“Oh my…” She tried to form the words, but they wouldn’t come. “Wow.”
“Oh my wow to ya too, love,” Rory whispered. She felt the heat of his arousal against her stomach. He had not joined her in release. “That was a beautiful thing to behold.”
“We should, ah, should…?” Jennifer gave a small laugh. “What?”
“Turn around, rinse off,” he said.
She nodded, turning to wash the remainder of the soap from her skin. She pushed her wet hair over her shoulders only to feel him start to lather it for her. When he finished, he said, “Turn.” She did, rinsing her hair. They repeated the processing with the conditioner.
Like a gentleman, he helped her step out of the tub before rinsing himself and following her. Jennifer dried with a towel. Rory didn’t bother to get his own as he grabbed one end of her towel and pulled her toward the bed.
Rory urged her onto the mattress, throwing the towel aside as he crawled over with damp skin. The eagerness of his movements gave away the desperation of his desires. He had not met with his release in the shower.
The soft comforter padded the length of her body as a naked thigh pressed between her legs. He brought his mouth to hers, resuming where they’d left off in the shower. The sounds of his moans caused her to shiver. Each brush of his body to hers left trails of magick in its wake.
Jennifer opened her legs, needing to feel him.
“Don’t worry, I have protection,” he whispered seconds before a glow came from between them. She glanced between their bodies to see from where the light came.
Jennifer couldn’t help her laugh. “A glowing penis. I can definitely say that’s a first.”
Rory tried to smile, but the look appeared pained as he maneuvered his hips between her thighs and pushed forward. She waited in anticipation, wondering if that part of him would tingle like the rest when it touched her. Jennifer gasped as a pulse of energy vibrated as he entered her. It coursed through her like electric fire, sizzling her from her head to her toes in overwhelming passion.
Even without the magickal bonus, Rory knew how to please her, working his hips, lifting and thrusting, kissing and moaning. She felt as if she were the center of his world.
Jennifer made a soft noise as the tension built toward another release. Her heart hammered violently. She trembled as the climax ripped through her. Rory stiffened above her as he too found release.
Jennifer tried to catch her breath. Her arms dropped over her head on the comforter. “Oh my. Wow.”
Rory rolled to lie next to her on the bed. He pulled her by the hip to move her closer to him. He gazed into her eyes for a long time. When their breathing finally slowed, he whispered, “I don’t know how to say this without sounding cheesy or scaring ya away, but…”
“But?” She prompted, eagerly awaiting for him to finish the thought.
“I have been around a long time. Hundreds of years,” he said.
“Ah…?” Jennifer considered that. It’s not what she had expected him to say, but it was knowledge she should probably have. “So, you’re like immortal?”
“Long life span,” he corrected. “Warlocks can be killed.”
“You mentioned that before. What exactly does that mean, you’re all warlocks?” Jennifer was too relaxed to be frightened by long life spans, and it was a little late to freak out about magick at this point.
“My siblings and cousins and I were born magicks,” he said. “Others marry into the family, and over time, the natural-born warlocks’ life spans and powers transfer to our spouses in different ways. My ma, for example, is very adept at potions and tapping into the magick for herself. She’s been doing it so long she doesn’t need my father around to fuel her.”
“Wait, are you saying since we…?” Excited, Jennifer sat up from the bed and lifted her hand. She concentrated on her fingers, trying to make them glow.
“What are ya doing?” he asked.
When it didn’t work, she frowned. “Well, that kind of sucks. I thought you were telling me that since we had sex, I would be able to do something cool and warlocky.”
“Hey!” He tugged her arm to force her back down next to him. He rested on his back as she leaned next to him on her side. “Sex with me is the something cool.”
She laughed and teased, “I mean, it’s all right, but it’s no making finger fire.”
He chuckled. “Hold out your hand.”
Jennifer remained on her side and instantly lifted her hand into the air above him. He formed a light ball in his palm and bounced it a few times before sliding it to her hand. She gasped as she felt it against her palm, churning like a living thing. She held it close to her face to look into the depths.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
The light slowly began to fade, dying in her palm. “Where does it go?”
“Back into the universe,” he said. “Magick is just energy. It must come from somewhere, and it must go somewhere.”
“Where does it come from?” She wondered if she could learn to tap into it.
“That’s a complicated question, but the short answer is to create magick I have to borrow the energy from something—like plant life. That’s why my family moved here. Nature allows us to use just a little from each plant as fuel so that we don’t kill anything.
“So what I felt was plant life?”
“What ya felt was sexual energy.” He grinned.
Jennifer laughed. “I’m being serious. Was that a plant I was holding?”
“I’m serious too. Sexual energy can fuel magick, but like a climax, it burns hot and doesn’t last as long as nature.”
“I was holding sex?” She wagged her brows at him.
He took her hand and brought her fingers to his lips. He kissed the tips before leading her hand down his stomach toward his cock. “Now ya are holding my sex.”
Jennifer laughed even as she felt him stirring with interest. She pulled her hand away and adjusted on the covers into a more comfortable position. Normally women joked that men needed a moment to recover between bouts, but after two intense orgasms, Jennifer was the one who needed a breather.
“I was trying to explain something,” he said, lazily touching her chest and tracing a nipple. “When I said I had a long life, I meant I have been around long enough to know what I feel.”
Her breath caught slightly as she waited for him to continue.
“I know humans aren’t always as…” He seemed to struggle to find the right words.
“You’re not going to insult me. Just say it,” she urged.
“Humans aren’t always as forthcoming—or maybe the right word is understanding—when it comes to how they feel. I don’t want to scare ya away, but when I first met ya, then when we came together, even right now just laying here with ya, I feel a connection between us. It’s unlike anything I have ever experienced in my life, Jennifer. I know this is where I need to be.”
Rory spoke of his emotions with such conviction and certainty. He might joke around, but he didn’t play games with people.
“I feel connected to you, too,” she answered, putting her hand over his as he cupped her breast. She wondered if he could feel her heart beating beneath his palm. Her lids felt heavy as she tried to keep her eyes open. “I want to discuss this further, but after a double shift, poisoned cheese, fighting my inner demon in an effort not to kill you, being attacked by gremians, learning magic is real, and two really powerful orgasms, I don’t think I can hold much more conversation.”
“Of course, love, ya should rest.” He stared at her as if he had no intention of closing his eyes. “I promise, no harm will come to ya within these walls.”
“Could you get the lights?” she felt her eyes drifting closed.
The bed shifted slightly, and when she again looked at him, the lights were off, and Rory had lit the fireplace. He hadn’t moved from her side.
“Melt the blankets on top of me
?” she mumbled, unsure if she made sense or not.
Rory chuckled. The bed again moved, and she felt him pulling the blanket from under her before he tucked her in manually.
“Doing that the human way was much less impressive than when you melted off my clothes,” she mumbled, unable to look at him again.
Rory stroked her hair and kissed her cheek. “I’ll show ya more magick in the morning. For now, ya rest...”
If he said more, she wasn’t aware of it as she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Thirteen
Rory dozed but didn’t fall into a deep sleep. Every time Jennifer moved or sighed, he felt compelled to check on her. It was his duty to protect her—not just because she was a woman and he a warlock, but because he was her warlock.
It wasn’t duty that kept his mind awake and night crept through the window. He was afraid if he drifted into the land of dreams, he would return only to find Jennifer was just that—a dream.
When they touched, everything he wanted became apparent, as if her embrace had the power to pull him from a sleepwalking existence that he hadn’t realized he was in. She was brightness and light and hope. She was his joy.
She was…his?
He prayed to any deity that would listen that she could be his, that this wasn’t a fleeting moment in time but the first of many nights together. He hardly felt worthy of her, but that wouldn’t keep him from wishing.
Rory had never wanted anything more in his life, and it had been a very long existence. At times he just floated through life. The span of a year rarely had meaning anymore. What was a month, a week, a day in comparison to forever? Decades had melted together, turning into centuries.
He didn’t want this moment to slip away.
Rory placed his hand on Jennifer’s side to feel her as his eyes refused to remain open. He detected the gentle rise and fall of her breath in a hypnotic rhythm.
It felt like only a second had passed, but his hand was flat on the sheet. He rubbed over the mattress as he pushed up to look for her. Jennifer was gone. Panic unfurled inside him.
“Jenn?” He pushed out of bed and hurried to the bathroom. “Jennifer?”
She wasn’t there, but her work shirt was folded and draped over the side of the tub.
Rory put on his kilt and grabbed a fresh t-shirt before hurrying to go downstairs barefoot. There was any number of scenarios that could explain her absence, and none of them great—magickally possessed to retrieve an ancient blade to stab him with, kidnapped by his phoenix niece and forced to play princess tea party, tricked into accepting Raibeart’s marriage proposal, sneaking out from a one-night stand.
Rory rushed down the stairs, unsure where he was going, but following his impulses as he turned toward the dining room. It was worse than anything he imagined.
His mother cornered Jennifer.
“Honestly, I’m torn. I need coffee, but I don’t trust anything you hand me to consume,” Jennifer was saying as he walked into the room. “Who knows what kind of acid trip awaits me in that brew?”
Both women turned to him at his entrance. Cait was dressed like a 1950s housewife ready to receive company. His ma held out an espresso mug toward Jennifer, who stared back at it with a dubious expression on her face.
Jennifer wore one of his black t-shirts and a pair of his plaid pajama pants rolled up at the ankles to turn them into capris. Her dark hair was a little messy from drying as she’d slept on it. Most women he’d known would feel at a disadvantage next to his very put-together mother, but Jennifer didn’t appear to have such hang-ups.
“Rory, tell your lady friend that I am not trying to poison her,” Cait said.
“Rory, tell your mother that I don’t want to go on her magic carpet ride,” Jennifer mimicked Cait’s tone.
“Rory, tell your lady friend that I am not a murderess.” Cait lifted the mug as if it were an affront to her honor that Jennifer would not take her at her word. “Or a drug dealer.”
“Rory, tell your mother I want to see her drink it.” Jennifer crossed her arms over her chest.
“I had my morning coffee,” Cait stated, lowering the cup. “Another espresso, and I’ll be jittery all day.”
The last place Rory wanted to be was in the middle of an argument between his ma and his new girlfriend.
“How about I make ya a coffee?” Rory offered Jennifer.
Jennifer studied him for a moment and then looked pointedly at Cait. “Why don’t you give it to your son to drink, then?”
Cait frowned.
“Sure, ma, I’ll drink—” Rory began.
“I will not be thusly accused,” Cait announced, taking the mug with her as she retreated to the kitchen in self-righteous anger.
“Oh my god,” Jennifer said, pointing after Cait as if the act of her leaving vindicated Jennifer in her suspicions. “She was trying to poison me again.”
“Not poison,” Rory said.
“You saw…”
“Probably just a little potion,” Rory explained.
“Just a little potion? Like last night when I hallucinated that I was puking up clumps of smelly mud and leaking black fluid out of every orifice?” Jennifer shook her head. “I’m trying very hard to be understanding, Rory, because this magick thing is new to me, and I realize a lot is happening that I don’t understand, but I cannot fathom why expelling mud is good for me.”
“Who’s expelling mud?” Iain came into the dining room on his way toward the kitchen.
“What are ya doing here?” Rory asked.
“Jane is worried about some of the plants in the back gardens. Something about a sinkhole?” Iain shrugged. “I told her she and the other ladies should jump in because it was probably one of those hot spring mud bath natural spa treatment things, but she didn’t think I was amusing.”
“That’s because ya are not very funny,” Rory said.
“At least I’m handsome,” Iain quipped. “Unlike your unfortunate face—oh, hello, Jennifer.”
Iain winked at her, pretending like he was just now seeing her.
“Hey,” Jennifer answered.
“Ya want coffee? I was about to make some for Jane and me,” he offered.
“No, thank you,” Jennifer said. “And I recommend starting a fresh pot. Cait potioned the last one.”
“She…” Iain quirked a brow and looked at Rory. “Potioned?”
“She knows about magick,” Rory stated. “Our mothers gave her a crash course last night.”
“Oh?” Iain glanced at Jennifer.
“Cheese ball,” Jennifer said.
“I’m afraid to ask.” Iain shook his head. “All I can say is, welcome to the asylum. Once you’re in, you’re never getting rid of us. Kind of like kudzu in the South.”
Rory grimaced, expecting a bad reaction to Iain’s joking.
Jennifer surprised him when she smiled. “Thank you.”
Iain whistled as he continued to the kitchen. His voice could be heard coming from the other room. “Och, Aunt Cait, what is this I hear about ya giving Rory’s girl a potion in a cheese ball?”
Jennifer walked around the table and came toward him. She gave him a serious look and lowered her voice, “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” he whispered.
“What in the world is kudzu?”
Rory chuckled. “It’s an invasive plant that people say is slowly eating up the Southern landscape. Ya can see the vines draping over the trees when ya drive along the roads.”
“Gotcha.” She nodded.
“I didn’t like waking without ya there next to me.” Rory wasn’t sure what prompted him to admit as much, but he didn’t regret the words.
“I was going to bring coffee back for both of us, but your mother caught me going through the kitchen cabinets.” Jennifer put her arms around his neck. “I wasn’t snooping, I promise. I was looking for big coffee mugs. All I found were those tiny European espresso mugs, and that’s not going to do it for my habit.”
&
nbsp; “I didn’t assume ya were snooping,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist to keep her close to him. “Next time, wake me up, and I’ll get it for ya.”
“Next time?” She wrapped her arms a little tighter around him. “That’s awfully presumptuous of you to assume, Mr. MacGregor. Though I will admit, I was snooping through your bedroom before I came down, making sure there were no pictures of old girlfriends hiding anywhere.”
“Don’t think I have any of those lying around, Miss, um…” Rory frowned. “Well, this is embarrassing, love.”
“What?” She leaned back to study his face. Her arms slid from around his neck to rest on his chest. “You do have pictures of your exes? It’s not a big deal. I was only teasing.”
“No, not that. I’m afraid I don’t know your last name.” He heard footsteps coming down the stairs in the other room but didn’t release her. It felt too good to hold her in his arms.
“To be fair, I did seduce you rather quickly,” she said.
“Hey, I thought I seduced ya with my charms,” he countered.
“Charm?” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “No, don’t remember any charm. I do remember thinking your kilt was rather sexy. And we American girls are suckers for an accent.”
“Are ya going to tell me your surname?” he asked.
“Haven’t decided,” she said, acting coy.
“What if I ask nicely?” He had to kiss her. How could he resist with her mouth being so close?
Jennifer gave a light moan as his lips moved against hers.
“Och, Raibeart! What in the name of all that is holy are ya wearing?” Murdoch’s voice demanded from the kitchen. The elders typically stayed in the wing beyond the dining room and kitchen. It was evident the house was beginning to stir for the day.
“Ya like it? I ordered it online,” Raibeart answered. “My package finally arrived.”
“Oh, my stars!” Cait exclaimed.
“I like it, Uncle Raibeart,” Iain said. “It’s got…lots of holes.”
“Ya can’t wear that in public,” Cait continued.
“First, I can’t go naked. Now I can’t wear clothes?” Raibeart cried in frustration. “Make up your bloody mind, woman!”
A Dash of Destiny (Warlocks MacGregor Book 8) Page 11