Guardian’s Bond

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Guardian’s Bond Page 10

by Morgan, Rhenna


  “No, you don’t. You need to feel it. Own it.”

  Surrender to it.

  Words he didn’t dare utter to her. Not yet. Lowering his head, he skimmed his nose alongside hers and inhaled deep. “You want my mouth as much as I want yours. You want to let go and see what waits on the other side.” He eased back only enough to meet her stare, their lips separated only by a thin strip of air. “Take it. Take what’s yours and trust me to keep you safe.”

  The heat in her eyes flashed white-hot and her fingers dug into his muscles as though they were all that kept her from a perilous free fall.

  One second.

  Two.

  And then her lips were on his.

  Full. Soft. Hot and demanding. A ravenous woman unaware of her power, yet claiming her due.

  He gave it to her, palming the back of her head and taking full control. Licking inside her mouth. Stroking his tongue against hers and savoring her unique taste.

  She moaned into his mouth and urged him closer, her hands fisting in his hair. Her teeth grazed his lips as though desperate for more, but frustrated with the uncertainty of how to proceed.

  He had more than enough ideas for both of them. An endless stream of carnal images that fueled the escalating fire between them. He nudged her thigh with his and her legs parted, eagerly cradling his hips.

  Perfect. Soft flesh welcoming his weight. The hard press of his cock against her sex, only the thin slick glide of her jogging shorts and his track pants to separate them.

  She belongs to us.

  Take her.

  Claim her.

  God, he wanted to. Wanted to slick his fingers through her folds. To watch as his shaft sank inside her. To power deep, hear her moans and feel her pussy pulse around him as she came.

  He rolled his hips and she flexed in answer. So responsive. Open and void of pretense.

  Trust me to keep you safe.

  Another promise. One he’d break if he gave in now.

  His cat snarled and the darkness wailed as he pulled away.

  Until she opened her eyes.

  Man, beast and shadow stared down at her, passion-weighted eyelids framing dazed, but dreamy eyes. In that moment, there was nothing between them. Only trust and the beginnings of a fragile bond he’d nearly destroyed with his lust.

  For the first time since his brother’s betrayal, the darkness inside him stood tame and silent beneath her gaze. Dumbfounded. A belligerent child who’d comprehended an Earth-shattering truth and matured in a split second.

  She wasn’t just a possession to be taken or tamed. She was a treasure. To be protected at all costs.

  She’s exactly what you need to find balance.

  “Naomi was right,” he whispered.

  Whether he spoke to Kateri, or to himself he wasn’t sure, but it was her who answered, her voice as easy as the wind drifting off the lake beyond. “Right about what?”

  He braced his forearms on the soft sand and framed her face, the truth giving him hope for the first time in half a century. There was only one thing capable of eradicating shadows. One cure to lift the darkest veil. “You’re my light.”

  Chapter Nine

  Three days Katy had waited. Three very long, awkward days with ample time in Priest’s presence and not one more kiss. Although, she had to admit—getting out of the house after almost a solid week away from society was a huge bonus. Even with high-speed internet and a constant stream of clanspeople stopping by to keep her company or teach her more about her heritage, there was only so much she could take of the same scenery.

  She shifted on the rolling stool she’d stolen from Tate’s section of the tattoo shop and angled her head for a better look at the design Priest painstakingly drew on a burly man’s forearm. Every move was confident. Every stroke as if it were guided by a divine hand instead of his own.

  Okay, so maybe the last three days had been more awkward for her than him. Where she’d been plagued by a heightened awareness and insecurity to rival a pimply teenage girl since their time at the cove, he’d settled into a surprisingly calm demeanor. As assertive and unruffled as the indelible lines he drew on the man in front of her. Far less intense than their first days together.

  No, that wasn’t right. The intensity was still there, but something had happened after he’d kissed her. Something that placated the ravenous hunter. At least for the time being.

  He watched her, though. Constantly. Even when she didn’t catch him in the act—though she did that often because he didn’t hide it—she felt it. As if some unseen force reached out from the very air around her and painted her skin with a sparking awareness. And when she did meet his hungry gaze there was always an undercurrent to it. A silent dare to act on the swirling need she couldn’t seem to douse no matter what she tried.

  Take what’s yours and trust me to keep you safe.

  She wanted to. Badly. But then what? Something told her stepping into more with Priest would be on par with a cataclysmic event rather than scratching a simple itch.

  The customer’s voice cut into her brooding thoughts, the sound as gruff as Hank’s appearance. “Priest is damned good, ain’t he?”

  Good was putting it mildly. Artwork aside, just watching him work left her spellbound. As if the process itself was a sacred endeavor. A fluid meditation.

  And his hands...

  More than once, she’d wished he’d set the iron aside and use them on her the way he had at the lake. Sure, he’d touched her since he’d pulled her to her feet and guided her home that day, often showing casual affection that left her strung out and restless, but nothing strong and possessive like when he’d held her captive for his kiss. The fact that she craved such a repeat was insane. Never once since she’d started dating had she ever gone for the overbearing, controlling type. But with Priest?

  Yeah, everything about him said, Sign me up.

  “He’s very gifted,” she managed.

  Priest paused in his work and lifted his head only enough to make eye contact, a wry smirk crooking one side of his mouth.

  Hank threw back his head and hooted loud enough to rattle the building. “Gifted.” He zeroed in on Priest. “I think that’s fancy speak for able to charge a small fortune.”

  Priest shook his head and went back to work in lieu of an answer, which all but confirmed Hank’s statement.

  That was another thing she’d noticed in the last three days. With most people, Priest was sparing with his words. Not exactly blunt, but frugal in how he went about communicating. Concise and to the point.

  Except with her.

  With her, he’d opened up. Usually after her run while they drank coffee on his raised back porch and watched the sun come up, a routine she’d come to not only welcome, but craved. Another oddity, considering how much she’d always hoarded that special alone time, but she genuinely enjoyed it. How he not only shared when she asked him about what clan life used to be like before his brother sabotaged their future, but actively listened to bits and pieces of her life. As if he valued everything about her, even the parts she found uninteresting.

  The hum of the tattoo iron stopped and Priest’s attention shifted to the side, his gaze distant for three or four seconds before he went back to his work.

  But there was something different in his focus. The shift was subtle. Definitely not something Hank would have noticed, and likely only something she’d picked up on because she’d studied him so closely.

  And it hadn’t been the first time he’d done it either.

  “Kitten, go ask Jade to come bandage Hank up.” Spoken so low and calm, it took Katy an extra heartbeat before his words translated properly in her head.

  Of course, rather than do as he asked, she got a better angle on Priest’s work. “Wow, I didn’t realize how close it was to being done.”

  “Me either,�
� Hank grumbled, though there was a certain amount of appreciation mingled with the statement.

  Priest straightened, studied the finished product a second, then lifted his gaze to her.

  Waiting.

  “Oh. Right.” She hustled out of the private area and found Jade chatting up a couple of young girls at the display case. “Hey, Jade. Priest asked if you could come bandage up Hank.”

  Frowning, Jade held up a finger to the short-haired blonde considering the jewelry beneath the glass. “Give me a second.” She rounded the case and hustled toward Katy. “Something wrong?”

  “Not that I know of. Why?”

  “Because I can count on one hand how many times Priest didn’t finish his own work and still have four fingers left over.”

  Before Katy could puzzle out what that meant, Jade strode into Priest’s private room and planted both hands on her hips. “What’s up?”

  Despite her bold arrival, Priest kept cleaning up his equipment, his back to the room at large. “Need you to bandage Hank up and clear the rest of the day unless Tate can cover my clients.”

  “Tate’s awesome, but he’s not you. We’ll have to reschedule.”

  “Then do it.” Finally turning to meet her stare, Priest gave Jade a look that seemed to say a whole lot more than the words that went with it. “Something’s come up.”

  Yep.

  Definitely one of those unspoken, you get me? looks. And didn’t that just make her want to wade into topics best left untouched?

  “All right, Hank.” Jade plucked a pair of sterile gloves out of the dispenser mounted on the wall and pried them on with as much efficiency as a neurosurgeon. “Looks like you get beauty instead of talent to finish you up today.”

  “Aww, I don’t know about that.” Hank jerked his chin up at Katy and grinned. “The way she’s been eyeballin’ Priest the last three hours, I’d say he factors as pretty in someone’s book.”

  “Reeeally?” Jade settled onto Priest’s stool and waggled her eyebrows at Katy. “Do tell. Did I miss something?”

  Priest tossed his gloves in the trash and turned. “Hank, how about you keep quiet and let Jade focus so she can get you finished up and out of here?”

  “Do I get a discount on the next round?”

  “Do I ever give discounts?”

  Hank’s pout was instant and rivaled that of a two-year-old deprived a promised candy bar. Or at least it was until his gaze slid to Katy. “She gonna be here next time around?”

  Not bothering to give Hank his attention, Priest prowled to Katy, cupped her shoulder and turned her for the door. “Oh, she’ll be here.”

  Hank’s ornery chuckle trailed them into the shop’s main area.

  Despite the light conversation they’d left behind, Katy couldn’t shake her curiosity or the sharp focus coming off Priest. “Is something wrong?”

  He slid his hand to the back of her neck and gave a reassuring squeeze. “Nothing wrong. Just my real job taking precedence over this one.” He knocked on the door to the room where Tate did his tattoos, giggles from the trio of girls who’d disappeared inside an hour ago answering back.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Katy asked.

  Rather than answer, Priest opened the door, scanned the two women off to one side and the third stretched out facedown on the table. Tate sat off to one side, his focus squarely on the tattoo he worked into the skin at the base of her neck. “Hey, what time do you wrap up today?”

  The steady buzz stopped and Tate swiped the ink before he looked up. “Got one more after this and any walk-ins we get. Why, what’s up?”

  The same unspoken communication he’d shared with Jade seemed to move between them, though this time Priest added a little more into the mix. “I’ve got a job to do at home.”

  Understanding sharpened Tate’s gaze and he glanced at Katy. “You want Katy to stay here?”

  “No.” As firm as it came out, he might as well have said, Not a snowball’s chance in hell. “I’ve got at least an hour. Maybe more. She’ll ride home with me.”

  And that was it. Aside from a few man-to-man chin lifts, no other information was shared.

  Katy hustled behind Priest toward the break room, so intent on catching up to him, she nearly plowed into his back when he stopped and gathered his things by the back door. Embarrassed by her clumsiness and the whole puppy dog routine, she backed off and made a show of studying the artwork mounted along one wall, determined to keep her questions to herself.

  Unlike the more simplistic designs intended for walk-in customers up front, the ones here were intricate and solely Priest’s work. All of them featured either animals, nature, or knots and symbols like those inked on his torso, but their detail was so vivid it seemed as if they were real entities frozen in time. Most were in black, but a few had a single accent color interwoven.

  “What did you mean by your real job?”

  Way to go, smooth. Very nonchalant.

  Priest glanced at her and grinned. “The one where I take care of my clan.”

  Well, duh. Kind of a hard detail to forget considering the things she’d heard and seen over the last week. She turned her back and went back to studying the artwork, hoping her cheeks weren’t as red as they were hot.

  “It’s a soul quest, kitten.”

  That got her attention like little else could have. She spun, a host of questions lining up on her tongue. “Someone’s having one now?”

  “No. Not yet. But soon.”

  “But how do you know?”

  He shrugged and stuffed his billfold in his back pocket. “I just know. I feel it. The same way you sense you left a light on at your house or walked away from something you shouldn’t have, only it gets stronger as the person’s time comes.”

  The distance she’d sensed while he was working. That’s what he’d been focused on. And while she understood the analogy on a day-to-day level, the concept of being tied to another person by such a mystical connection was harder to wrap her head around. “That’s odd.”

  “Not really. More like necessary. If I had no warning before the Keeper pulled me to the Otherworld, who knows where I’d be or what I’d be doing. The sensation alerts me. Gives me a chance to get somewhere private.”

  “But what if the person you’re supposed to help is a long way away? How do you get to them fast enough?”

  He smiled, a full one that hinted of mischief and all manner of dirty deeds intended if given the time and opportunity. He stalked toward her. “I’m not with them physically. Only in the Otherworld. Though, you’ll see soon enough.” He turned her, motioned to the designs on the wall and rested his hands on her hips. “If I gave you your own, what would you want?”

  Mounted low on the wall was a black-and-white depiction of a tropical cove, a full moon reflected on the water’s glass-smooth surface with exotic flowers carefully interspersed in the design. A panther padded along the shore’s edge. Not the focal point of the picture, but a powerful presence encroaching and ready to take over.

  So beautiful and uncannily similar to the feelings churning through her.

  “I’m not sure I’m right for a tattoo,” she said, but her answer sounded wistful even to her own ears.

  His heat blanketed her back and his low voice rumbled through her. A wicked caress that left her wanting. Needing. “What I’d give you wouldn’t just be a tattoo. It would be a talisman. A protection.” His fingers tightened on her hips and he inhaled deep, the sound as sensual and primitive as the words that followed. “I want to mark you.”

  A shudder wracked her, and her breath hitched, her hands gripping his corded forearms as if the contact could ground her through the maelstrom he’d created.

  Take what you want.

  God, she wanted to. To arch her shoulders against his hard chest and guide his hands up to her breasts. To feel his l
ips and teeth against the tender junction of her neck and shoulders where his warm breath buffeted against her skin, and the press of his cock against her core. Already her sex was ready. Wet, aching and eager to feel him slip inside. For the claiming stretch of his cock.

  “I’m right here, mihara.” He pressed one hand above her abdomen and flexed his hips against hers. And oh, was he there. Hard as a rock and ready to give her everything she wanted. “Right here. Whatever you need. Everything you need.”

  It would be so easy. A simple yes, or maybe even just an answering touch.

  But then what?

  Three electronic pings sounded in quick succession from across the room, the sound abrupt and irritating in the supercharged silence. Logic urged her to move. To step away while she still could, but another part of her—the one she’d stifled and ignored so much of her life—rallied to ignore the summons. To surrender and simply feel for once in her life.

  Priest pressed a firm kiss to her temple and growled, his cat merging with the openly irritated sound before he stepped away. “Get your phone, kitten. I need to get us both home before I push things too far.”

  The loss of his heat and his solid presence behind her left her adrift, the same drunken sensation she’d experienced after her high school senior cruise, only this time the disorientation originated from deep inside rather than anything to do with balance.

  Before she could clear her head enough to retrieve the device, Priest fetched her purse and handed it over. The ringing stopped before she could answer the call, but her grandmother’s number showed as a missed call on the screen.

  An ironic chuckle bubbled up as she punched the redial button. If Nanna had any idea what she’d just interrupted, she’d be furious with herself. Especially considering how she’d gone out of her way to put Priest and Katy in the same room alone together the last few days.

  Nanna answered on the first ring, her voice more animated than usual and uncustomarily abrupt. “Kateri, is Eerikki with you?”

  At first the name wouldn’t register. Not until Priest tensed and zeroed in on the phone clutched against Katy’s ear.

 

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