Witchlock (12 page)

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Authors: Dianna Love

BOOK: Witchlock
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He’d caught her ogling him and clearly liked it.   
 

Evidently she was taking too long to undress, because the next thing she knew he was in front of her, unzipping her jeans and pulling them down.
 

She laughed, happy for the first time in a week, and stepped out of the jeans, which he tossed aside. She couldn’t recall Storm being so messy.
 

He caught her face with his big hands and stared deep into her eyes. “I like the sound of you happy.”
 

“You’re the cause of it.”
 

“I like that too.” He kissed her, using his mouth with the precision of a maestro, tuning her body to a fever pitch that would sing the minute he plucked a few choice cords. She ran her hands up his chest and marveled at the fact that he was hers.
 

His hands touched and explored. Every part of him moved in perfect sync.
 

One particular part thudded against her abdomen, letting her know just how much he’d missed her. She eased down and grasped him in a firm grip and he stilled.
 

All that power at her mercy.
 

She moved her hand slowly up his length.
 

He groaned, a deep feral sound, then lifted her until she had to release him and hook her legs around his waist. Then he headed for the bathroom, which was nowhere near as spacious and well appointed as the one in the house where he’d been living.
 

Another negative of Storm being stuck underground with her.
 

He’d showered here that first day, but alone, because she’d been busy trying to calm Feenix.
 

She had a moment of panic, berating herself for not allowing Quinn to incorporate all the upgrades he’d intended for this apartment. She’d been so determined to stand on her own two feet and take no charity, that she’d refused any luxury Quinn had tried to push her way under the excuse of being her landlord.
 

Which he was, but she received a monthly stipend like every other Belador warrior and could pay her bills.
 

Storm sat her on the vanity and eased away, leaning down until his face was all she could see. He shook his head. “What are you worrying over now?”
 

He couldn’t read minds. She knew that.
 

But he was a strong empath. If she told him she was embarrassed by the cramped quarters, he’d tell her it didn’t matter. He’d blow it off. He couldn’t outright lie or his Navajo gift for detecting a lie would backlash on him with physical pain. That didn’t mean he hadn’t figured out how to skirt the truth by being clever when he felt it necessary.
 

She opened her mouth and closed it.
 

He said, “If you don’t want to say what’s bothering you, that’s fine. It’s better than feeling like you have to shade the truth with me, because you don’t and you know that right?”
 

“Right.” She knew it in her heart, but her mind was not in sync with her heart lately. She finally admitted, “I’m tired and not up for any discussion.” Not now when they finally had a moment to themselves.
 

Tap. Tap. Tap.
 

Evalle looked past him toward the bedroom door. “Now what?”
 

“I’ll check. You get the shower started.”
 

 

~*~*~*~
 

 

Storm wrapped a towel around his waist and walked slowly enough for Evalle to start the shower noise before he opened the door. He found her critter outside.
 

The half-pint gargoyle lifted his chin until his bright orange eyes stared up, unblinking. When Feenix spoke it sounded like a teenage boy, but came out as an order. “Evalle.”
 

She’d warned Storm that her pet didn’t have a big vocabulary, and after that first meeting Storm had also learned the little guy frightened easily. For that reason, Storm tried to sound calm and patient when all he wanted was to be alone with Evalle. “She’s getting a bath and going to bed. Evalle is tired. You should go to sleep, too.”
 

“Evalle,” Feenix repeated, not moving an inch. This time those orange eyes flamed bright then narrowed.
 

Evalle described Feenix as harmless.
 

Storm had survived by being able to read what truth lay beneath the surface in a confrontation with an animal or a powerful being. Deadly animals on the prowl attacked.
 

So did frightened ones, and Storm’s presence unnerved Feenix.
 

Storm wasn’t sure where a gargoyle fell in the food chain, but he wasn’t taking any chances with something capable of torching a pizza with fire from his snout. Yeah, he’d heard that story, too. Evalle had thought it charming when Feenix tried to cook her a pizza in the oven with his own
built-in blowtorch.
 

Storm thought it sounded dangerous if the gargoyle ever lost his temper, but things had been so tense between him and Evalle since he walked in carrying a duffel last week, that he would not start in on her pet.
 

As long as the gargoyle didn’t harm Evalle.
 

Feenix showed no sign of budging.
 

This wasn’t going well.
 

Evalle would come looking to see what the problem was if Storm didn’t return to the bathroom soon. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, feeling the long hours and two hundred miles he’d spent running in jaguar form before stopping at his truck, where he always kept an extra set of clothes.
 

He couldn’t have survived waiting until later this morning to see Evalle.
 

He dropped his hands, determined to find peace with Feenix, but someone saved him from round three.
 

Lanna padded down the hall from the living room. Blond curls stuck out in six directions and the teenager wore powder-blue warm-ups. She squatted down, yawning, and patted Feenix on the shoulder. “Evalle has been working many hours. She is tired. We will visit tomorrow, yes?”
 

For Lanna, the little guy’s eyes turned into pure charm.
 

What a con artist.
 

Feenix smiled at her and said, “Yeth. Morrow.”
 

She smiled at Storm, letting him know she’d handle it.
 

Storm mouthed the words
thank you
over Feenix’s head. He was just closing the door to the bedroom when he heard a sharp sound and opened it again to find a burn spot two feet off the ground.
 

Lanna turned the corner, still holding Feenix’s hand. At the last second, the gargoyle gave Storm a long look and poofed a streak of black smoke at him, then disappeared into the dark living room.
 

Might as well accept the truth.
 

This was not going to work for long, but Storm wanted Evalle relaxed and happy tonight. The discussion on living here could wait for now. He shut the door and used a quick chant, creating a spell to prevent any sound escaping this room.
 

Now for his welcome-home gift waiting in the shower.
 

He opened the glass door, stepped into a cloud of steam, and found Evalle under the showerhead with a hand propped against the wall and water gushing over her. He curved his arms around a wet and naked Evalle from behind.
 

Holding her was all his best dreams wrapped into one.
 

Still leaning forward, she reached back to touch his thigh with her free hand, always touching him now that she knew him intimately.
 

He’d taught her to enjoy touching and was damned proud of her.
 

She’d overcome a hellish childhood that included being raped by a man she’d thought was the family doctor.
 

If the guy hadn’t died in a wreck back then, Storm would ...
 

“Can’t breathe,” she laughed and patted the arm around her waist.
 

He immediately eased his hold, pushing his mind away from murderous thoughts.   
 

Now was not the time to think about anything but this woman. Reaching up, he cupped her breasts and brushed a finger over each nipple, teasing each one into a hard little bead. She arched back against him and trembled.
 

Storm had run Tzader’s team hard for a week and it had been worth every argument and gripe.
 

The only one who hadn’t argued was Trey, because he had a woman he loved just as much waiting at home, too.
 

Getting back to Evalle just one minute sooner would be worth any effort. He kissed her neck and bit lightly at the same moment he pinched her nipples just enough to wring a cry out of her.
 

She sucked in a breath and stilled suddenly.  
 

He leaned close, whispering, “I soundproofed the bedroom and bathroom.”
 

She let out her breath and her voice purred. “You think of everything.”
 

Only for her.
 

“Keep your hands on the wall,” he told her, because he knew how tired she was. He’d first thought to encourage her to climb into bed and get the sleep she clearly needed. As much as he’d wanted her, he could have been content holding her while she rested.
 

But the one night they’d spent here had stressed her out and left her with a wary look of worry he hadn’t been happy about leaving.
 

Right now, he wanted to remind her that she was loved, and that she was his. Next he’d drain her of all the pent-up energy surging around her. His empathic gift kept picking up on that.
 

Once that was gone, she’d sleep soundly, tucked up against him where he’d be able to rest with her safe and content.
 

She lifted her head. “I want to feel you so much you have no idea.”
 

I beg to differ.
 

That had been a plea as much as a statement and he ached to be inside
her, too, but not yet.
 

Allowing one hand to pay homage to her breast, keeping her gasping and trembling, he ran his other hand down, fingers tracing every inch of her firm body. She was built for agility and power, but all that toned body came with plenty of curves.
 

Evalle fought with all she had inside her to protect others and do her duty. She rarely softened completely except at a moment like this when she felt safe enough to let her guard down.
 

Only for him.
 

Humbling to say the least.
 

This magnificent woman was all his to hold forever.
 

His fingers swept around her waist and across her taut butt, then he slipped between her legs and found the bundle of nerves that were as slick wet as the rest of her. He wanted to take her to the edge with his tongue, but she would not last long tonight so he brushed the pad of his finger over the sensitive spot and she slapped her hands against the tiled wall.
 

Two more strokes and she shuddered, calling out to him, so very close that he slid one long finger inside her, pulling it out slowly then pushing back in.
 

Power shook the glass.
 

“Easy, baby,” he soothed her, which was in contradiction to the way his fingers demanded she let go.
 

He moved to the nipple that had been neglected and teased it.
 

She bowed back, arching with her hands flush against the wall. She keened a long sound.
 

The wall cracked just as she crashed over the edge. He didn’t let her stop until she gave everything up.
 

When her knees buckled, he caught her and turned her around, then lifted her into his arms where he could kiss her. She curled a noodle-limp arm around his neck.
 

Her lips smoothed into a content smile.
 

He’d make it his goal to keep her that way.
 

He kissed her deeper, missing everything about her more than he would ever expect to miss a person in only one week. Good luck expecting him to go away again any time soon. All he had to do was come up with a living arrangement that would work for both of them. That had never been an issue in the past, but they’d never tried to coexist under one roof before.
 

She let him lift his head. When he did, he was treated to a glazed look of satisfaction that he’d put on her face.
 

She struggled to draw in one breath after another. “Is that all?”
 

“Can you handle more?”
 

“I know you didn’t just ask me that.”
 

There was his badass, always up for a challenge. He lowered her to her feet and kissed her again with water sluicing over them both.
 

She pointed her hand at the glass door, which swung open, then she bent a finger as if calling something to her.
 

He lifted his head in time to catch the condom flying into the bathroom.
 

She asked, “Want me to put it on or can
you
handle that?”
 

“Tough question. It’s been a whole week since I’ve been inside you. I might not survive it.”
 

Her eyes glowed and her lips quirked up. She snatched the condom out of his hand and tossed the wrapper out the door, closing the glass door before she sheathed him.
 

He hadn’t been kidding about not surviving her hands on him. Then she jumped into his arms and he busted out laughing and told her, “I’ve missed you.”
 

“Really?”
 

That sounded too serious. He held her with one arm underneath her and brushed her hair back. “Don’t ever doubt it or that I love you.”
 

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