Evalle and Storm

by Dianna Love

  He nuzzled her hair and murmured, “What’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours?”

  Evalle smiled. “You can’t figure it out with all your gifts, Mr. Lie Detector?” She nipped his ear.

  He slowed his hands for a moment then pulled her close again and sighed. “I will never get enough of feeling you next to me.”

  Just the sound of his voice wrapped her in comfort, reminding her there were no monsters to battle here. Not even the ones in her head could squeeze into this moment.

  Storm had been right to bring her home.

  He’d looked ready to argue with the entire Belador clan over taking her here until Garwyli shut down any dissent.

  Home.

  Even the air here tasted familiar.

  She’d either find a way back to the person she’d been before her capture, or she’d figure out how to be a new version of herself.

  If she didn’t, she’d ruin what made her life with Storm special.

  Snuggling her hips closer, she smiled over proof her mate was indeed happy to have her home.

  He’d returned to being cautious around her in Treoir.

  She didn’t want that.

  She wanted her man.

  His heartbeat kicked up when she’d moved just now. He brushed hair away from her neck and kissed her. His words came out rough. “Be careful what you start, sweetheart.”

  She squeezed her eyes at the caution in his tone. They’d moved way past him having to take it slow around her in the early days. She’d been so messed up at first, it had pushed him back to tiptoeing around while she healed.

  No more.

  Her time in that vicious realm had been brutal, but she wouldn’t allow it to steal one more thing precious to her.

  Reaching deep for the playful side he’d always loved, she teased, “Is warning me to be careful the same as saying you have a headache?”

  He stilled and didn’t answer.

  Damn. Had she sounded ridiculous?

  That had been a stupid move, now Storm would feel uncomfortable around her. How could she screw up this moment when being intimate had always been so natural for them?

  Gripping her hips, he lifted her in the air.

  She grabbed his shoulders and stared down at him. “What?”

  “You. What do you want?”

  Heart pounding a crazy beat, she lifted an eyebrow. “Am I going to have to train you all over again?” she taunted.

  He laughed and shook his head. “I’ve missed you.”

  She gushed out a breath of relief and admitted, “I’ve missed us, too.”

  He whispered words she couldn’t translate.

  Her pants unzipped and slid from her legs. She shuddered at the feel of the material pulled across her sensitive skin. Panic and thrill raced through her.

  He ordered, “Keep your hands on my shoulders.”

  The tail of her T-shirt bunched and moved up slowly, brushing over her bare breasts.

  She clenched her legs at the friction over her nipples. “Storm ... I need you ... now.” That usually worked to get him inside her. The sooner that happened, the better.

  “I need you, too, sweetheart. Do you trust me?”

  She had a moment of worry. Storm’s empathic sense would pick up any hesitation on her part, which meant he’d probably caught her worry.

  Not an emotion that encouraged getting fully naked.

  She held his fierce gaze, determined to show him she would meet him step for step in whatever he wanted to do. “Yes. I trust no one the way I do you.”

  She must’ve gotten it right and he picked up a different emotion this time. He gave her a seductive grin.

  She matched it with her own sincere one. “Now, will you hurry the hell up?” she demanded, sounding more like herself.

  “Hell, no. We’re finally alone and I’m in no hurry.”

  “What if I am?” she argued.

  “You’ll like this better,” he assured her. Then her panties slid slowly down her legs.

  “You’re killing me,” she muttered, wanting to run her hands over her breasts and ease the ache or get her hands on him to return the torture. “You still have all your clothes on.”

  With another briskly spoken phrase, his jeans ripped and flew off him, leaving her commando mate in all his hard glory. He whispered and a condom slid over him. Her man thought of everything.

  Heat pooled in her womb from anticipation alone.

  He lowered her and she hooked her legs around him, anticipation building to slide into place. She couldn’t be more ready, but he paused with her poised just above that moment of connection.

  She would not beg. He had to give in, right?

  But Storm showed no strain at holding her.

  Her gaze locked with his for the longest seconds, then he lifted her just enough to bring her breast to his mouth. His tongue toyed with her nipples and she strained against him, trembling with the need to feel him deep inside.

  He switched to the other breast, biting gently, but that sharp pinch had her shuddering hard.

  Wrapping an arm under her, he used his free hand to reach between her legs.

  His touch felt like the first time he’d made love to her.

  She bowed back and clenched her legs hard, clamping her teeth tight to not plead. Her mate had gifted fingers that knew everything about her. He teased her until she lost all thought, clinging to the edge of sanity, waiting, shaking, then giving up and pleading.

  His fingers changed pace, stroking and pushing into her. He shoved her beyond reason into a cloud of frantic sensation.

  When she peaked, her muscles were as limp as overstretched springs.

  Lowering her, he held her close, but she needed to be lower. The tip of his erection brushed over her sensitive skin.

  “More,” she mumbled, daring him to refuse her.

  When he kept her just out of reach, she lifted her head from his shoulder and kissed him. She wanted the strength of her love to come through this kiss, to let him know they were still as solid as ever.

  She might never be a powerful Belador again, but she could do this. Be Storm’s mate.

  He kissed her back as if his life depended upon this very moment. She got so engrossed she had a nice surprise when he lowered her until he pushed inside.

  That dragged an honest moan from her.

  He continued easing his way deeper in until he filled her.

  That sensation described their relationship. Storm filled up all the empty places that had been dead inside her. His love gave her life.

  He held her there and closed his eyes for a second. When he opened those beautiful brown orbs, he spoke in a shuddering breath. “This ... us ... you are everything I need.”

  She leaned in and kissed him with everything she felt for this man, savoring the way he returned the emotion with every touch. His tongue slid past her teeth to toy with hers.

  When she took a breath, she said, “This ... us ... you are my reason for living. I love you.”

  He buried himself inside her and she hugged her legs tight around him.

  Moving in and out, he drove her back to the fevered pitch she’d been in only moments ago. She clawed at his shoulder, desperate for more.

  She gasped, “Deeper.”

  On the next push, he buried himself and stopped, shaking with the effort to hold back.

  Running her hands into his hair, she kissed him, tangling her tongue with his until they were breathless. When she could speak, she asked, “What are you waiting for?”

  “You,” he whispered next to her ear.

  “I’m ready.”

  “Look at me, sweetheart.”

  She lifted her gaze. Her breath caught at the heat burning his. Without blinking, she gave him a sexy order. “Do it. Now.”

  He pulled out and shoved in again, this time harder and faster, never blinking. He held her gaze as his prisoner. Muscles in his neck stood out and his shoulders were solid as stone beneath her fingers.

&nbs
p; She moved with him.

  He pushed one forceful time.

  Tension held her at the edge, then tightened, and snapped, freeing her from everything except feeling. Her body burst with pleasure. She rode the wave that broke hard then calmed.

  In two more strokes, he gripped her with shaking arms and gained his release.

  Nothing could ever match being in Storm’s arms, feeling him connected to her emotionally and physically. She floated in the half-world of postclimax, indulging in the smell of them and their love.

  Wrapping her arms around him, she smiled.

  If Adrianna’s attempt didn’t work, Evalle’s life might be different moving forward. If so, she’d have to figure out how to adjust and make the new her work.

  Holding her with ease, Storm turned and walked inside, rubbing her back the entire time.

  He’d be happy if she never stepped into the path of danger again, but he also knew how unrealistic that’d be for her.

  She’d worry about that tomorrow once Adrianna had a shot at using her power.

  Evalle dreaded telling Storm, but she couldn’t in good conscious go to the witch without him knowing.

  When he reached the landing for their living area, Storm announced, “You know what I want now?”

  Based on how hard he still felt inside her, she could make a guess. She squeezed him in reply.

  “Clearly you and I are not on the same wavelength.” He gave her a put-upon sigh.

  Had she been wrong?

  Lifting her head off his shoulder, she expected to see him confused or annoyed.

  Humor flitted through his gaze.

  Before she could come up with a snappy comment, he said, “Don’t get me wrong, sweetheart. I’m always interested in another round with you, but I thought we’d grab some food. The food on Treoir is excellent, but I miss eating in the human realm.”

  Talk about the power of persuasion. “Now that you mention it, I’m starving.”

  He accused in faux hurt, “You’d toss me aside that easily for food?”

  “Maybe.” She grinned and qualified, “Depends on the restaurant.”

  “Six Feet Under?”

  Her favorite restaurant. “That is a great big yes. I just got my fill of you ... literally,” she laughed.

  He moved his hips again, pulling out then sliding back in.

  She groaned, “Screw food. I’ll survive.”

  “Nope. You already passed on me,” he teased. “Besides, you’ll need your strength for what I have in mind later.” Lifting her off, he held her until her legs were steady then suggested, “You go shower and I’ll go back for our clothes Daegan is teleporting.”

  “I suppose, if that’s the best excuse you have.”

  He leaned in to kiss her and dropped his head to a breast, giving a quick nip then licking it.

  She yelped. “Thought you wanted me to shower.”

  “I do, but I want you thinking about me the whole time.”

  Never one to be outdone, she turned to leave, then called out, “Oh, I’ll think about how you left me wanting. It may turn into a one-person party.”

  “Damn. You better not,” he warned.

  “Then hurry up,” she ordered. It felt good to banter with him again. Normal.

  Her kind of normal.

  After grabbing clean clothes, she hurried through the shower, rushing to get ready and look extra nice for him.

  If only she knew how to add pizzazz.

  Lanna could make that happen.

  Since the young woman wasn’t here to help, Evalle would just do the best with what she had. She brushed out her damp hair with no choice but to pull it back in her usual ponytail.

  When she checked the arm wound Storm had healed, her attention stopped.

  The strange black lines that had started just below her armpit and moved down were now an inch longer. Searching her body, she located a spot on her thigh the size of her index finger, then another on her back. That one appeared six inches long and had a wider spread with the lines split four times.

  Lifting her left arm, which hadn’t been wounded today, she touched the black fractured lines there.

  They extended another inch then divided into new streaks.

  She snatched her hand back and stared hard for a minute to see if any of it moved again. No.

  Had her touch made the line extend? Were the inky designs a good or bad sign?

  She still didn’t feel any sensation of her gryphon.

  Pointing the same finger at a towel hanging on a rack, she tried to lift it off the hook using kinetics.

  The towel lifted up and started toward her then dropped to the ground.

  Crap. What had she thought? That teleporting home would suddenly return her body to its original state? Actually, yes. She’d expected her kinetic power to have recovered by now.

  Was she losing that ability entirely?

  Bile rushed up her throat.

  Had coming home changed something about the lines? Maybe she was overthinking this.

  The inky marks could be nothing more than a preternatural form of varicose veins or a cosmetic issue.

  Had Storm seen the new lines on her in the garage?

  Or had showering caused more to appear?

  She dressed in one of her vintage short-sleeved BDU—Battle Dress Uniform—shirts, jeans, and her boots that hid sharp blades for battling. She might not be facing demons any time soon but wearing them brought a level of normalcy for her.

  Squirting a drop of lotion in her hand, she brushed it over her face. Her gaze returned to the black jagged streaks that reminded her of the root from a cartoon tree.

  Her body had been declared free of Noirre majik, but ... what if they were wrong and she had residue?

  A crazy mage had forced that majik into her damaged body and fed it into her bloodstream and organs while she’d been captive. What if these lines on her skin were signs of the dark majik trying to leach out ... or take over?

  Would Adrianna’s Witchlock fix this power drain or ... force whatever was happening to Evalle’s body to escalate?

  She had to sound convincing when she told Storm her idea, which might be hard when she had serious doubts herself.

  CHAPTER 8

  Storm followed Evalle down the steps from the top floor of Six Feet Under where they’d sat outside where the smell of fried fish had mingled with the fresh air. He’d enjoyed watching her eat her favorite meal at her favorite place. Getting in on a Saturday night had been tough, but worth the wait.

  Eating late at night had been their norm in the past. It was good to slowly get their life back.

  Ten minutes into the meal, he’d relaxed at his first respite from constant worry.

  “I want to check on my Gixxer sometime,” Evalle said over the crowd from a step below him. “I may be able to fix it.”

  “Sure, we’ll do that and see what it needs. Can we do that tomorrow?” Storm cringed at the thought of showing her the motorcycle she loved for the first time since the intentional wreck that left her vulnerable to kidnapping. Evalle had the skills to repair anything on her bike, but Storm doubted anyone could return the mangled parts he’d shoved in a back corner of the garage to the bike’s original look.

  She stepped around people stalled on the stairs working their way up. “Tomorrow is fine.”

  At the bottom landing, patrons crowded the area between the stairs and the hostess stand next to the front door. Storm took Evalle’s hand and wove their way outside.

  Her fingers seemed warmer than normal.

  He had to bite his tongue not to ask if she felt okay.

  No hovering.

  When they reached the sidewalk, Evalle stared at the cemetery across the street, then turned to him. “When are you going to call your uncle?”

  “I plan to as soon as ... ” Storm reached for his back pocket to retrieve the phone, surprised it had stopped vibrating.

  No phone. Damn.

  He’d left it on the table, under a
napkin to dull the buzzing of another message. Why the hell couldn’t his uncle leave him alone? If not for the damn constant sound, Storm wouldn’t be standing here torn over leaving his mate even for a minute.

  Evalle asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Left my phone upstairs.” He wanted to drag her back up so she would be close to him. That sounded stupid in his head.

  Sending her up to the get phone would be a dick move even if the thought had been only to keep her safe.

  “Want me to get your phone?” Evalle asked with a bit of confusion.

  “No,” Storm said, dismissing his mental battle and silently cursing Bidziil for creating problems. Again. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll be right here,” she countered with a wink.

  Would she?

  He had to get past this incessant fear of her vanishing again. Heading back inside, he passed a group of six diners on their way out. They congregated on the sidewalk, which gave him a little comfort for her to have people close even if they were humans.

  He politely moved through the throngs as quickly as he could to retrieve the damn phone that probably had yet another message from his uncle.

  The last one said he needed Storm’s help, but the man still gave no hint as to what kind.

  Before the kidnapping, Storm had intended to give his uncle a heads-up out of respect before he brought Evalle to visit his father’s land for bonding. He had no intention of visiting the man.

  Their ceremony felt too far away to wait for now after sensing less of Evalle’s energy tonight when they made love. By tomorrow, she might be the one pushing to bond immediately.

  His uncle could wait.

  Had Bidziil forgotten Storm’s status as a Skinwalker?

  Storm had no desire to be unkind to his father’s brother, but neither did he wish to encourage a relationship.

  Rushing back down the stairs and getting cursed at for gently pushing his way through the crowd, he stepped outside. The six people he’d passed on his way in were still saying their goodbyes.

  His blood pressure dropped significantly with the knowledge these people were perfectly fine, so Evalle had to be.

  Circling them with the intention of asking Evalle if she’d like to walk for a bit, Storm stopped short.

  No Evalle.