He releases me, and not looking back, steps to the door. “I’ll wait for you in the living room,” he murmurs.
I stand frozen to the spot. Did that just happen?
I close my eyes.
Oh my god.
Nash? Just hit on me? And I encouraged him?
What?
I never, in a million years, would’ve thought — I blow out a great big breath and shake my head to clear it. It’s just been a long time since Dillon.
Phone. I stare at the thing in my hand. What was I going to do with it?
Note. Make a note of the van at Cruz’s gate. What was the name of the service again? All something. All weather? All Seasons!
I tap open the note app and make a new folder, title it ‘Neighbors’ and enter the name of the service, the date and the general time that the van arrived. Done.
There are several indicators on my calendar icon for tomorrow. I open it to see what they are. I’m meeting Garrett at Jelly U mid-morning and Nash at the gym at three. And, tomorrow is Nash’s birthday. I haven’t gotten him a gift yet.
The phone set aside, I finish undressing and put on my worship robe.
Still feeling Nash’s touch, I pause just outside the master bedroom.
What if he continues the flirtation? What would happen if he did? I can guess. Do I want that to happen? Yes, I do. Making love with Nash would be a fantasy come true. Considering what his fingertips did to me, I bet he’d be an amazing lover.
On the other hand, being with Nash means torpedoing the budding relationship with Ben. I like Ben. I love Nash.
Shit. I suck in and blow out a breath through my teeth. I don’t know what to do. This complication has to be thoroughly analyzed before I do anything rash.
chapter twenty
IN THE LIVING room, I sit in a chair facing the hall. Waiting patiently, knowing she’ll have on her robe and nothing else. Damn. I shift in the chair, begging my cock to have mercy on me.
Finally, I hear a door open and her soft footsteps coming down the hall. Even her walk is erotic.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey.”
She stands there for a moment, frozen and nervous.
“So.” She walks toward the kitchen, the silky robe moving about her legs. “I have no idea what’s in this kitchen.”
“There’s beer in the fridge.”
“Oh? Did you see any hot tea?” She’s trying hard to act normal, but I hear the tremor in her voice.
“No.” I follow her into the kitchen. “But I didn’t look.” I should have had this kitchen stocked, too.
I’m quiet, just lean on the kitchen counter, hands under my arms watching her open cupboards. She gets down a mug with a shaky hand. Damn it. I don’t want to scare her or freak her out.
She finds some instant decaf coffee, but no tea.
“I’ll buy some tomorrow if I get a chance to go grocery shopping,” she says, setting a mug of water in the microwave to heat.
“Speaking of tomorrow.” She turns to me. “Do you want to go to dinner? Keep it under fifty bucks and it’s my treat.”
“What? Why?” She’s asking me out?
“To celebrate your birthday, silly.”
“My birthday,” I murmur.
“You forgot your own birthday?”
“Looks like.” I frown. “But you remembered?”
“Of course I did.”
She remembered my birthday. I grin.
She smiles back. “When was the last time you celebrated your birthday?”
I tilt my head, thinking. “Eighteen and of course twenty-one.”
“Ah. The obligatory being-of-legal-age bar hop,” she grins.
I nod, staring at her soft lips.
“Isn’t eighteen the year I made you a cake?”
“Oh, yeah.” I grimace. It was the worst cake I’d ever had, but I ate it anyway. Shav made it. What else could I do? “I can’t do dinner tomorrow. A case I’m working is showing some movement. I’ll be on a stakeout.” I don’t tell her about the hunters we think might be on the move.
The microwave beeps. She pops it open and reaches in for the mug. She hisses and pulls her hand back, splashing hot water all over.
Damn it. I move fast, turning on the cold water and shoving her hand under it at the same time. I make her keep it there for a few seconds. “Better?”
She nods and tries to take her hand back. I don’t let her. I tighten my grip and put my other hand on her shoulder, keeping her in place — touching her. The robe shifts enough to expose the swell of her right breast.
“Let me see,” I murmur, lifting her fingers. They’re pink, but otherwise okay.
“Thank you,” she says.
I like this. Being able to touch her, showing her that I want her — want her bad. I kiss each pink finger. “When you go shopping, get some microwave safe mugs, huh?”
She nods and tugs her hand back. I let her have it so she can finish making the coffee and take a sip.
“Ugh.” She spits it into the sink.
“That good, huh?”
“It’s disgusting.” She pours it out.
I chuckle at the goofy face she makes.
She smiles. “You’ve got a nice laugh.”
“I do?” I stare at her throat and vee of skin above her robe.
“Uh, huh. I haven’t heard it much since we were kids. What’s going on, Nash?”
“What do you mean?” I turn and leave the kitchen.
She follows me.
“You know what I mean. You’ve touched me more today than you have in the last — oh, I don’t know, seven or so years combined.”
“I told you. The plan has changed.”
“What plan? Why are you here now?”
“Doing what I always do — making sure you’re safe.” I ignore the other question. “I’ve checked in on you every night since I’ve been back. I’m not shirking my duty now.”
“So, this change in plans. Want to fill me in on it?”
Not yet. “It’s on a need to know basis.” I lean on the entry table. “Right now, you need to know how to get in and out of here without setting off the alarm.”
Taking her unburned hand, I pull her closer to the front door, stand behind her and tap on the security system pad mounted next to it.
“How do you know the code?” She asks.
“I installed it,” I smirk.
“Of course you did. You have a key, too, don’t you?”
“What do you think?” I continue on. “There are two codes. One for the main house and different one for your apartment.”
“Let me get my phone to make a note of them.”
She turns to go. I wrap an arm around her waist to stop her. “Uh, uh, baby. You keep it up here.” I gently tap the side of her temple. I’ve held her like this before — during training. Right now, it feels different. Intimate. Sensual. Silky robe and warm flesh under it.
I swallow and steel myself against the wonderful feeling. I need to teach her the security system.
“I’ll forget and set it off, again,” she says kind of breathy.
My touch making you breathless, baby?
“I’d rather that happen than someone finding the code and getting in unnoticed.” I smile.
She wrinkles her cute little nose.
“Hey. This is important. You tell no one these codes. No friends. Not Garrett. Not even Cherie. Absolutely no one.”
“Alright. I’ll try, but you know me and numbers.”
I grin and tighten my arm around her. “You’ll remember these. They’re combinations of our old addresses in the Springs.”
Pursing her lips in a smile, she says, “Well aren’t you clever.”
“Yep.” I kiss her temple. Mmmmm. So sweet. “In your apartment, our addresses are merged and used backwards — starting with the last number of the Gentil house, then the last number of the LaFontaines, second to last of yours, second to last of mine and so on.”
“It’
s eight digits total then?”
“Yeah. Go ahead. Tap in the code and hit stay.”
She steps to the pad. When she does, my hand slips lower to her hip. I don’t move it and she doesn’t make me. As she inputs the numbers, I caresses her there — wishing it was her bare skin.
“Good girl.” I step closer and press myself to her back, curling my arm around her front to hold her to me. My mouth right next to her ear, I murmur softly. “When you come home, you put in the code and then press the stay button. That activates the doors and windows but not your interior motion detectors.”
She’s trapped between me and the wall.
“I have motion detectors?” She whispers, again with her breathy voice.
I’m getting to her. “Uh, huh.” I caress her cheek and nuzzle throat. “When you’re leaving, enter the code and press the away button. Once you do, you’ve got a minute to get out before they come on.”
“Oh.”
The pulse in her throat is going wild. So is my wolf. I pant into her ear, press my cock to her back, let her know how fucking turned on I am.
“The main house alarm works the same. Again, the code is a combination of our old addresses. In the main house, start with the first number of my old address, followed by the first Gentil number and so on.”
“Got it. I should be able to remember those.”
“I think you will.” I kiss her earlobe. It’s so soft.
“And the stop code?” She sucks in a breath.
“I don’t want you to have it, baby.” I bite lightly on the lobe.
“Oh.” She moans and rolls her head to the side, giving me better access.
The part of my brain that’s working says I shouldn’t be doing this, but damn — the sounds she makes, her scent. I hum and nibble on the lobe more.
“Why? And what is a stop code?” She pants out.
“The stop code keeps the cavalry away.” From ear to shoulder, I lick her throat. Yum. Delicious.
“Nash.” She gasps. Goosebumps rise on her arms.
“You’re so sensitive.” I lightly nip where neck and shoulder meet.
Her mewls almost sound like a cat’s purr.
“I like that sound, Shav.”
Bet everything I own, that her little pearls are hard right now. I glance down. Oh, yeah. I caress her ribcage through the fabric.
“What were we talking about?” She murmurs.
I chuckle. “Stop codes.”
“Right. I should have the stop code for false alarms like tonight.”
“No, you shouldn’t. If it goes off, I want someone to come check on you.” Me. I’ll come check on you. I slide one hand under the sleeve of the robe. Damn. That’s some soft skin, right there. The other hand goes a little higher on her ribs.
“If I can shut off the alarm I’m okay.” She barely spits out the words between pants. She’s arching. She wants me to touch her tits.
I can’t, baby. One touch and I’m taking you right here against this wall.
I continue to caress and nuzzle as we talk. “Not true,” I say. “Someone can snip a wire to make it stop. There’s no way to know if you turned it off or if someone else did.”
“Can’t they just snip the wire before they trip the alarm?”
She whimpers at the wet kisses I taste her throat with.
“Uh, huh, they can, smarty pants. Doing that automatically sets off everything — siren, lights and a call to the cavalry.”
“A little overkill, don’t you think?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Overkill means you’re safe.” I run my nose along the side of her jaw before lifting my head. I’m losing control. My wolf is right there. He wants her right the fuck now. “And you were right.” I step back a little.
She snickers gleefully. “Finally, the almightily Nash realizes that I am always right.”
“Not always.” I grin. “But I’m glad you moved here. You are safer here than your old place. Now I won’t have to stay parked outside. Maybe I can get some work done.”
“You parked outside?”
I gently turn her around and nod. I kiss her forehead and then the extreme edge of her mouth.
“I gotta go, baby,” I whisper with a nuzzle. I gotta get the hell out of here before my beast takes over. I let her go and turn to the door.
“Wait,” she murmurs.
I turn.
You want me to stay? Say it, baby and I will. Ben will understand.
She swallows. I know from her sigh that she isn’t ready. “Are we still on for training tomorrow? Since you’re busy with a case, I mean?” She asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “You’re my priority, Shav. Always.”
I tap the code and open the door. Looking at her with the robe slightly open and her sparkling eyes. Damn I want to stay. Soon. I’ll have her soon. I smile, step through the door and shut it.
chapter twenty-one
“IT’S ALMOST MIDNIGHT.” With my phone in hand, I stand in the center of my newfound circle. Cherie’s on FaceTime with me as is Lauralynn Taylor, or Ells as we like to call her. All three of us are blonde. Cherie leans toward platinum honey, while Ells and I have a slight red hues. Ells and I are so similar in coloring and build that we’re often mistaken for sisters.
“It’s so cool that magick works via FaceTime,” Lauralynn says.
“Witches can reach through dimensions of lives and time. Why not up to a satellite and back down?” Cherie says.
I laugh. “Thank you both for helping me.”
“Can you pan the circle again? Let us get another visual?”
“Sure, Ells.” I do a slow turn.
“It looks huge,” Cherie breathes in reverence.
“It is — a proper coven of thirteen circle.” I dock the phone in the stand at my feet, tilting up so they can see me, and drop my robe. Practicing in the nude is a witchcraft tradition, one I try to honor when possible.
“Ready? I’ll start.” I lift my athame, the ceremonial knife Mom gave to me on my tenth birthday. She said it came from Gaul, the ancient land that the world now calls France. Holding the tool with the reverence it deserves, I create a pentagram.
As I make the five-point star, I call on my ancestors and the elements.
“Hear me elders, hear me spirits, hear my words and give them merits.” I score the ground to begin the top peak of the star, then draw down to the right leg — “aided by fire” — up to the left arm — “water” — across to the right — “air” — down to the left point — “ and earth”.
I finish the star by connecting to the top point.
“The hour is upon us to prepare our sacred space. Come spirits, ancestors and elements to this time that is not a time, this place that is not a place. Witches of the past, thy strength with ours merge in this sacred circle we cast.”
Oh. A tremendous power reaches through the earth and surges up around me. My fingertips tingle around the athame, the energy caressing up my arms to spread to every inch of my skin.
Wow. It’s wonderful.
“Shavone, your hair is floating,” Lauralynn says.
“There’s a lot of power here. I can feel every witch who has worshipped in this circle.”
“Let’s bless our new ventures with it,” Cherie whispers.
“Midnight is the witching hour, by wax and by wick, please work thy power. Brimstone, moon and witches fire, thy blessings I shall now acquire.” The candles I placed on the rocks flare.
Lauralynn and Cherie chant with me.
“Grant our beseeching request that our ventures work out and for the very best. New jobs, new homes, may good fortunes freely roam.”
We meditate for a few minutes, thinking of our goals and what we want to accomplish.
When we’re ready, all three of us say, “By the power of three, so mote it be. Harming none this spell is done.”
The candles snuff themselves out and the warming energy dissipates, but not completely. Some clings to my skin.
&n
bsp; “Wow. I felt the power blow down the Flatirons here in Boulder,” Cherie says.
Lauralynn nods. “A zephyr flew through my room here in Santa Fe, too. That is one impressive circle.”
“You’re in Santa Fe?” Cherie asks.
“Yeah. I’m working a project here before Gab’s wedding,” Ells says.
“She’s going through with it, then?” I gather up the candles.
“Yep. Looks like.” Cherie shakes her head.
We’re silent. None of us think she’s in love with her groom. Finally, Lauralynn speaks up. “You’ll be there, Shav?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Alright. See ya. Être sûr,” Ells says.
Être sûr, depending on context, means be safe or be certain.
“Être sûr.” Cherie smiles and signs off, too.
Despite the plush mattress and deluxe linens of my new bed, I can’t sleep. And not due to the reoccurring dream, either. I never get deep enough into sleep to have it.
It’s just one of those nights when my brain won’t shut down. Brain? No. Let’s be honest. It’s my body that won’t shut down and relax. Every nerve ending relives Ben’s touch, then Nash’s, then Ben’s, then Nash’s again.
Finally dozing for a few hours, my mind fills with both of them — at the same time. Nash hungrily suckling my breasts while Ben literally kisses my behind and fondles me. I wake, panting, with a sheen of perspiration over my entire body and my hand on my engorged clit. I think I audibly moaned in my sleep.
My inner muscles clench deliciously. Though I’ve dated and kissed guys, my sex drive seemed to have died with Dillon. I loved Dillon, love his memory. My dream tells me that I’m ready to move beyond mourning. I frown, feeling disloyal and liberated at the same time.
Starting with Ben’s caresses in the bar and his searing goodnight kisses when he walked me home, my libido has been steadily revving up.
I suppose I should be grateful to Ben and even to Nash. I’m a young woman and I want to feel like one, live like one. Dillon would be horrified that it’s taken me this long.
I roll over to my back and close my eyes, allow myself to fantasize a bit longer. What would it feel like? I fondle my breasts with one hand and slide the other between my legs. I imagine that it’s Ben’s tongue finding the super sensitive bundle of nerves there. And that it’s Nash’s mouth pulling and sucking my nipples into hard beads.
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