by Erin Hayes
Roman thundered to his feet. Pain shot through him, but he tried not to wince. “Don’t tell me how I feel, April.”
“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just tell yourself,” she said. “Do you really think this is helping anything? What about making yourself miserable is doing anybody any good?” Gently, she brushed her brother’s arm with her hand. “Do you think Adam would want this? Do you think he’d want you to live the rest of your life in pain, being less than you can be?”
“Don’t you dare,” he said, blinking back moisture. “Adam would want me to avenge him! That’s what he would want!”
“At what cost?” she asked. Her voice was almost steady, but he heard the tremble in the start of it. “You’re going to give your entire life for this? Because that’s what almost happened today.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“Don’t be stupid,” she said. “You let pride and all that garbage get in the way of the things that matter.” She took a deep breath. “None of us know how this Godforsaken feud started, but I’d bet dollars to dandelions that it had to do with two men who wouldn’t bend even an inch. And look at all the chaos it’s brought. Look at all the lives it’s ruined. Adam wasn’t the first, but he could be the last. If we just let this all go. And then you’d get to live the life you wanted, Roman. Wouldn’t that be nice? Wouldn’t that be the best way to honor our brother?”
“You want me to let it go?” His face twisted even more than it already was. “You want me to let go of our brother’s death? You want me to crawl over there to the Fairweathers and tell them that all is forgiven? You want me to beg them to stop this? Tell them that we were wrong? That we’re scared little bitches? That we don't value our dead? Our family? Because that’s what they would think, April! That’s what everyone in three counties would think!”
April sighed. “You’re missing the point,” she said. “You’re just missing the damn point.”
“You’re the one missing the point,” he said, his face getting hotter by the moment. “But I don’t know why I expected anything else. You’ve always been soft. It was cute once upon a time, but we’re in war now. And this nonsense has to stop.”
He stepped closer, his hands shaking at his side from all the hurt and anger. “You think there’s a way out of this that doesn’t involve blood? That makes you the idiot, April. Not me. If you think there’s any way in this world or the next that Julia and I could end up as anything other than the worst of enemies, then that makes you the biggest fool on the planet.” His hands squeezed into fists, trying to absorb the tension. Those words hurt him more than they hurt his sister. “And even if it didn’t, she’s marrying someone else.”
April’s arms went slack at her sides, her usual ‘tell’ of exasperation. “Because she has to, Roman. Come on! You know this.”
“You know better than that, April. You saw that girl lose her mind. You watched what she did to protect herself. No one can force Julia Fairweather to do anything. If she’s marrying that man, it’s because part of her wants to. And we both know what that means for me.”
April put her hand on Roman’s arm again. “What is meant to happen will always happen, Roman. We all have to believe that. Especially now.”
He yanked his arm away. “Don’t.” He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. “Don’t quote Mom to me. If that was true, she’d still be here. And so would Adam. There is no meant to be. There’s only what is and what we make. And, whether you like it or not, what I’m going to make is going to set those sons of bitches on fire.”
Chapter Thirteen
Julia laid her head against the pillow. Even though it was late, she was anything but tired. Her mind had been racing, pushing through all the craziness that had happened today.
Watching Paris and Roman go at it was like watching her heart be pulled apart right before her eyes.
But wasn’t that what all of this felt like anyway?
Everything that had happened since she came back to this Godforsaken city seemed bent on convincing her to leave again.
Still, she knew she couldn’t. Even if she wanted to, even if every fiber of her being pulled her back to Iowa, she couldn’t now. She couldn’t forget about Roman, not after giving in to him again. And she couldn’t up and leave Paris. He was a good man, and her grandfather was right when he told her she had a duty to her coven.
Even if that was true, though—even if she was destined to be shackled to this Louisiana warlock for the rest of her life—that didn’t mean she could just stand by and watch Roman get himself killed.
And that was exactly what was going to happen if he kept on with this nonsense.
Adam had died. So yes, she understood why he felt as if he needed to do something—even something dark and drastic and wrong. But Paris had almost put him in the ground today, and she doubted she would be able to stop him from doing it should the opportunity arise again.
She had to get through to him somehow. She had to see him, talk to him. But right now, going anywhere near a Blackwood witch—especially Roman—would be as foolish as anything Roman had done.
No. She had to reach him a different way. The way they used to when they were kids and sneaking out of the house at night wasn’t an option.
That was why she ingested the sea kelp. Why she was laying here now, eyes closed but still awake, trying to fall into that magical space between sleeping and consciousness.
After blowing out a small, slow breath, she mumbled the familiar incantation. Just saying the words made her body tingle all over with excitement and anxiety.
It wasn’t as though astral projection were all that uncommon. Even humans had done it before. But for her kind of witch, it was something different. Something that became somehow more real, scarier, thrilling.
When she was certain the spell had taken hold—when she felt the air around her shift and her body tilt upright—she opened her eyes.
And there he was. Standing in his room, wearing boxers and nothing else.
He blinked at her, those dark eyes accessing things. “Your timing is terrible,” he muttered. “You never really did get the hang of that spell.”
She couldn’t help but smile. He was right. She’d probably been standing there with her eyes closed for a few minutes already, and he watched her, waiting to see when she would realize she wasn’t home anymore.
Well, not really. Her body was still there, but her being was here. Where it was meant to be—with Roman.
“It’s been awhile since we’ve done this,” he continued. “I assumed you’d used the last of the sea kelp.”
“Not yet,” she said, trying to find strength in her voice. To say she felt outside of herself would be an understatement, and it always took a moment for her to really find her voice.
“I tried to contact you right after you moved, you know,” he said, standing as still as a statue. “Adam had some extra kelp hidden in his room. I must have tried every night for two months before I finally gave up.”
“I know,” she said quietly, her face reddening. She knew Roman would try to get in touch with her. That was why she took the steps necessary to make sure he was unable to do that. “It’s just, back then, I wasn’t really—”
“Accepting calls,” he cut in. “Even from me. I get it.” He looked off to the side and then back at her. “Lucky for you, I am. At least for the night.”
As his dark gaze drank her in, the words froze in her throat.
Roman closed the distance between them, his body glistening in the candlelight flickering about his room. “So?” he whispered huskily, looking down into her eyes, “what can I do for you?”
Her body warmed, starting in her stomach and spreading down over and between her thighs. She couldn’t think straight when he was this close, especially with her subconscious trying to work with the spell to keep the connection that had her there.
She stepped back, trying to shake the haze of arousal that was winding around her like a heavy fog.
&
nbsp; “We need to talk,” she said, her voice wavering.
“Is that what we need?” He looked her up and down, something dangerously exciting flickering in his eyes. “You should leave. This was a mistake. I never should have let you in.”
“W-what?”
“You heard me,” Roman said. His tone was almost aggressive, but he took her wrists gently into his hands, facing her palms up and staring into them as if all the answers in the world might be found in the lifeline that ran through her skin. “We don’t have anything to say to each other,” he whispered. “We can’t.”
“Really?” she asked, her breath catching in her chest. “That’s strange, because I have a lot to say to you.”
“No you don’t, Julia.” His thumbs pressed against the soft spots of her wrists, and her pulse thudded softly. “You’re a Fairweather. I’m a Blackwood.”
“You’re you, and I’m me. Why is that news?” she asked. “And, in case you’ve forgotten, we had these last names when we started things before.”
“And look at how that turned out.” Roman dropped her hands and stepped back. “You tried to kill yourself, and I…I…”
“You what?” Julia asked, looking up at him.
“I wasn’t in a good place.”
“And what about now? Are you in a good place now?”
“Now doesn’t matter.” He scoffed. “Adam is dead, you’re getting married to another man, and we’re at war with each other’s families for the thousandth time in our lifetimes. None of it matters.”
“No we are not. You and I are not at war,” she said.
Instinctively, her hand came up to his arm. It was meant to comfort him, but all it did was remind her how small she was compared to him, and how their attraction seemed to change the energy in the air between them every time they touched. It stole her breath. It made her body ache. It made her want to forget everything and just kiss him and get lost in that kiss until everything else around them disappeared.
But they’d spent years doing that, and the thing is, nothing ever really disappeared. It just went on around them while they hid from the truth. While they escaped in any way they knew how.
Roman closed his eyes and sighed with relief, as though that touch was oxygen and he had been holding his breath for as long as he could remember.
“I’m so sorry about everything that happened,” Julia said. “If I could go back in time, if I could have fixed it…” She blinked moisture from her eyes. “Adam was—”
“He loved you, too,” Roman answered, his eyes still closed.
Julia’s hand moved down Roman’s arm and rested in his palm.
Roman opened his eyes and met her gaze. “You know I can’t let this go, right?”
“I wasn’t going to ask you to.”
“Weren’t you?” he countered. “Isn’t that why you came here tonight?”
“No,” she said, looking him over. “I came to make sure you were okay.” She swallowed hard. “Are you?”
“How could I be?” he asked, without breaking eye contact. “Are you?”
Her mouth twisted with the churning in her gut. “No. I don’t think I am.”
“I haven’t dreamed,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I haven’t dreamed since you left me. I think I was just waiting for you, waiting for you to come back to me.”
“It wasn’t your fault. You know that, don’t you?” She couldn’t keep the tears from spilling onto her cheeks now. “I wanted to stay here. I wanted to stay with you. All I’ve ever wanted—”
He pulled her into his body, pressing her tear-soaked face against his chest and holding her there. “I know, baby. Don’t cry.”
“Can’t we just be us?” She hiccupped against him and tried to catch her breath. “Just for one night, can’t we be us?”
“We can try.”
He paused a moment, as if trying to read her expression and figure out if she really wanted this.
She did. More than anything.
Roman pushed against her and his lips dove to meet hers and her body rose as they made contact. His hands went to her face, and hers wrapped around his neck as a small moan passed from her mouth into his.
Her pulse raced, her skin heated, and her legs tensed as her lips searched his, finding everything she’d been missing for so long. His hands explored her body as though he’d already conquered every inch of her, as if he knew this terrain as well as he knew himself, and Julia knew that was true.
His hands tore down her blouse, ripping at the fabric until it split in half. Her breasts, aching for his touch, heaved with every needy breath. She needed him instantly. She needed him five minutes ago. She needed him a lifetime ago, every moment she was gone, every moment she stayed away. When she was with him, she didn’t know why she’d ever even tried. Why had she resisted this? This was inevitable. They were inevitable.
But natural disasters were inevitable, too. That was why she had stayed away. Right now, though, those fears could wait.
His hardening cock nudged against the inside of her thigh, and he shifted his weight so that his thick shaft rubbed underneath her nightdress. So close to where she wanted him to be. Her nipples hardened and the ache between her legs gave way to moisture, to desire that she could not walk away from until she was satiated.
She whimpered against his lips, a silent plea for him to give himself to her. She’d been ready for this since the night she came back into town, and a panic started in her chest at the idea he would pull away again. She couldn’t handle the thought of that.
Roman laid her down on the bed, pulled off his boxers, and climbed between her legs. He swept a loose hair from her face and stared down into her eyes.
“You’re trembling,” he murmured, smirking a little. “Are you nervous?”
She pouted, but didn’t respond.
He tilted his head to the side, trailing a finger down her collarbone and then over to her nipple. “Well, you should be.”
His lips traveled down her neck, moved to her chest, and encircled her pert nipple, the flick of his tongue sending sparks through her body. She pressed her teeth into her lip to hold back a moan.
Some part of her was already ready to beg him to fuck her. But that would almost ensure he would wait longer. He loved to make her suffer with need—something she’d learned as early as their first night together, and something he’d reinforced with her over the years.
That had always been part of who he was, in and out of the bedroom. Roman lived to be needed. Once, it had been enough for Julia to need him. But she’d left. Which meant all he had left was his family.
Now she was back—and what would that mean, exactly? That she would break his heart, and her own, once again?
Her muscles tensed, her pulse sped even more, and the torrent of moisture forming between her legs threatened to overflow as Roman’s fingers found their way under her panties.
He teased her with his index and ring finger tracing her lower lips until finally she couldn’t hold back anymore and another begging whimper escaped. Roman grinned, then slipped his finger between her folds and nudged at her entrance until her hips swerved and her moans became more pleading.
As Roman’s fingers entered her completely, her cheeks burned all the way to her ears, and when he kissed her again, she wrapped her arms around his neck and sank her fingernails into his back. He chuckled, working inside of her until her muscles began to tense. Her lips moved from his mouth to his jaw and then up to his ear, and she sank her teeth into his earlobe until he gave her a warning growl.
He was hot and tasted of salt. She had missed that. His lips moved back up her neck and, removing his fingers from her, he rested them on her ass and hoisted her up.
She felt the rush of movement and then a slam he drove her into the wall of his room.
“God, I want you, Julia,” he muttered against her as he started to push his thick shaft into her, stretching her until she whimpered again, this time for a feeling somewhere between pain and p
leasure. “I need you.”
And that was where her heart broke as he rocked his body into hers. He needed her. Her mind could hardly process that as he brought her to the brink of orgasm and held her there, making her feel physically desperate and spiritually whole all at the same time.
She clenched around him, but it didn’t slow his momentum as he thrust into her hard and fast. His tenderness dissipated, and the love making turned into him fucking away all of his pent up rage, all his hostility and frustration; he was letting go of it now, unloading it on her.
With her orgasm, her legs went weak, but despite the rapid sap of energy, she tied them around his back and rode his thrusts as though her body had been made for his and his alone, using every last bit of energy she had just to stay until he finished.
When he was done, she slackened in his embrace.
“I…I…” she started breathlessly.
He laid her on the bed and climbed on beside her so he could look down at her, his face just inches from hers. “So do I.”
“I can’t stay, Roman,” she said, her chest aching with the truth of it. She couldn’t stay tonight, and she couldn’t stay with him. Not forever.
He pressed his lips together. “I know.”
“We can’t—” she started, but the magic faded, pulling her away.
She gasped, her eyes flying open, shocking her back into her body.
We can’t keep doing this. That was what she was going to say. And he was going to say, “But we will, Julia. We always will.” And then she was going to feel better.
She pulled her knees up to her chest in her bed.
Was he still there, in his dreams, or had he awoken, too? Did he know what she was going to say?
Did it even matter?
She flopped down on her pillow again and pulled her comforter up to her ears. Something clattered to the floor, and she inched closer to the edge of the bed to look down.
On the floor was a vial filled with purple liquid and a small piece of paper attached.
She eased half over the side of the bed and lifted it, then righted herself on the bed to inspect the package.