased him as she rested her head against his
shoulder. Blade wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head, her
hair silky and soft against his lips.
“Never,” he vowed. “You
ready?”
“Yeah,” she agreed with a
stifled yawn. “Let’s go get some sleep. We only have a few hours ’til we’re
supposed to meet Jarred for breakfast.”
Blade let
Ange
lead him from the room and out the front door again.
The large duffel slung over her shoulder lent him the perfect excuse to get
something he’d had on his mind for a few days now.
“You keep your bag,” he
insisted as he quickly snatched the keys from her hand. “I’ll drive.”
Ange
cocked an eyebrow at him and stood
still next to the large machine.
“No wizard has driven my
bike,” she said flatly. Blade’s grin widened in delight.
“I should hope not,” he
agreed firmly before he leaned close to her to whisper enticingly, “but I’m not
just any wizard, am I?”
Ange
seemed to chew on this thought for a
moment. After what felt like an age she finally nodded her head, her bangs
falling into her eyes. “Okay,” she agreed.
Blade’s grin widened.
“Really?
Seriously?”
Ange
nodded again. “Yeah, I think so.
Damn, I really must be crazy about you.”
Blade climbed onto the
monster of a machine and started her up. A loud, low vibration rocked through
her chassis and Blade could feel the girl purr to life beneath his legs.
Pulling his helmet on he nodded to
Ange
, indicating
that she should climb up behind him, which she did.
Revving the engine Blade
knew he was enjoying this far too much and with a quick turn he let the bike
loose. They pulled away down the road, wind buffeting them, but Blade kept a
firm hand on the handlebars.
Even beneath the helmet
Blade gasped at the air racing past him as they took turn after turn with
increasing speed. The bike felt like a live entity between his legs, the act of
straddling the machine making him feel as if he were completely in control.
Power, raw and potent, surged through his blood and Blade was astonished to
find
himself
becoming erect yet again.
This time the lust was of
a completely different nature. The wildness of freedom stole his breath away.
As he pressed the engine of the bike to work harder, Blade became almost
overwhelmed by the intoxicating potency of controlling such a beast of a
machine.
The loud roar of the
engine drowned out everything. The speed and fluid ease with which he and
Ange
flew through the city streets ran like a drug through
his blood.
Ange’s
arms were warmly wrapped around him
and Blade knew for a fact that had she not been there to ground him he could
have turned the machine around and ridden clear across the entire country
without stopping for breath.
Blade had never
experienced such unadulterated joy as he did in control of this baby. He could
not believe it had taken him his whole life to not just straddle but take
control of such a beautiful machine. His love for
Ange
was deeper than he could have imagined, but sharing this experience with her
added yet another facet to their growing relationship.
Blade shouted out in
sheer joy, happiness overflowing from his heart. He took corners with dizzying
speed, pressed until the engine whined slightly in disapproval and he could
feel in his bones that he had pushed far enough, that he flirted too
dangerously close to the edge between madness and safety.
With the scent and taste
of freedom heavy in the air, Blade cherished every second he had before finally
making another quick series of turns.
They headed toward his
home and some well-earned rest.
* * * *
*
Morning—or later morning—
arrived far too quickly for Blade’s peace of mind. He woke surrounded by
Ange’s
scent, and that was possibly one of the best things
he could ever have thought to experience. Her long, soft brown hair splayed out
over the pillow and a few stray strands tickled his nose.
Their bodies curved into
each other and their legs were twined together with an intimacy that was
powerful and impossible to ignore. Blade hoped there would be an infinite
number of mornings where they both would awaken in near-identical circumstances
for years into the future.
As a
way to wake up this came very close to the top of his list.
The problem came when the bell on
his old-fashioned alarm clock rang. Blade knew the sharp ringing meant they had
less than an hour to shower, change and make it to the cafe to meet Jarred. The
bell rang on in the hush of his bedroom.
Ange
groaned, rolled over to show him the
long, delicate line of her spine and reached out a hand to try to flatten the
clock. With her eyes firmly closed she missed by a mile, which caused Blade to
snigger.
“Shut the fuck up,” she
mumbled, still only semi-conscious. Blade leaned over her, switched the alarm
off and kissed her cheek, masculine ego refusing to let him bypass such a
perfect opportunity to press his lips against her soft skin. Her evident
tiredness seemed to infuse him with a kind of playful energy that felt
completely foreign but nevertheless delightful.
Ange
grunted at his kiss, somewhere between
approval and a small growl, and she burrowed farther into her share of the
blankets. Impish, almost childish energy hummed through Blade’s body.
“We have to get going,
sweetheart,” he reminded her with another kiss to her cheek and one to the tip
of her nose. A soft mumble that could have meant almost anything was her only
response. Kissing her lips, Blade tried to convince her with seduction, but
after a moment she merely laughed and turned over again.
“If we don’t get moving
Jarred won’t hang around,” Blade wheedled with a smirk.
A “
Hrumph
”
showed her utter lack of interest in his prompting.
Blade snickered and let
one hand fall beneath the covers to palm and squeeze
Ange’s
ass. His fingers stroked over her smooth, round globes in a light caress. When
this elicited no response his fingers delved deeper, between the
crack
of her ass, until the pad of one finger managed to
stroke over the tightly puckered opening of her hidden hole.
The faint hum that
emanated from
Ange
sounded laden with curiosity and
perhaps pleasure. Whichever, Blade could not detect anything to make him think
this particular advance was unwelcome. The sounds came from deep in her throat,
a rolling tone that urged him cautiously on.
Blade explored further,
stroking his finger over and around the tight entrance. This resulted in a low,
decadently dragged out moan. From previous erotic interludes, Blade had no
doubt this particular sound expressed only the most pleasurable of sensations
in his witch.
Scooting closer to his
beloved on the bed, Blade had to admit to a whole new barrelful of curiosities.
He was intrigued despite their lack of
time,
and all
thoughts of making their brunch meeting with Jarred and an exchange of critical
data flew out of his mind. Here and now a whole new vista of potential was laid
bare before him.
Was his delightful and
bewitching
Ange
truly showing him that she was open
to anal sex? The decadent intimacy opened a completely different form of play
to that in which they had been dabbling during their recent sexual odysseys.
His finger probed gently,
but only the very faintest tip.
Ange
wriggled her
hips back enticingly, her ass grinding into his hand as not even half an inch
of his finger pressed into the tight opening.
Ange
murmured gentle encouragement, obviously willing, and Blade felt his breath
hitch and catch in his throat.
All thoughts of leaving
the bed were banished from his mind and he found himself uncaring if they
missed their rendezvous with Jarred, or a hundred other things to come.
Ange
cupped her breasts and massaged the pert peaks for a
moment as Blade continued to stroke around her tightly puckered entrance.
His mouth bone dry, Blade
weighed the options of how to take this further as he gently removed the tip of
his finger from her ass and began again to caress the furled bud.
“You sure know how to
wake a girl up,” she commented, clearly amused. Blade bent down and sucked the
lobe of her ear.
“
Mmm
,”
he muttered huskily, his voice thick with arousal and need. “And you sure know
how to distract a wizard. That ass of yours, the way you were grinding into me
as I played. It makes me glad I bought this new lube we can try out. I—”
“You know we have to make
this meeting,”
Ange
reminded him throatily.
Blade took a deep, long
breath as he realized that while his witch still held definite interest in
their lusty intimacy, now was not the time.
“I don’t see you opening
your eyes or racing me to the shower,” he purred, torn between wanting to talk
his witch into staying in bed with him and knowing their duty.
Ange
rolled over onto her back, her eyes
opening and flashing blue fire at him as she grinned widely.
“All
right
,” she
sighed
her capitulation. “I’ll get up.”
Blade attempted to paste
an innocent smile on his face, not sure the look would be very believable.
“Did I disturb your
sleep?” he teased.
Ange
grinned at him, let her hand
thread around the back of his skull to draw him down for a quick kiss.
“Disturb my sleep?” she
repeated. “Yes, you damn well did, as you well know. Disturb
me
? No, you
didn’t. I’ll grab a quick shower. You can put the coffee on.”
Blade watched as
Ange
threw the covers back and climbed from the bed. Naked
and utterly enchanting, she stretched, threw him a saucy look and padded over
to the bathroom.
“
Ange
,
we’re heading to a cafe—you sure you want my instant crap when you can have the
real thing in under an hour?” he checked before she entered the tiled room.
Ange
snickered and threw him a
disbelieving look.
“If you expect me to have any sense of
civility and coherence after a few hours’ sleep with no coffee, you’re
dreaming,
Bradley
.
As long as it’s hot and fresh I don’t care how
fake and awful it tastes. I can always grab another one when we hook up with
Jarred. I am not a morning person, and I’m not a person at all before coffee.”
Blade dropped onto his
back on the mattress and laughed, deep and long.
Ange
ignored him and stalked into the bathroom. A minute later the sound of running
water could be heard from the next room. He climbed from the bed, drew a robe
on to ward off the slight chill in the air and headed into the kitchen to put
the kettle on the stove.
Five minutes later he
returned to his bedroom with a large mug of steaming coffee and two
almost-fresh croissants. He’d bought them the previous morning but they’d been
in too much of a rush to bother with breakfast. Today, however, Blade had the
feeling they could both use the sustenance.
The small plate and mug
fitted on his bedside table with a bit of juggling and
Ange
came out of the bathroom almost as soon as he’d laid them down, as if she could
smell the fresh brew. Blade admired her, dressed in the same dark-blue denims
she’d worn the previous night, a navy-blue button-down shirt and her boots. He
kissed her just as she murmured “Coffee” as if she’d found the Holy Grail.
Laughing, Blade shook his
head and headed into the bathroom for a shower and a quick shave. Steam had
already filled the room and he cleaned himself quickly and made a mental note
that he’d need to do a load of laundry soon if they both continued to stay at
his place. Ten minutes later he’d changed back into the clothes he’d only worn
for a few hours the previous evening and returned to the bedroom to find
Ange
had not only drunk her coffee but eaten the croissant
and was now brushing her hair and braiding it tightly back.
“Do you think we should
go over those dossiers again before we meet with Jarred?” she asked him as she
quickly wove her hair, her speed showing him she had done this many a time and
now could do it unconsciously. Blade checked the time and shook his head.
“We don’t want to be
late—it’s poor form and gives a bad impression. We can take a notepad and jot
down thoughts once we reach the cafe and we all sit down.”
Blade picked up the
satchel he had thrown on the floor in the corner of the room before they had
both crashed, exhausted, into bed. He headed into the living room, opened a
small cupboard and withdrew a few pens and two legal-sized notepads.
Ange
followed a moment
later,
her
hair braided and held with an elastic, and carried the plate and mug to the
sink.