When Sparks Fly (Netherworld Series Book 3)

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When Sparks Fly (Netherworld Series Book 3) Page 17

by Olivia Hutchinson


  His mother had asked her all kinds of questions regarding his injury and everything else that had transpired between them over the past few days. Maggie answered every single question, even the questions concerning Maggie’s feelings toward her son.

  The woman had lapsed into silence when the shouting came from the other room. Penny leaped from the chair and would’ve darted into the room if Maggie hadn’t grasped her shoulder.

  “Let’s not get in their way. I’m sure the doctor has it under control,” she said more calmly than she felt. She wanted to get in that room perhaps as severely as his mother did, but she restrained herself, realizing that bursting in there would be more of a hindrance than a help.

  The older woman’s body started shaking. “Oh, my poor baby!”

  Maggie went for a reassuring pat on her shoulder and tried to steer her back to the island. She’d never been very good when people’s emotions were running high and while she liked his mother, she still didn’t know how to approach her.

  “Those fae,” she sobbed, hopping back up on the stool. “I hate them all.”

  “So do I.” Maggie patted her arm.

  “I just don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t survived.”

  “I can imagine.” Pat. Pat.

  “If you hadn’t been there…,” sniff, “if you hadn’t taken care of him…,” sniff, sniff, “oh, thank you!”

  Maggie hadn’t been prepared for the little woman to launch herself at her. She caught Maggie in a bear hug, the top of her head just under Maggie’s chin, her arms circled around her waist and squeezed to the point where Maggie had difficulty breathing.

  “It’s okay…,” she tried with no success.

  “No, you don’t understand,” she cried. “he’s my only child. After what happened to Jimmy Schram…Barbara Schram is a mess. I couldn’t imagine if it was my son, my Jonah, out there. Torn to pieces by those savages, body parts strewn about and hanging from trees. His eyes and tongue burning in a pit.”

  Oh, shit. She knew about Jimmy Schram, but Jonah hadn’t told her the details. And thank god for that. She didn’t want to know all this, but here she was trying to console his mother whose body was racked with sobs.

  “Penny leave the poor girl alone. She’s been through enough,” Jonah’s father said as he came out of the bedroom, followed by the doctor.

  “Oh, Rick!” She dropped Maggie like a sack of potatoes and launched herself at her husband. The little woman didn’t even come up to the large man’s shoulders and while he may act like he was made of steel, she didn’t miss the way his face softened when his wife was in his arms and the gentle way he stroked her back.

  He was an older version of Jonah. Large, muscled, but with greying hair and the beginnings of a grey beard. He reminded her of her own father in a way, only her father’s black hair was streaked with white, his beard long, and he had the Alfieri light green eyes.

  A knock sounded on the door a minute later. Jonah’s father answered it, said a few words, and shut it again. He was holding car keys in his hand.

  “Al just dropped off your car,” he told her, handing her the car keys.

  “I guess he and Mike didn’t want to come in?”

  Rick shook his head and put her keys on the kitchen island. “They’re going home for now.”

  Penny grabbed Rick’s hand and pulled him into the living room and Maggie was thankful for a few quiet moments since she’d walked into the house. The place was beautiful, consisting of an open living area and kitchen with Jonah’s bedroom connected to the living room. There was a narrow staircase at the back of the living room which led upstairs. She couldn’t imagine there was a lot of room up there, but she was curious to explore it later. The place itself was comfortable and had a homey feeling.

  Maggie supposed it was her home now. She put the steaks in the oven to finish just as Pecora came over to her. “How are you doing?”

  “Fine,” she said, turning to lean against the counter, bracing her hands behind her on the slate countertop. She was in love with Jonah’s kitchen. Her kitchen?

  “Anything you want me to look at?” he asked, pushing up the metal frame glasses that sat on his narrow nose. He wasn’t an unattractive man. Tall and lean with dark red hair that was free from any orange tint.

  “I’m fine, really.”

  “How is your bite?” he asked her. “I don’t know how much of your shifter side you inherited.”

  She hadn’t had much discomfort from the site. To satisfy Pecora’s curiosity, she pulled the neckline of her shirt to the side so he could see her shoulder. He didn’t touch her, not even to move the fabric so he could get a better look.

  “You’re healing nicely as I suspected,” he said. “When did he bite you?”

  “Two nights ago.” He’d poked and prodded Jonah so much that she was curious as to why he seemed wary of coming too close to her.

  “It’s closed over. It’ll scar like all mating bites, of course, but give it another day or so and you’ll hardly notice it.”

  “Okay.”

  He adjusted his glasses once more when they started to slide. “I left some instructions for Jonah. He’s a lucky man. If you hadn’t gotten the arrow out as fast as you did or if he hadn’t irrigated the wound, he most likely wouldn’t have made it out of the woods alive.”

  She didn’t want to remember having to push the arrow through his leg or how it felt to rip through his muscle. A sudden chill crept over her and she wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Make sure he eats plenty of protein and gets plenty of rest. If he does all that he should be good as new in a few days and now that it’s been treated properly, the wound should be healed over by tomorrow.”

  As good as new in a few days? She hadn’t realized how different shifter healing was from humans. Just the fact the wound would be closed over by the next day was a miracle unto itself. She’d been known to suffer from the same paper cut for a week.

  He glanced back at Jonah’s parents who were still standing in the living room, talking to Travis who had just emerged from the bedroom. He bent toward her, his voice low when he said, “No sex for at least twenty-four hours. Any sudden jerking movements could cause that wound to open again and delay healing.”

  “I’m sorry?” she asked, hoping she’d heard him wrong.

  “No sex. I get that you’re newly mated, but I’m sure you two can find other things to do to relieve that urge.”

  Heat flooded her face. Thankfully, he didn’t comment. Just turned on his heel and walked away.

  Jonah was miserable. His leg ached worse now than it had before. After he got out of the shower, he and Travis had made some plans for the town. Things that could be easily put into place to better protect New Freedom and the people living there. They had made plenty of headway and Travis had agreed to get things rolling while Jonah took some time to recover as Pecora had recommended. If the fae did attack the town, he needed to be in the best condition possible.

  While the shifters had guns, the fae had magic. They’d be able to stir up the wind to obstruct someone’s vision or could cause a blizzard in the middle of July. It wouldn’t be an easy task, but they were beatable. Ultimately, he was afraid they would try guerilla attacks, picking people off one by one before they made their stand. Everyone would have to remain vigilant.

  Travis left first with the intention of calling a town meeting. His parents left soon after with Pecora, but not before his mother made sure his fridge and cabinets were well-stocked, which they already were by the grace of God. She gave him a teary goodbye and would’ve plastered him with kisses if his father hadn’t been kind enough to steer her out the front door before she got the chance.

  As soon as the front door closed, he pulled himself from the bed and limped out into the living room to find Maggie, bracing himself on the walls and furniture as he went.

  He found her in the kitchen, slicing a thick piece of steak. She looked exhausted, but she’d made good on he
r promise to make him a steak. He hated that she hadn’t taken the time she needed to recuperate before launching into preparing them dinner.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” she said, dividing the pieces between the two plates she set out. Sliced tomatoes and sautéed zucchini were already piled high on both plates. “I have another steak resting in the oven.”

  “You really did make two.”

  She smiled as he sat down across from where she was standing at the island. “I told you I would. You’re not the only one who’s hungry and steak always makes for great leftovers.”

  “If there are any leftovers.” He was ready to eat both pieces by himself.

  She pushed his plate across the island to him before retrieving some silverware from the drawer. After handing him a knife and fork, she took her plate and sat down next to him.

  His stomach was growling, and the steak smelled like a million bucks. When he bit into the juicy piece of meat, it fell apart, almost dissolving on his tongue. It was the best thing he’d ever eaten.

  “Oh my god, this is delicious.” He picked up another slice with his hands and popped it into his mouth, ignoring the niceties of using silverware.

  “Thanks,” she said when she finished chewing. “How do you feel?”

  He shrugged. “Happy to be home.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  He wanted to talk to her, but he wanted food more at that moment. She seemed just as focused on eating as he was and so they passed the rest of their meal in silence. She was still eating when he looked down and saw his plate was empty. Reaching across the counter, he pulled the cutting board closer to him and helped himself to another heaping serving.

  He was still chewing when she stood up from her seat.

  “I’m going to take a shower.”

  He nodded, his mouth full as she took her empty plate to the sink. When he swallowed, he asked, “Do you need help finding anything?”

  She put her hand on his shoulder and gave a slight squeeze. “No, I got it. Finish eating.”

  As he finished his third serving, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. He really did have the best mate ever.

  13

  The shower was the best she’d ever had. The hot water soothed her aching muscles and she scrubbed the sweat and dirt from her skin. She hadn’t realized just how gross she’d felt until she was clean again.

  When she emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam – her teeth brushed, and her legs shaved – she felt like a new woman. After towel drying her hair, she pulled on a pair of purple and white striped lounge pants and a light grey t-shirt.

  Jonah’s bedroom was large, decorated in a masculine shade of grey, with a king-sized bed that looked more and more inviting by the second. Although they hadn’t discussed anything yet, she supposed this was her bedroom now, too. Rubbing her eyes, she left her bag sitting by his dresser and went back into the living room.

  Jonah was sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels, his injured leg propped up on the coffee table in front of him. He wore black sweatpants that sat low on his waist and a thin white t-shirt. When she glanced into the kitchen, she realized he’d already cleaned up the mess she’d made from dinner. The dishes sat in the drying rack next to the sink and he’d turned off all the lights in the house except for a small one over the stove and the dim lamp on the end table next to him.

  Glancing at the clock on the wall, she saw it was already after nine. Sitting down on the couch next to him, she curled up her legs and sank back into the cushions.

  His body stiffened next to her. “Enjoy your shower?”

  “Mmm hmm…”

  “That’s good. I’m sure you feel better.”

  “Much,” she told him, letting herself relax next to him, her head resting against the muscle of his upper arm.

  He flipped through a few more channels. “Anything you want to watch?”

  “Nah. Pick what you want. I don’t watch much television.”

  He surfed through the channels before stopping on a nature documentary. She watched for a few minutes before she noticed a stirring under the material of his sweatpants.

  “Pecora said no sex for twenty-four hours,” she commented.

  “I hate that bastard.”

  She laughed. “Why? Because of the no sex rule?”

  “That’s the only reason I can think of right now, but that’s because fucking you is the only thing I can think about.”

  He dropped the remote and reached across his chest to stroke her hair. She all but started purring.

  “You need to rest,” she told him with a sigh. “There will be plenty of time for fooling around later.”

  “Damn straight there will be,” he grunted. Then after a moment, “Tell me what Pecora said specifically about the ‘no sex’ thing.”

  She laughed. “Are you trying to find a loophole?”

  “Maggie, my love,” he said, his voice low and husky as he turned fully and wrapped his arms around her, “come here and let me shove my tongue into that sweet pussy of yours.”

  She slapped his chest but couldn’t help the goosebumps that erupted over her skin or the sudden gush of heat that curled in her stomach. “Stop misbehaving.”

  Maggie barely recognized the sound of her own voice. Her nipples beaded as she tried to stop thinking about what his mouth could do to her. That technically wouldn’t be sex and Pecora did say he was concerned about abrupt movement which could re-injure him. Maybe she could just make sure that he didn’t move…

  He wasn’t going to make it easy on her. He nipped her earlobe and trailed kisses along her jaw bone. “You’re my mate and I want you. Besides, letting me taste you isn’t sex.”

  “But it will lead to sex,” she tried, wrapping her arms around his neck instead of pushing him away like she should be doing.

  “Now who am I to stop you if you need my cock that badly? I must make and keep my mate happy. Who am I to deny you your most basic needs?” His eyes were dark as he kissed her neck, his lips trailing over her flesh.

  Her breasts felt heavy. Needy. Oh, forget Pecora and his stupid ass rules.

  “You’re trouble, Jonah,” she murmured pulling back from him.

  He growled his displeasure as she increased the space between them, but then a broad smile crossed his face when she stood up and pulled her t-shirt over her head, followed by the lounge pants. She stood naked in front of him and it wasn’t a second later before he was reaching for her.

  Straddling him, she leaned forward to allow him to close his mouth around her nipple. He reached around her and grasped her cheeks, his finger kneading her flesh.

  “I’ll fuck you but don’t make me regret it by hurting yourself,” she told him with a moan.

  He released her breast to respond, “You’ll never regret it.”

  His tongue went right back to tormenting her breasts as she threw her head back and moaned again. Reaching between them, she freed his cock from the confines of his sweatpants and ran her hand over the hard length. The skin was soft in her hand and she could feel the pulse beneath her fingertips.

  From one side to the other, he nipped and suckled at her. His large palms went from massaging her ass to her thighs and before she knew it, one large finger was sliding through her juices. She sucked in a breath as his fingers slid over her clit once and then again.

  “You’re so wet already,” he said against her flesh. “I want to taste you.”

  He didn’t hesitate to probe her with his thick digit. Sliding in and out, he pressed into the most sensitive spot while toying with her clit with his thumb. He was watching her, gauging her reactions as he touched her.

  After a moment, he pulled his hand from her and lifted his finger to his mouth, tasting her juices. She leaned forward and kissed him, tasting herself on his tongue. Her tongue sought his as she gripped his cock in her hand. She wanted him. He’d already gotten her riled up and she didn’t want to feel him inside of her until he was done toying with h
er sex.

  She lowered herself onto him, allowing his cock to slowly stretch her. He groaned when she seated herself fully on top of him and he dropped his hand to grab her hips. When she started to move, his fingers dug into her flesh.

  Maggie could tell he wanted to set the pace, but she wouldn’t let him. Every time he started to thrust up, she came down on top of him and sat until he calmed himself. His cock was straining, and she knew he was suffering just the beads of sweat that were forming on his brow.

  “I told you, I’m doing this. Not you,” she told him, grasping his hands and pulling them off her hips. She held onto his hands and moved again, bouncing on his lap.

  Her orgasm building quickly, he caught one of her nipples in his mouth as she moved over him. With every thrust, he hit that sweet spot. Toes curling, she ground against him and milked his cock until he let out a long guttural moan. Spurts of heat seared her insides as his cock throbbed.

  She dropped her head to his shoulder as she recovered, panting.

  “Let’s get to the bed,” his murmured against her shoulder.

  “Mmm… yes.”

  Maggie helped him to bed and stripped him out of his clothes. They crawled under the blankets together and he pulled her into his arms. She slept there, content.

  She woke up in the morning to his tongue between her legs, stroking over her clit. He buried his face there, bringing her to orgasm not just once, but twice, before allowing her reprieve.

  “No sex,” he told her as he carefully laid back down next to her. “Good morning.”

  She was speechless for a long moment before she said, “Good morning to you.”

  He stroked himself as he laid next to her and she watched as his cock strained against his hand, the head dark red. She was up in no time then, bent over him as she sucked him into her mouth. Her hand wrapped around the base of his cock, she took him in as deep as she could while stroking him. When his seed spurted into her mouth, she savored him and licked every drop from his skin.

 

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