“I warned him that if he said anything, I’d eat him,” Thorne teased with a grin.
“So how much is the real price on the house?” Wicked crossed her arms over her chest.
“That doesn’t matter.” Thorne went to reach for her, but she backed up slightly, not breaking the shimmery shield around them.
“Ah, to me it does.” She threw him a hard glare. “I don’t take charity. How much?”
The stubborn ass wouldn’t answer her, and she hesitated at all the deception, feeling her trust of him slipping away. She didn’t know how she could afford eleven hundred dollars a month for her tattoo shop, and she was afraid to hear how much the house rent really was, but dammit, she always paid her way. Maybe she was being overly dramatic, but this was the way she was. She’d be damned if she changed, even for a man who looked like Thorne, a man whose touch set her on fire. Wicked didn’t even want to think of the kiss.
With a nod, the simmering shield disappeared, and she turned away from him and headed up the hill. “I’ll move out of the house, and if I can’t come up with the rest of the shop money in two weeks, I’ll leave.”
“Whoa!” He followed her. “Wait a minute. You don’t have to move out.”
“Yes, I do.” Wicked sighed as she glanced up at the house that was starting to feel like a home. “Unless you tell me how much the rent really is for the house and I can’t come up with the rest, I will be moving out.”
“This makes no sense.” Thorne’s voice turned angry. “I’m trying to help you out. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
She spun so fast she stumbled. “There’s everything wrong with that.” She pointed at him. “Did you not hear what I just said? What I confided in you?”
“Yes, I did. Every single word, but I don’t understand what that has to do with any of this?” Thorne sighed, shaking his head.
“Then you didn’t hear me at all.” Did no one understand her? Okay, that wasn’t fair. She had never told anyone her past. No one had cared to hear it. Thorne had listened; he just didn’t understand. She continued to march up the hill. She was tired and really needed a minute.
“Dammit, Wicked, I just wanted to help you, that’s all.” Thorne stepped in front of her, stopping her progress to the top of the hill.
“You didn’t even know me.” Wicked tilted her head to look up at him. “So why did you want to help me? I’ve had help like that, but there was always a catch. I don’t like owing anyone anything, Thorne. I’m sorry if you don’t understand that, but that’s how I’m made.”
“I told you that the first time I saw you, I knew you were mine.” His voice was low, but she could hear the undercurrent of anger. “I take care of what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours, Thorne.” She slowly shook her head as she stepped around him before casting a shield so he couldn’t stop her again. She realized her earlier thoughts were wrong. She could trust no one, not even a sexy Shifter.
Chapter 8
As soon as Wicked walked inside her small house and locked her door, she dropped the protection shield. Before she could make her way into her bedroom, her front door opened. Swinging around, she frowned to see Thorne walk inside and close it behind him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Wicked frowned.
“Finishing our conversation,” Thorne replied as he put keys in his front pocket, which answered the question of how he had opened the door. It was technically his house.
“Listen, thanks for dinner.” There she went again, not wanting to be rude. She really wasn’t living up to her name. “But I think you need to leave now.”
“What are you afraid of? Or should I say who are you afraid of?” Thorne persisted.
“And again, you were not listening since I told you my fear.” Wicked was so done with this conversation.
“You put some kind of shield around us which indicated you were afraid someone might hear what you had to say.” Thorne had walked deeper into the house, closer to her.
“I don’t need anyone hearing my business,” she countered. “And people in this town are nosy.”
“True, but that’s not it, and you know it. I know it. And I’m not leaving until I know what it is.” Thorne leaned against the hallway wall crossing his arms over his massive chest. “Bruce said it has something to do with your friend Kira, who stayed here for a few days.”
“Bruce is a dumbass.” Wicked snorted, her mind swirling with ways to torture her familiar. She had planned to tell him more and had been getting to that, but then the talk about the rent had thrown her. It was best this way. She wasn’t meant to have a relationship, especially with someone as hot as Thorne McAllister, who was way out of her league. “You can stand there all night for all I care. I mean, it is your house, but I’m going to bed. I have an early appointment and need my rest.” She totally wanted to ignore the way his eyes flared at the mention of going to bed, but dammit, she couldn’t, and the kiss they had shared slammed back into her mind.
When he didn’t say a word but continued to stand still as a statue staring at her, she shrugged and headed to her bedroom. “Lock up when you get bored and leave,” she said with sarcastic snark. Even though her tone and actions indicated she didn’t care, she did care, more than she wanted to admit even to herself.
Wicked was surprised when she was grabbed and pushed up against the wall. It wasn’t aggressive, but it did scare her because she wasn’t expecting it. A scream slipped past her lips. She even struggled against him.
“Wicked, stop!” Thorne demanded, trying to keep her from smacking him. “Stop before you hurt yourself.”
“I’m going to hurt you, not myself,” Wicked hissed, then saw an opening. The smack against his cheek echoed in the small hallway. They both stilled, both looking shocked. “Oh!”
A slow grin tipped the left side of his mouth. “You little wildcat.”
She was so close to apologizing until she saw his grin. She went to do it again, but this time, he caught her hand.
“Once is quite enough, Wicked,” he warned, but the grin stayed in place. “You smack me again, I’ll spank your ass.”
“You wouldn’t!” Her eyes opened wide in shock.
“Oh, I would.” Thorne released her hand as if daring her to test him.
She decided it was a test she didn’t want to take. She was never a good test taker anyway. With a sigh, she dropped her hands to her sides and leaned against the wall. He had caged her in, one arm on the wall above her head, his body close while the other arm hung freely at his side.
“What do you want from me, Thorne?” She lifted her eyes to meet his. He was so close. His scent and presence filled her, and she craved him like nothing else, even chocolate, and that was saying something.
“Everything.” His low reply reached her ears, and she shook her head.
“You can’t have everything.” She had to stop herself from reaching out and touching him. Her fingers tingled at the thought. She was so screwed it wasn’t even funny. She tried to fool herself into thinking she didn’t want him, when in fact, she did with a fierceness that frightened her.
“I’m a patient man.” He slowly lifted his hand, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His knuckle ran down her cheek, chin, and finally throat before dropping away. “I’ve waited this long to get to this point.”
“And what point is that?” she whispered, ’cause she really freaking wanted to know. Damn him.
He remained silent as he stared at her. Without touching her, Thorne leaned closer and tilted his head, but his eyes never wavered from hers. As soon as their lips touched, her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her lids closed. How in the hell could she fight this man when all she wanted was his lips on hers?
Before she realized it, her arms were wrapped around his neck, of her own accord, and he was smashing her into his body.
Having no clue how long the kiss lasted, all she knew was her eyes split open slightly to see a rainbow of color. Her magic was out of control. She neede
d to focus, get herself together. When Thorne cupped her ass, lifting her up his body, the thought of control drifted completely out of her mind. Hopefully she wouldn’t hurt anyone because there would be no control tonight.
He pulled away from her slightly. “I want you.” His voice was hard with desire. “But if you aren’t ready, I will walk away right now.”
Wicked sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. It was far too late for her to tell him to walk away. She wanted this more than she wanted anything. Her bitching about rent and everything was just a front. She was trying to guard her heart, but that was already gone because her heart and soul where this man was concerned was toast and had been that way for a long time now.
“I don’t want you to leave.” Her voice was soft, yet strong with conviction. Yet she screamed inside wondering what the hell she was saying. Was she crazy? Or was she ready to throw her fear to the wind and take what she really wanted for once?
He growled at her words as he walked into her bedroom and kicked the door closed. His mouth took hers once again. Wicked knew this could be a huge mistake, but at that moment all she cared about was the feeling of being wanted.
He slid her down his body and oh, how she loved the feel of his hardness against her skin. His hands worked at her shirt, and before she knew what was happening, she stood before him totally naked. He scanned her body, and she had no problem standing before him. She could read him and knew he liked what he saw, and that’s all she needed to know. Now she was ready to see him. Wicked helped him undress. She could have easily used her magic to make his clothes disappear, but didn’t. It was much, much better this way. Each body part exposed made her want him more. It had been so long for her, and she knew with Thorne it would be like no other.
Picking her up, Thorne walked to the bed and laid her down. “Fast or slow.” He moaned into her ear as she nipped his neck.
“Both,” she whispered against his skin.
It didn’t take long for either of them to be ready. Hell, she was ready when they were in the diner’s parking lot. With gentleness, he entered her. It was as if he knew it had been long for her. Slowly, to the point where she wanted to scream, they became one. She didn’t realize she held her breath until he was fully inside her when she moaned at the feel of him so deep.
He moved slowly, resting his elbows at the side of her head, keeping his weight off her. Wrapping her legs around his waist, Wicked closed her eyes and just felt, loving everything about this moment. It seemed to go on forever, and that was totally fine with her. He kissed her lips, face, neck, and breasts as his tempo stayed just right. She began to match his pace; she was not a lazy lover.
“Open your eyes and hold on, Wicked.” His voice had her opening her eyes slowly. “I’m about to show you exactly who you belong to.”
She didn’t argue, didn’t say a word other than gasp as his hips moved faster, his eyes more intense as he rose off his elbows onto his hands. They became one in a way that Wicked had never known. She was a part of him, and he was a part of her. It was amazing. It was absolutely... wicked, and no matter what happened after this night, she would never forget it, and she’d hold it close to her heart always.
Chapter 9
Wicked sat working on her early morning tattoo with a disappointed frown. Last night had been a mixture of emotions, ending with mind-blowing sex. Never had she been with a man who, well, let’s just say six freaking orgasms... unfreaking heard of. She had fallen asleep in his arms; they hadn’t really talked. Sex, short rest, more sex, sex again, a little food, then sex in the kitchen and sex in the hallway going back to the bedroom.
She was sore as hell and had to keep adjusting her sitting position, but it was a good sore. Her heart was a little sore too. She’d woken to an empty bed. With no sign he was ever there, without that sweet soreness between her legs, she would have wondered if it were a dream.
The guy getting tattooed kept whining and having to take breaks, which irritated her more than usual. He acted all big and bad when they had discussed what he’d wanted, being picky, which was fine. It was his body and tattoos were permanent, but he was an asshole about it, and now he was crying like a little pussy. All he was getting was a rose tattoo with his girlfriend’s name in script underneath it. What should have been about an hour or so tattoo was running into three hours.
“I need to piss,” he said crudely and moved, which made the line she was working on wonky. Using her magic, she erased the mistake, then put Lenny down with a sigh.
“Well, he’s a treat.” Bruce stretched as he sunned in the window. “He’s more of a pussy than I am, and that’s saying something.”
Wicked didn’t really answer, just made a noise in the back of her throat. Her eyes went to the large window as a motorcycle went past. Then she cursed herself for even looking and then for being disappointed it wasn’t Thorne.
“So, I got home late,” Bruce said between licking his paw, giving her a sideways glance.
Wicked rolled her eyes at him. “And?”
“Since when did you start snoring like a man?” Bruce went back to focusing on his paw.
“Since when did you mind your own damn business?” Wicked narrowed her eyes at Bruce.
“Ah, never.” Bruce purred sarcastically.
“Thorne slipped out in the early morning, did he?” Bruce put his paw down, looking straight at her. “He’s really into you, Wicked.”
Wicked almost choked at his words since Thorne had in fact really been into her last night. That was a fact. “You know, you’re lucky you’re alive today.” Wicked changed the subject real quick. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing talking to Thorne about me?”
“Hey, he asked and I answered. You do realize he could eat me?” Bruce glanced toward the bathroom. “You think pussy boy is okay in there?”
Wicked sighed and started to stand up when the door opened and out walked the man who looked really pale. “Are you okay?”
He nodded, then glanced at her machine. “How much longer do you think?”
“We can do this in two sessions?” Wicked replied. He’d already paid her in full, so she didn’t care if they stopped now and he came back.
“No.” He shook his head. “I want to finish it. It’s for her birthday, and I want to give it to her tonight.”
Wicked and Bruce glanced at each other. She hoped to the Goddess he got her something else, but maybe “Brittany” would be happy with this. Bruce shook his furry head as if reading her mind.
“I don’t have much more to do, so you should be good.” Wicked waited until he sat back down. She was doing his arm, so he was able to sit up. “If you need a break before then, just let me know.”
The man nodded, put his earplugs in as he hit something on his phone, and then closed his eyes. The country music he was playing was so loud both Wicked and Bruce could hear it. To see a cat roll its eyes in disgust was a sight to see.
“Please let me kill him,” Bruce said, sounding in true pain. “Or at least use our damn magic and blow his phone up.”
“No, I’m mad at you,” Wicked said as she continued to work. “If you would have minded your own business and stayed out of mine, then I would have considered it.”
“You’re evil,” Bruce hissed. “Just evil.”
“No, I’m Wicked and don’t you forget it.” She glared at him, then went back to work. Bruce remained quiet after that, which was a good thing. She was still angry with him for talking to Thorne about her. Wasn’t there anyone she could trust? Obviously not.
Her mind wandered as it often did when she was tattooing. Sometimes that was good, sometimes it was bad. Today it was bad because all she could think about was last night with Thorne and why he’d left without a word. He surely seemed to enjoy their sexcapades as much as she had, but her confidence in that faltered more and more as time went by. Was she too much? Had she been not enough for him? And she swore if she heard any more country music, she was going to scream. It wasn’t tha
t she hated it, but she wasn’t in the mood for it. She needed some headbanging, guitar-ripping, drum-pounding, screaming metalhead music. Using her magic, she turned on her stereo loud enough to drown out anything else.
“If I could give you a thumbs-up, I would,” Bruce called out over the music.
Wicked focused on finishing up and finally after another half an hour, she was finished. She wiped it clean and admired her work. Yeah, this was one of the few constants in her life that she was confident in. She was one hell of a tattoo artist.
Prepping the area and giving the man instructions, Wicked sent the guy on his way and suddenly felt exhausted, both mentally and physically. Turning down the music slightly, she glanced over at Bruce, who lay basking in the sun on his back spread-eagle.
“Bruce, I don’t want you talking to Thorne about me anymore,” Wicked informed him, her voice stern. “I’m supposed to be able to trust my familiar to—”
“Do what’s best for you,” Bruce finished for her, but only turned his head to look at her. “And that’s exactly what I did. Thorne is good for you.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, not you,” Wicked hissed. “Now I have to come up with more money for rent, or I’m out of a place. I never would have signed the lease if—”
“Will you just stop.” Bruce rolled over this time. “Accept help when it’s offered, Wicked. Not everyone is like others in your past. Some people actually help others, not wanting anything in return. Ease the fuck up. Have I ever asked for anything in return?”
“Yes, you have.” Wicked’s voice rose. “And don’t tell me to ease up, asshole. I’ll turn you into a hairless cat if you don’t watch yourself and stop interrupting me.”
“No, you won’t.” Bruce snorted, then hissed at her. “And you know I’m right. You’re just too stubborn to admit it. Stop being so hard on yourself and enjoy life. Screw Thorne’s brains out. Oh, wait... you already did that.”
“You’re disgusting!” Wicked’s fingers itched to do just what she threatened, but her door opened before she could lift her hand. “Kira!”
Wicked *itch: Magic and Mayhem Universe Page 5