“Then use them and immediately omit the word boner from your vocabulary.”
Unable to maintain maturity for another second, Kegan started cracking up, and Weylin laughed with him while tipping back his booze. “I can see how a party like this might be scary for a young girl,” he agreed, wiping his mouth. “But Bri doesn’t look scared.”
“That’s my point,” Quin returned. “As long as I’m looking out for her, she doesn’t have to be afraid. When she’s ready to take control, I’ll back off.”
“You think she’ll tell you?”
“She won’t have to.”
“Of course she won’t. You know it’s freaky how you do that shit.”
“What shit? Look at people?”
“Sure, if you’re in the mood to simplify it.”
More witches arrived, filling the clearing with bright auras and beautiful bodies, and when Abigail dropped in wearing a gown that accentuated her curves, Quin clearly felt the sexual tension spike. And not just his own. Every wizard in the clearing had already gotten an eyeful. Quin searched her aura, wondering if she knew she was being ogled and how she felt about it. As far as he could tell, she did know, and she loved it, especially when she found him staring.
She flashed a cool smile, as if she was fully aware of the tormenting arousal she ignited him, a smile promising to calm the storm, but then she left it raging and turned to greet other people.
Weylin quietly laughed and shook his head. “Told you, man. She’s got her sights set on you.”
“Let’s play hockey,” Quin suggested, needing a release for the pressure.
Weylin leapt to his feet. “Hell, yeah.”
Quin stood, but before flying into the air to cast a rink, he found Brietta sitting on the ground and knelt beside her. “We’re playing hockey,” he whispered. “Don’t leave this clearing or go into anyone’s tent.”
“I’ll watch you play,” she assured. “Will you make the rink and goals glow?”
“Yeah.”
Her aura brightened as she grabbed Caitlyn’s hand. “Glow in the dark hockey.”
While Quin burned off some aggression on the ice, he kept a close eye on Brietta and Abigail, monitoring their drinks and noting every wizard who stopped to flirt with them. They both sat in midair, not too far from each other, watching the game while chatting with everyone around them, but neither got overly friendly with their visitors. Brietta drank water, and Abigail sipped on the same cocktail through two games.
Shit. Quin was running out of excuses for denying his body the pleasure of sex with Abigail. She was sober and untethered and keeping her aim on him.
As he was discarding his shoes and leaving the ice, he took another moment to study Brietta – her small body and tucked shoulders, her excited and happy smile, and her cautious and curious gaze. Then there was her aura, which was drawn close to her body but denser than usual, its flow sporadic, her senses overwhelmed. She was having fun and thrilled to be there, but she was also guarded and acutely aware of herself and her surroundings. She was a perfect portrait of a girl in bloom, but it was strikingly obvious she hadn’t yet blossomed. Abigail, on the other hand, painted the opposite picture. She was in her element, her aura and body on display and begging for attention.
Quin landed next to his tent and tossed his shirt aside. Then he summoned his wine and a joint. He’d been staying sober for Brietta’s sake, but it was past midnight, and she’d be leaving soon. He finished the joint with Weylin and Kegan before she left, but he took it easy on the wine until he watched Brietta fly away with Caitlyn and Maeveen.
“She’s too damn young,” Kegan complained.
Quin raised an eyebrow at his best friend, trying to figure out why Brietta’s natural progression into their world burned him so badly, but then Weylin threw a massive arm around Quin’s shoulders and made him slosh wine from his bottle.
“We’re playing cards,” Weylin said, dragging him along. “Strip poker.”
Quin quickly summoned his shirt and scanned the remaining party guests. “There’s a big age gap here.”
“The seniors are leaving,” Weylin countered. “No one left over seventeen, and the youngest witch is only a year younger than you.”
Quin couldn’t help but wonder if his dad ever played strip poker as a teen. Probably. Nearly two dozen local teens were already gathered around a long table, ready to bet their clothes on a game of cards. Considering their tight knit communities, most of their parents probably shared a similar game decades ago.
Weylin steered Quin to a seat across from Abigail then plopped down beside him, an excited grin curving over his scruff.
Abigail returned Weylin’s smile, fully aware the prospect of seeing her undress was what put it there. Then she turned her attention to Quin and leaned forward. Her cleavage swelled, her breasts squished against the table and nearly popping from her plunging neckline. “Are you any good at poker?”
Quin focused on her eyes and tried to avoid her chest. If he struggled this much when she was dressed, he’d have a hell of a time keeping his gaze up when she stripped. “I’m not bad at it,” he answered, hoping all the witches had added layers for the game. At least one had. Her brother was there and had made her don every article of clothing he had in his bag.
“Lies,” Weylin accused. “Don’t fall for it, Abby. Quin’s a damn good poker player and will know if you bluff.”
“Good advice,” she replied. “But I’m not an amateur either. My grandpa taught me.”
Quin knew her grandpa – Winston Bryant. He’d played poker with Quin’s grandpa on several occasions. Quin had sat in on a few games over the years and had seen Winston pull in plenty of wins, but Quin was better.
Weylin eyed Abigail’s confident aura while shuffling the cards. “How many layers do you have on, Abby?”
“Three.”
“Bikini?”
“Yes.”
Weylin smiled to himself then started dealing the cards. Each round was narrowed down until two people faced off against each other, and unless one of them folded, choosing instead to take a shot and endure endless ribbing, both hands were played and the loser removed a layer of clothing. In less than an hour, five girls were in their bikinis, one was topless, Quin was the only wizard with a shirt on, and the two drunkest wizards were fully exposed. Neither Abigail nor Quin had lost a final battle or faced off against each other, which didn’t please Weylin at all.
He threw an elbow into Quin’s ribs as he whispered his disapproval. “You’re slacking. You could have had her naked already.”
“For whose sake?” Quin countered. “Yours?”
“Yes,” Weylin emphatically answered.
Quin laughed and looked at his cards. “You’re a pig, Wey.”
It took another four hands for Quin and Abigail to meet in a final battle, and when they did, the wizards in the crowd grew quiet, raptly staring at Abigail while waiting for the dress to come off. Quin had her beat. He knew he had her beat. She was confident in her hand, but not confident enough. All he had to do was call, but guilt gnawed at him, making him feel like a complete ass for stripping a virgin in front of a gawking crowd.
When it was his turn to stay in or bow out, Weylin mind search him. ‘You better lay that shit down, Quin. She volunteered for this. Just once, for Ava’s sake, stop being so damn responsible and have some fun.’
Quin let Weylin finish his lecture. Then he blocked his mind while taking a big swig of wine. Once the bottle was on the table, he found Abigail’s eyes, hoping his own didn’t portray his guilt and anticipation. “Call.”
Weylin slapped the table, his smile widening as his aura brightened. “Let’s see them?” he urged, talking about the cards but focused on the breasts.
Quin tossed his cards on the table, unconcerned about the shirt he had on the line, but Abigail’s stakes were higher, and she bit her lip while scanning his hand. “You win,” she conceded, laying down her cards.
Weylin slapped the
table again, but he kept his mouth shut and his eyes fixed on their newest stripper.
Abigail ignored him and the rest of her audience, staring at Quin as if they were the only two people in the clearing, and her gaze never wavered from his face as she stood and started shimmying her dress up her legs. Quin wasn’t sure if she wanted him to look at her body or stay focused on her eyes, but she definitely wanted his attention. To look away now would undoubtedly offend her, so he kept watching. At first, he stayed focused on her stare, but out of his peripherals, he could see her dark dress creeping up ivory curves and past her bright-orange bikini.
Weylin’s sharp intake of breath signaled the ladies were out. Then Quin lost Abigail’s gaze as she pulled the dress over her head. He took the brief opportunity to scan her body, and discovered her bikini failed miserably at holding it all in.
“Damn,” Weylin breathed, gathering the cards while Abigail took a seat.
To Quin’s relief, the guys showed some restraint and stopped gawking after getting a good look, and even Weylin made an effort to keep his head in the game.
By the time Quin lost his shirt, over half the players had dropped out; Weylin and Kegan were nude and focused on the topless twins between them; and the pressure on Abigail had lessened, easing the pressure on Quin.
“You finally lost your shirt,” she noted, smiling at his chest.
“I don’t need it anymore,” he replied, pointing out the sidetracked players. “The game’s over.”
Weylin turned away from his current conquest and grabbed the cards. “One more hand. Then we’ll call it a night.”
The battle once again came down to Quin and Abigail, but while Weylin was trying to sober up enough to focus on her breasts, Quin folded the best hand he’d had all night. “That’s the game,” he announced, summoning a shot. Then he tossed it back and slapped Weylin’s shoulder. “Maybe next time.”
Weylin shook his head. “I’m disappointed in you, man.”
Quin laughed and stood from his seat, and as he headed for the timber to take a piss, he heard Weylin curse. “Son of a bitch. He had it won.”
“Let me see,” Abigail demanded.
Quin ignored them and stepped into the shadows. He did have it won, but if the only way he’d see Abigail’s body was by stripping her in front of a crowd, he didn’t need to see it. Maybe if she wasn’t a virgin, or if the guys had already seen her naked, but if the rumors were true, she was new to nudity and a complete stranger to sex. Definitely not a good candidate for strip poker.
When Quin returned to the clearing, he found most of the remaining party guests getting ready to crash, and Weylin was pointing at him while talking to Abigail’s cleavage. She laughed off Weylin’s lewd stare then headed for Quin, who tried to focus on anything besides her breasts bouncing in her skimpy top.
“Is this your tent?” she asked, stopping next to him.
He summoned a bottle of water and took a drink. “Yeah.”
She peeked inside, giving him a glimpse of her round ass. Then she straightened and flashed a tempting smile. “Lots of room. Care if I crash with you?”
Quin silently watched her for a long and thoughtful moment. Then he glanced over his shoulder, finding the stares of several people. Returning his attention to Abigail, he moved closer and gestured toward his tent. “If you and I go in there, no matter what happens, come morning, everyone here will think you had sex.”
“So?” she countered, ducking inside. “Let them think whatever they want.”
Quin sighed and closed his eyes, hoping he wasn’t making a mistake. Then he rubbed his face and found the dark sky. “Shit.”
He knew he was getting enthused looks from the other wizards, but he avoided them, unwilling to boast or fuel their speculation. As he entered his tent, he was still telling himself to send her away, but when he found her lying on his bedding in her bikini, the word leave seemed more offensive than the word stay.
“So are you cool with this?” she asked, propping herself up on one arm.
“That depends on what this is,” he answered, tossing aside his bag and shirt, but he kept his shorts on as he lay across from her.
She waited for him to get comfortable then shrugged. “At the moment, it’s just a place to sleep.”
He raised an eyebrow. “There are other places to sleep.”
“Do you think I’d fare better in Weylin’s tent?”
“Not if you’re looking for sleep.”
She laughed and played with a burgundy highlight streaking through her dark hair, and her gaze followed his to make sure he noticed. “Weylin’s crazy.”
“He’s a mess.”
“But you’re not,” she returned, dropping the wavy lock across her chest. “You’re the guy who throws a winning hand to keep a girl’s top on.”
When she said it like that, he sounded like a prude. “Did you want to take it off?”
“Not necessarily, but I’m not sure how to feel about you choosing not to see me topless.”
“I didn’t choose not to see you topless. I chose not to strip you for the entertainment of a bunch of drunken pigs.”
She bit her lip, trying to make her smile more seductive and less cheesy. “Most magicians are more accepting of nudity.”
“I have no problem with nudity,” he corrected. “I do, however, have an issue with putting pressure on girls. It’s one thing for you to decide you want to let people see your body. Every guy here would appreciate it, including me. But I’m not comfortable leaving the decision up to the cards in my hand.”
“So you weren’t saving them for yourself?”
He couldn’t help but glance at the breasts in question. “No.”
“Does that mean you’re completely disinterested?”
He slowly shook his head. “I didn’t say that.”
“Whew…” she breathed. “My confidence was about to jump ship.”
“You have no reason to be insecure.”
“I want to believe you, but you’re still keeping your distance.”
He studied her aura for a few seconds. Then he cast a silencing spell around the tent. “Scoot closer.”
She did, and he swept her hair back while discretely feeling her pulse. “Are you a virgin?”
She blinked. That was the extent of her shock, and her body didn’t blush at all. “Yes.”
Either she was telling the truth or she was a damn good liar, so he pulled his fingers from her neck while scanning her body. “Are you trying to change that?”
She still didn’t blush, and her gaze never wavered, but she did take a moment to swallow. “Thinking about it.”
“Why me?” he pressed.
She gave another shrug. “Do you think I’d fare better with Weylin?”
“Probably. He has more experience, and I’m sure he’d be thrilled to let you settle in for a while. I, on the other hand, have never been with the same girl twice.”
“Why? Were they awful?”
“No. They were great. I just… I can’t be what a girlfriend would need me to be. I can’t commit, so I don’t pretend I can.”
“Have you ever tried?”
“No. And I’m not going to. Not anytime soon, and not with you.”
“Wow. That was blunt.”
“That’s the truth. It’s nothing against you or any other witch I know. That’s just the way it is for me. And that’s why you should rethink what you’re trying to do. There are others who could give you more.”
“I’m not looking for more.”
“Losing your virginity is a big deal, Abby. Sex is a big deal. It gets talked about like it’s as common as breathing, but in reality, it shouldn’t be taken lightly.”
“I know.”
“It comes with a lot of deep and disconcerting emotions.”
“So I hear.”
“So why share those things with me when I’ve done nothing to earn them?”
She scowled. “No one’s earned them. Everyone looks, but that�
�s it. How long am I supposed to sit around waiting for someone to do something besides stare?”
“No one’s ever pursued a relationship with you?”
“Not unless you consider tonsil hockey and groping my tits a relationship.”
“Hmm... Guys are assholes.”
“You’re not.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“Pretty much. All the girls like you, and none of them have anything bad to say about you. If I’m going to do this, I should do it right.”
“Just because I’m not an asshole doesn’t mean this is right.”
“You act like I’m twelve or something.”
“I’m well aware you’re not a little girl,” he disagreed, achingly perceptive to her nearly naked body. “But you’re a virgin, and I’ve never taken that away from anyone.”
“You haven’t?”
“No.”
“Oh… I figured you had.”
“Nope, so I can’t offer you advice or tell you what to expect. If you came here looking for a virginity stealing pro, you came to the wrong tent.”
“I don’t need a professional. I just need a decent guy who’ll do this with me without being a jerk about it. I thought you’d be a good choice, but I’m not going to beg you for it. I have plenty of options if you don’t want it.”
Oh, he wanted it. She was gorgeous, she wanted him to have it, and his hormones screamed louder than his logic, but those were mere waves in a sea of temptation, not the tide that pulled him in. He wanted this because he’d never had a virgin, and the older he got, the more elusive the opportunity became. If he didn’t take it now, he might miss out on the experience altogether.
She smiled and glanced at the air around him. “You do want it. You’re really good at controlling your eyes and body, but your aura tells on you.”
“Controlling my eyes and body has nothing to do with keeping secrets. And you didn’t come into this tent under the assumption I’d turn you away.”
“You’re right.”
“You thought I’d pounce.”
“I kind of did.”
“Is that what you wanted?”
She raised her eyebrows and held out a hand. “I don’t know what I want. I’ve never done it.”
Quin 1 (The Mystic Series) Page 3