Impassion (Mystic) (33 page)

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Authors: B. C. Burgess

BOOK: Impassion (Mystic)
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“One,” he answered.

She looked back up, searching his eyes and aura for the truth. “Besides me?”

“No, Layla, just you. You’re the only person I’ve even considered bringing here.”

“Oh,” she mumbled. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I disagree,” he countered. Then he warmed her up before arguing his case. “If you ever have notions like that, I’d rather you tell me than let them haunt you. Don’t you feel better now that you’ve asked?”

“Yes, but what if I hadn’t liked the answer?”

“Keeping the question to yourself will only make you assume the worst, and that’s not any better than disliking the answer.”

“I guess,” she conceded, dropping her gaze.

“Layla.”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to look at me when I say this.”

She looked up, and he soberly held her stare as he went on. “I realize it makes you uncomfortable to think about my past relationships, but you have nothing to worry about, and I have nothing to hide. What we have together is unlike anything I’ve ever known, so even if I had brought another woman here, I can promise you it wouldn’t have been like this.” He paused long enough to warm her up. Then he continued. “When you start feeling insecure, I want you to tell me, because holding it in will put tension between us, and that’s the last thing I want. Whatever the issue is, I’ll find a way to fix it, and I’ll never get upset with you for giving me the opportunity.”

Layla’s heart swelled with pleasurable pulses as her insecurities melted away. “You’re amazing,” she repeated, “and yes, I’ll try to be honest about my concerns, but you have to be patient with me, because I’m not used to sharing with anyone besides Katherine.”

“I’ll be as patient as you need me to be,” he offered. “I’m in this for the long haul.”

“Would you believe me if I said I was, too?”

“Yes, but I’m still going to give you the opportunity to make sure.”

“Then I could say the opportunity extends to you.”

He smiled and tapped her stubborn chin. “You can say that if it makes you feel better.”

“I would say you’re being unfair,” she returned, wrinkling her nose, “but it’s the opposite of that.”

He warmed her up again, following the hot breath with a kiss. “I do know we’re happy together, and it’s my sincerest hope we’ll feel this way forever.”

“Me, too, Quin. I’ve never been happier than I am when I’m with you. I don’t want it to be that way with anybody else.”

“Believe me, I want it all for myself. And I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure I get it. When it comes to keeping you in my life, fighting fair becomes a relatively loose term.”

“Do you want me to put up a fight?” she asked, sliding her hands down his bare chest. “I would hate for you to get bored because it’s too easy.”

“Impossible, but that grin of yours intrigues me. How exactly do you intend to fight?”

“Are you asking me to give away my secrets?” she countered, slipping her fingers beneath his waistband. She stretched her hands out over the front of his hips and was surprised to find he wasn’t wearing anything under his shorts.

He warmed her up. Then he held her close as he floated halfway out of the water, stopping with the surface lapping at her waist. “You don’t have to give away your secrets,” he said, sweeping a few stray curls behind her. “I like surprises, but you don’t seem to be putting up much of a fight.”

Paying little attention to his words, Layla slid her hands to his hard backside, sighing as she squeezed and pulled. She bit her lip, trying to hide a grin. Then she imagined his shorts floating beside her. The magic worked, and her eyes widened the same time his did.

He stiffened and glanced over, and she laughed while floating his shorts further away.

“You’re naked,” she teased, raising her eyebrows.

He swallowed hard as he took her cheeks in his palms. “You’re walking a thin line, tempting me this way.”

“Oh?” she returned, moving her mouth to his neck.

Quin tilted his head back and closed his eyes, trying to decide if he could handle the temptation. If she had any idea how hungry he was, she wouldn’t be dangling the fruit so close to his mouth. She also had no idea how sweet the fruit was, or how enticing it smelled and looked. Only part of her wanted him to bite—the part kissing his throat. Then there was the part of her that would be mortified if he actually took the bait—the part with blushing cheeks and a nervous pulse.

Quin didn’t want part of her. He wanted it all, so he used magic to keep their lower halves pressed together. If she were to wiggle down and move against him, he’d surely break, and she’d quickly find herself spread open in the middle of a salty ocean.

He reached behind him, finding her wrists. Then he raised them over her head, forcing her mouth from his neck. He met her stare—huge emeralds holding a chaotic combination of anticipation, nervousness and embarrassment. Then he magically lowered the top of her gown to her waist. She quietly gasped, but she didn’t flex or try to free her hands.

Quin stared at her wet torso for a long time, literally unable to look away. Moonlight merged with shadow along her stomach and chest, accentuating her curves; and her pink nipples were alert and beading with moisture, tempting droplets quivering on the precipice of paradise.

He slid one hand to the small of her back while placing the other between her breasts. Then he leaned her top half toward the water. She let him to do it and only flushed with a light blush when he lowered his mouth. He kissed the smooth skin stretching across her ribs. Then he worked his way up, delivering magical warmth with every sweep of his lips.

His impatient tongue found one of her nipples, and he gave her an extra shot of heat as he sucked her in. Her hands clasped his shoulders as a purr rolled up her chest, and he froze, magically redirecting blood flow from his groin. The pressure subsided, but the moment he took her other nipple in his mouth, the tide swept her skirt between his legs and his veins nearly burst.

Holding one breast in his palm, he kissed his way to her lips. Then he blasted her with heat while lowering their bodies into the water. “I have to stop. You can say you won this fight if you want to.”

She grinned and opened her eyes. “Were we fighting?”

“Um... yeah. I’m fighting a battle, and I will be until you return my shorts.”

“So whose side do you think I’m on?” she countered. “I mean, if you think I won, yet I’m supposed to give you your shorts, you must think I’m on your side. Right? Or would that mean you’re on my side?”

He tried to make sense of her question, but the sensation of her dress against his unrestrained manhood scattered his brain. “I can’t really comprehend what you’re asking, so if it’s important, remind me later, when I can properly focus.”

“Are you bothered right now?” she quietly asked, touching a forefinger to his lips.

He cleared his throat and squeezed his eyes shut. “That depends on how you look at it.”

Layla grinned, remembering how many times he’d pulled her to the edge only to step back and leave her there. Could she get away with giving him a small dose of his own delicious medicine? She was dying to find out.

She took an indiscreet gulp of air. Then she magically transferred her dress and underwear into her hand. His eyes widened, and the magic keeping their lower halves pressed together ceased.

Layla slid further into the sea, gasping as certain body parts came
way
closer to each other than she’d intended. But she wouldn’t let it flaw her plan. It only made it better.

She shot out of the water into an open back flip. Then she stopped and hovered a few yards away, allowing him a thorough look. His dumbfounded expression provoked a string of giggles, which she let loose while transferring their clothes onto their bodies.

Quin groaned and adjusted himself. Then he flew from the water to meet her. “That,” he whispered, pulling her against him, “was not fighting fair.”

She smiled at him, half angelic half devilish. “You’re not terribly mad at me, are you?”

“No. I’m definitely not mad at you. I want you, and I appreciate you, but I couldn’t possibly be mad at you.”

“But I crossed your line,” she noted, fluttering her eyelashes.

“And you did it beautifully,” he commended.

She shivered, so he delivered more heat with a soft kiss. “Thank you for letting me look at your amazing body. I’ll have sweet dreams about it for the rest of my life.”

“I’ll let you see it again sometime. But you should probably return the favor eventually.”

“You could have already seen it if you really wanted to.”

“How’s that?”

“I go to sleep, and you obviously have no problem vanishing my clothes.”

She suspiciously eyed his twitching lips. “You don’t do that, do you?”

“What if I said I did? Would you be angry?”

“Tell me you’re kidding, Quin.”

“I’ll tell you the truth after you answer my question. Would it make you angry if I removed your clothes while you slept?”

Her nervous expression stayed in place as she seriously considered this. “I don’t know how angry I would be, but I would feel violated, embarrassed, and afraid to fall asleep. And I would be disappointed, because I didn’t think you were that kind of man. There, that’s my honest answer. Now tell me, have you done that?”

His dimples deepened as he kissed her nose. “No, and you’re right, I’m not the kind of man who would.”

She relaxed as her suspicion melted and her smile returned.

“However,” he added, “I wouldn’t be the least bit angry if you did it to me, and I would love for you to admit your guilty pleasure the following day.”

Layla couldn’t help but laugh at his extreme confidence. “If I ever sneak a peak, I’ll be sure to tattle on myself.”

“I’ll keep hope in my heart for the moment,” he approved, eyes sparkling. Then he glanced at the incoming storm before breathing more heat into her shivering body. “Would you like me to dry you, or would you like to dry yourself?”

“How about you dry me, and I’ll dry you.”

“I like the way you think, Layla, my love.”

Layla glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, noticing the difference in the way he said her name. She liked it. It made her feel all warm and tingly, but she didn’t share this fun fact. Instead, she turned her attention to his head, watching the moon reflect off his dark hair as she magicked it dry.

Chapter 23

A
gro sped up, exploiting Farriss’
slipstream as the brute connected with his mind. ‘
We’re approaching the community’s borders, sir. There appears to be a guard.

Agro flew higher and peered into the distance. Sure enough, an emblazoned aura hovered above a reaching Sitka spruce. Agro considered ordering Farriss to attack, but the aura dropped into the timber and disappeared. Just as well. Agro hadn’t journeyed here to slaughter the coven. He was here to find his witch.

As they crossed into private airspace, Agro scanned the forest, half expecting auras scattering like rats. But if the coven members ran, they ran the other way, because the forest was still, its creatures hunkered down.

Rooftops came into view, then the clearing, and Agro slowed as his soldiers did the same. Floating upright, Agro scanned the lawn, spotting two men on the eastern side. They were barely visible, their auras thin and muted, their bodies shadowed, but they soon stepped into the moonlight and walked to the center of the clearing.

Agro ordered Farriss to advance then followed, commanding the outside lines to watch the perimeters of the lawn. The grass whispered as they landed, and a dozen soldiers aimed their palms at the only two coven members in sight.

Farriss stepped aside, and Agro moved forward, surveying his greeters from head to toe. He thought he recognized the younger wizard with blond hair and blue eyes, but couldn’t be sure. The older wizard, with chestnut eyes and salt and pepper hair, wasn’t memorable.

The younger man was the first to speak, keeping his shoulders squared as he boldly tilted his chin. “Why are you here, Agro?”

His voice and stance drew twenty-one-year-old memories, and Agro’s nostrils flared as he breathed deep, reminding himself to stay calm. “I think you know why.” He scanned his surroundings then motioned over his shoulder. “We saw one of your guards. Expecting trouble?”

The blond raised an eyebrow and pointed west. “You saw my brother-in-law heading to work. And it would seem trouble is already upon us.”

“Where are the others?” Agro asked, counting the houses as he swept his gaze across dark windows.

“Gone,” the blond answered. “They flew east the moment my brother-in-law spotted you west. You can try to catch them, but you won’t.”

Agro narrowed his eyes on his insubordinate host. “You’re the wizard who challenged me so many years ago, are you not? On this very lawn? The father of the beaming bride.”

The blond gave a tense nod. “Caitrin Conn.”

“Right,” Agro replied, turning his attention to the older man. “Which would make you a Kavanagh?”

The old man nodded. “Catigern—patriarch of the Kavanaghs.”

“And the patriarch of the Conns?” Agro pressed. “Where is he?”

“You’re looking at him,” Caitrin answered. “My dad left this world long ago.”

Agro cracked a smile as he held a hand to his chest. “Did I…”

“No,” Caitrin bristled. “You merely lay claim to my offspring.”

“A wound still sore, I see.”

“A wound as fresh as the day I lost them.”

“Them?” Agro asked, tilting his head.

Caitrin’s chest inflated as he raised an accusatory finger. “You kill so many, you lose track.”

A wave of crimson shifted, and Agro whipped a hand up, signaling his soldiers to hold. “True,” he confessed, meeting Caitrin’s tumultuous stare. “But I remember your offspring very well. Where is your mate?”

“Probably approaching the lights of Portland by now, unless she crossed the Columbia River.”

“Is that where your granddaughter went as well?”

Caitrin tilted his head, his brow creasing as he drew a shaky hand to his throat. “Your greed ensured my only grandchild never saw light of day.”

Agro regarded the air around his mark, unable to find the lie. “Release your aura and say the same.”

“I will not,” Caitrin refused. “You’ve taken enough from me. I won’t grant you access to my soul.”

“You will do as I say,” Agro returned, glancing at Farriss, who moved behind Catigern.

The old man braced himself, but a swift kick took him to his knees as Farriss gripped his head in both hands, poised to twist his neck.

“You kill absent reason,” Caitrin objected.

Agro held up a hand, and Farriss froze, his eyes trained on his boss.

Agro stepped toward Caitrin, forcing him to his knees with a flick of his wrist. “You continue to pretend your granddaughter does not live.”

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