Mind Mates (Pull of the Moon Book 2) (10 page)

Chapter Ten

Magically thrown harder than even her shifter-nature could counter, Emma couldn’t stop herself from stumbling through the aperture.

She found herself in a room exactly like the bed and breakfast’s parlor, down to the white piano and red-flocked wallpaper.

While she stood gaping, Gabriel plowed into her from behind, throwing her flying onto the carpet. He landed on top of her with so much force she was smashed flat.

For a second, it was the most wonderful feeling in the world, his heavy body finally on top of hers, pressing her into the carpet pile.

Then reality came crashing back, and she twisted out from under him. She winced that he scrambled off her almost as frantically—until his scent, tangy with male desire, surged again into her nostrils and she remembered.

“You
lied
to me.” She leaped to her feet and shouted at him, putting all her months of pent up sexual and personal frustration into it. Yeah, weird iris and clone room. They paled to nothing next to the fact that he’d misled her—or maybe this was her way of coping. “I thought you didn’t want me. I thought I was putting out signals, and you weren’t interested.
I thought I was a fool.
”

“Never a fool.” With a sigh, he sat where he was on the floor. “And I didn’t lie.” Resting his elbows on his knees, he dug hands through his hair. “I masked the truth, exactly because of this possibility.” He peeked up at her through his hands. “Because I feared the Council would imprison
you.
”

Reasonable, kind even—the exact thing she couldn’t take at this moment, not from him, the man she’d wanted,
yearned
for, for so long. She lashed out. “They wouldn’t have imprisoned
anyone
if you hadn’t let it go so long you smelled like a teenage boy’s jack-off towel.”

He winced. “I’m sorry.”

Instantly sympathy washed through her, made worse by the subtle desperation of his hands in his hair. It brought her back from the brink of throwing things. Besides, it was hard to have an argument when he wouldn’t argue back.

He glanced up at her. “Are we still friends?”

Friends.

She hadn’t quite believed him when he shook her hand on the boat and said friends, because he hadn’t ever smelled interested, or that he even
liked
her.

From that heavy dark tang, he not only liked her, he liked her a
lot.

A small glow of happiness lit inside her like a birthday candle.

She nearly facepalmed. Months of lying,
no, masking the truth,
instantly okay, because he “liked” her. Oh, she was a besotted fool all right. Amused sanity returned.

“I don’t know about friends yet. But truce.”

“I’ll take truce.” His shoulders eased.

She took a deep breath. Yes, she was still upset, but they were in this together. Time to act like it. “Where are we? This doesn’t look like a jail.”

He got to his feet. “It’s the witch’s version. A bubble of reality split off from ours…like a rubber-banded hemorrhoid.”

“You have the most colorful metaphors. Did the Enforcer create this? It looks like the B-and-B.”

“It
is
the B-and-B. The jail talisman creates a bubble from the current reality, opens a portal then seals the bubble off. In the jailer’s hand, the talisman acts as both door and key.”

Anxiety pierced her. “Is Ryder that powerful?”

“No, but he’s got the Council’s backing in the form of top-shelf talismans, potions, and spells. I’m the stronger witch, but my magic is uniontological—” He glanced at her apologetically. “That means to the limit of my power alone. Enforcer weapons are synergistic, created by additive magic. Sorry, I was a TA. Lecturing is in my blood. Bottom line, we don’t leave until Ryder releases us.”

“Yes,
us.
” She narrowed her eyes at him. “That skinny-assed Enforcer said he was jailing
me.
And you hit me like you jumped. Did you deliberately imprison yourself? Why? What about your sister?”

He gave a helpless little shrug. “I wasn’t doing Sophia much good, not with Ryder hating me so much. Honestly, it was mostly instinct. I wasn’t sure how much you knew about Council jails.”

“Isn’t it safe here?”

“Safe enough. This world is a complete copy of ours, minus the gross living things.”

“No snot?”

He managed a smile. “No people or large predators. But electricity will fail at some point, and though you could live on what canned food there is for the duration of the three-month sentence, I guess I thought I needed to be here. I can magic anything you can’t live without.”

Curious, she trotted to the front door, opened it, and peered out. “But there are parked cars. Shops. How can that be, if there are no people?”

“There are a couple explanations I got from magical theory classes, but they never made much sense to me.” His deep voice came from behind her. Silently moving up on a wolf, that was talent. “The trappings of civilization, without people to build them? Boggles the mind. Can’t argue with reality, though.”

“Magical theory classes?” She shook her head, gazing at the empty street, feeling the heat of his big body warm her back. She knew witches existed, but they didn’t slum with shifters, so she’d never gotten to know one before. Now she found herself fascinated by the idea of a young wizard prince’s life, growing up. Any young prince, not just Gabriel. Really. “You had to take classes to learn magic?”

“Doing magic is innate, but there are ways to do it better. Easier.”

“Will any of your classes help us get out of here?”

Behind her, he huffed a breath full of self-disgust. “I’ve had magical creatures and arcane languages and spell composition and a whole lot of other things that don’t matter now because there’s only one door out, and only one key.” Almost sheepishly, he added, “It’s an imprinted uniostium.” He pronounced it you-knee-ah-stee-em.

She laughed. “That’s almost as bad as computer terms. What does it mean?” She glanced over her shoulder at him and got an eyeful of pectorals pressed against the front of his vest, shooting her awareness of him sky high. She had to work to unstick her eyes, almost impossible because her every breath drew in his scent, full of masculine desire, something she’d yearned for for so long it made her dizzy.

“One key for one door at one, unchanging location.”

“Lovely.” She finally managed to tear her gaze from his chest and met his star-shot eyes, searching her face.

Softly, he said, “Emma, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to get you into this situation.”

He was only thinking of her. Her wolf thumped its tail, and her treacherous heart wanted to forgive him everything.
Wimps.
“You’re in this situation too.”

“Yes, but I knew the possible consequences. Which was why I hid the smell…well. Not making excuses.”

He was so close her skin itched. She had to move. She brushed by him back into the parlor, stopping before the fireplace, her back to it. Searching the nearby air, she wondered if the portal was still there but invisible.

Invisible. It hit her—she couldn’t see Ryder, or any Matinsfield residents. And that might mean… She turned to Gabriel, trying to ignore her goosed heart rate. “Can anyone see us?”

“We’re completely cut off until the door opens again…” He dribbled off, his eyes widening.

The scent of testosterone, already heavy, utterly drenched the air.

An answering storm of butterflies fluttered in her belly. He and she were alone in the world, literally—which meant no Council.

With empty beds right upstairs.

Sure, she was still upset with him. But they’d also declared a truce. Over the thudding of her heart she managed, “The Enforcer won’t open it for how long?”

“Three months.” His voice sounded strangled, and his nostrils were white, as if his breath was coming hard.

Months, alone with the man she’d craved. She’d wanted him before, but smelling his reciprocal desire sent hers skyrocketing. “Could he reopen the portal early?”

“He could.” Gabriel swallowed audibly. “But knowing Ryder, he’ll try to delay as long as possible.”

“
Oh.
” Pining and hunger surged and crashed inside her. Sizzling attraction and a wolf’s extreme need, too long denied, met like baking soda and vinegar, like nitro and glycerin, until the pressure burst forth in two short words.

“Take me.”

He jerked, and his breathing stepped up from rasping to organ bellows. She
saw
it hit him. Saw his understanding that she was putting aside her anger and frustration with him in favor of her physical need.
Their
physical need.

But he stayed where he was.

Oh, he wanted her. His desire was evident in every tensing muscle in his big body, the clench of pectorals, the heavy swallow. The deep, intense shudder. The rise of evidence, so big and needy it wasn’t hidden even by his baggy trousers.

Yet he only stood there, completely motionless, spectacled gaze tethered to hers like a lifeline. If it weren’t for the visible signs and the scent of arousal rolling off him like a tidal wave, she’d have doubted herself.

Doubt rose anyway. In the two months she’d been working for him, she’d learned his every mood. If he really wanted her, if he’d read her desire for him, why wasn’t he here satisfying her? Satisfying
them?
“What’s wrong?”

He clenched his fists, his belly churning rapidly with his panted breaths. “Emma, I need to know… Is it you, or is it your wolf?”

Then she understood. He thought this was her wolf goading her to lift her tail for the creature with the most testosterone—or actually, in this universe, about the only creature with testosterone.

He needed a sign from her that she really wanted him.

The sweetheart. The big lug. “Of course it’s me wanting you. I’ve wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you.” When he
still
didn’t move, she made an exasperated noise. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I heard your first bad joke.”

He was on her like a monster truck roaring down the road. Big, overpowering, making her jump back automatically, but it was too late. He snared her in his powerful arms, cinched her tight to his muscular torso, bent his great frame, and kissed her.

Blazing hot lips landed on hers.

Two months of need exploded on contact. It was less a kiss and more a mating of mouths. His tongue pried as if desperate to get in. She spread her lips wide in welcome. He dove in with a sigh, as much relief as desire.

Her heart pounded as their breath mingled and their tongues tangled. He tasted of dark, rich magic. His muscled body pressed against her so hard she felt imprinted by the rocky mounds. She wriggled in pleasure.

With a groan, his mouth opened wide, his jaw beginning to work as his tongue speared into her like a javelin. Tasting her, branding her with his taste, filling her with his power. Excitement driving her, she stretched up, clasped her wrists behind his neck, and pulled herself onto her toes for more.

His hands slid down her back to the bottom of her shirt. Grasping the hem, he tore it up her body, hard enough that she had to let go or get her arms ripped off. As it was, her ID bracelet flew off and one button popped when he yanked the top over her head, barely breaking the kiss before seizing her head in both hands and tonguing her deep. She opened wide and accepted him, all of him.

She tried to tear off his sweater vest in return, barely ruching it a foot up his torso before it caught on the flare of his lats.

Lifting his mouth from hers, he muttered, “Clothes
off.
”

When he pressed against her this time, it was naked skin to naked skin.

Excitement jolted through her, set her heart to hammering. Cloth-covered, his torso was hard; bare, he was like a rock cliff. She felt every jerk of his washboard abs as he panted, every ridge of pec and lat as she grabbed him for stability—and she felt his big erection grow even fatter, trapped against her upper thigh.

That jacked her sky-high.

Reaching down, she wrapped one hand around his naked cock. The length and girth of the thing made her belly shiver in delight and her sex weep for joy.

He released a soft groan. “I’ve wanted to feel you do that forever. I’ve wanted to do something to you for as long. May I?” He dropped a hand to her breast.

“Please.”

“
Thank
you.” He began cupping and kneading.

She was well-endowed for her size and he hefted and pinched until she was mewling. Until she swayed hips into his thigh in the age-old rhythm. Until she wrapped both her hands around his shaft and worked it like she was yanking a lever.

He groaned with each squeeze, finally muttering, “Do that against me.”

“This?” She flattened him between their bellies and pressed wantonly, bumping and grinding him until he hissed.