His lips tightened. A wave of sorrow washed over her as she gazed into his eyes.
“My mother held much trust in you.”
Tori dropped her chin and lowered her gaze to the floor. She struggled to regain her composure before losing it all and becoming a weepy disaster in the linen closet. Weston might exude a stoic exterior, but his sorrow and loss gaped like a chasm in the heart.
He continued, “I will trust you as she did, but reserve your judgment until I finish.”
Tori looked up and watched his resolve crumble. Tears collected like tiny pools beneath his ice blue eyes. He shoved a tense hand over immaculate hair and then shook his head as if clearing some mental space. Weston went on, sadness coloring his tale as he told her in detail what transpired after her final session with Delana.
Chapter Eleven
THE NORTH STAR International Resort nightclub couldn’t claim to be the largest or the ritziest high-class joint in Europe. What it lacked in refinement it made up for with top of the line electronics and a crowd that only seemed to care about having a good time. Music blared fast and loud. The bass notes thumped in the floorboards and in his chest. The people were even louder, and almost everyone danced. The techno beats did nothing for Leif other than make him wish to be someplace else. Compared to the frozen, and nearly silent, snow-covered wonderland outside, the contrast of the club was almost too much to withstand.
His day had gone almost as abysmally as the rest of this impromptu trip to Europe. Nothing had been working out in his favor. Although he received a reliable tip from Breck that Weston passed through the Ivano-Frankivsk International Airport and Tori’s magical stone basin clearly showed Weston at this resort, he could find nothing more of this man. The day had been a six-hour trek of mind-numbing grunt work. No one had seen or heard of Weston. The people who lived and worked at the resort were as impenetrable as a bank vault. He couldn’t get a read on any of them. That in and of itself told him that this was not by any means a normal investigation. It was like trying to force his way through a ten-foot thick concrete wall with his bare hands. Not a clue to Weston’s whereabouts could be garnered from the locals. If not for Tori’s unexplainable “magic” and the things he already witnessed, he would say the lead reached a dead end. Somehow, Leif was starting to recognize when undefinable influences were at work. However discouraged, giving up wasn’t in him. At least not until every avenue had been completely exhausted. Tori was the avenue not yet explored… at least not fully.
The day spent apart had been a good decision. She had been embarrassed by her behavior during the flight. He told her not to be ashamed about her phobia, but he could tell she was anyway. Close proximity coupled with extended travel time could turn the most docile and agreeable people into enemies. He was glad when she agreed they should take the day to investigate separately. Leif now only hoped her search had gone better than his.
He didn’t expect to find Tori in the middle of the dance floor with not one but three musclebound sleazy tossers grinding against her lean and apparently willing body. So much for her earlier apology for her behavior. The fluid movements and the way her head fell back, exposing her throat and chest to two of the men made Leif think she was also drunk again. Tori was not like any woman he’d ever experienced before. It galled him how many times he caught himself thinking about her today. Not only because of the case either. Their shared kisses warmed his blood, and that blood pooled like lava in his loins every damn time he saw her.
Leif set his jaw, attempted to tune out the incessant pounding music against his eardrums, and strolled onto the dance floor to grab her attention. Her eyes were closed. Her hands lay on Mr. Steroid Abuser’s waist. The dude at her back had his lips close to her ear. And the lumbersexual hipster ski bum had his hands on everyone.
“Tori?” he yelled over the music. She pivoted and moved into the arms of the guy behind her. He yelled her name again. A woman wearing enough eye shadow to be mistaken for a raccoon with absurdly red lips appeared in front of him. She wound her hand behind his neck and bounced provocatively against him to the beat. Her half shirt and leggings could be considered a second skin and left nothing to the imagination of her shape and level of fitness. Leif leaned back and scanned the club for Tori, but the woman moved with him. An exploratory hand slid over his backside and squeezed. She said something in what he thought was Ukranian, but it could have been Russian. He really didn’t care, and only half heard anyway because the level of the music drowned out everything.
Leif removed her hand from his ass and rotated her into the arms of Mr. Lumbersexual. They appeared to be familiar with each other or not care as they melted together and bounced out of his circle. If it were that easy to change partners, he would try again. This time sliding in position with Tori in front of him.
“We need to talk,” he said into her ear. Leif took her by the hips and matched her fluid movements.
Her eyes opened with surprise. Recognition sparked like jade on fire in those incredible eyes, and then her mouth was on his. Damn it all to hell. He’d replayed their kisses in his mind an embarrassing amount of times, and now it was happening again. He kissed her back but didn’t fully lose himself in the chaos of his surroundings, the incredible sensation of her mouth, or her body pressed against his. He moved them across the dance floor, their kiss never breaking. She moved like flames licking against fresh fuel to feed the fire. The thought that he’d get burned flittered through his subconscious, but it was so fleeting as to be little more than a passing gnat of thought.
“What are you doing here?” he asked after pulling back at last. It had taken him God knew how long to search through almost every building, restaurant, and the spa on the resort grounds to finally locate her. In hindsight, he should have checked all the locations that sold alcohol first, but he’d been gullible enough to believe her when she apologized for getting drunk on the plane.
“Let’s get out of here.” She tugged him toward the exit.
Leif wanted nothing better and followed her up the stairs to the quieter bar area, and over to a coat check. She grabbed her parka and slid it on, then took his hand and led him out of the West Lodge.
Leif remained quiet, but he observed her with careful attention. She didn’t sway or swerve drunkenly. He hadn’t tasted the sweet tang of alcohol on her lips.
“It’s a hell of a life we live,” she said, gazing at a star filled sky. “Did you know we’re just waiting to die… alone? We’re all going to be alone at the end. But it’s not really the end. Only a brutal transition for those who are left behind.”
Okay, she was definitely drunk, or high, or loopy from one of her potions. Maybe all of the above. Leif questioned his decision to drop everything and follow his gut and Tori Morgan halfway around the world in pursuit of a suspect. “What have you been doing with yourself today, Tori?”
Tori dropped his hand and veered toward the lake in front of West Lodge instead of heading toward East Lodge and their rooms. Baffled, he ran said hand over his scalp and tried to loosen the tense muscles around his shoulders.
“This and that,” she said without looking back at him.
Leif didn’t hurry to catch up but followed behind a few paces back.
“Mostly contemplating how I want to live my life.”
“Does living your life include sleazy men drooling all over you?”
“Do I detect a hint of jealousy in that question?” Tori stopped beating the trail with her dreadfully inappropriate heels and turned to face him.
The sly grin teasing her lips raised his blood pressure. Jealousy shouldn’t exist between them, and yet there it sat like a troll holding a neon sign that read, “She’s Mine. Hands Off.”
“What’s up with you tonight? You’re acting strangely. Stranger than normal.” He stared into her guarded eyes. The haughty defiance turned him on. He would never admit it, but damn if this woman didn’t trigger his testosterone in every annoying way.
“Am I strange?�
�� She didn’t wait for his answer. “I think you secretly like it.”
“I don’t. You’re sexy, but your weirdness turns me off.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“What about when I do this?”
Tori stepped into his personal space and placed a hand on his chest. He should have stepped away, but the challenge and the deviousness in her eyes wouldn’t allow him to back down. Her inner witch was about to appear, and he found himself too fascinated to turn away.
The frozen lake and the snow-covered scenery of the surrounding resort fell out of existence. He and Tori were suddenly inside her room. A fire crackled in the fireplace and the room glowed softly with the flickering amber light from the flames. Tori stood before him, no longer dressed in her low-cut sweater dress and heeled boots, but in extremely short pajama bottoms and a snug fitting tank top. The fact that she was braless didn’t escape his notice. The hint of her rose-colored nipples peaked through the thin cotton like tightened buds ready to bloom. Leif sucked in a steadying breath as he tried to get a grip on reality. The breath didn’t succeed. Part of him knew they still stood outside in the cold, but he didn’t feel it. The fire warmed his skin. The evergreen garland draped over the mantle smelled of spruce and pine. Lit candles decorated her lodge suite and cast soft yellow light in the far corners. He could smell the beeswax. Her fingernails traced a path across his chest. He glanced down at her slender fingers and painted nails and noticed he no longer wore his jacket. His clothes transformed to relaxed jeans and a flannel shirt. The illusion captured him, and he was getting sucked into it.
Man, she messed with him. How could he begin to explain the rush of feeling when she challenged everything he thought he knew? About women. About reality. About himself.
She leaned up and kissed him. If her kiss were poison, he’d gladly drink it. Soft, tantalizing, teasing, and seductive were the only thoughts crossing his absent mind. Their tongues entwined, and she tasted of fresh peach with a hint of sweet spice. When the bite of winter should be on his cheeks and bare hands, he only felt the heat of Tori. She radiated warmth as if she were fueled by an inner fire. Her hair had been up in a complicated coil at the nightclub but now was only held back in a loose ponytail. Leif reached around and pulled the ribbon free. Her hair fell in a curtain of red silk. He palmed the back of her neck and let his fingers tunnel up through her hair as he claimed her fully with his mouth. She was slightly damp like she just stepped out of the shower and the thought of her naked and wet only moments before drove him wild.
The illusion became so powerful that he forgot about standing outside the lodge. All that mattered was their connection. Kissing her was like finding seventh heaven, paradise, and nirvana all in one. She became an instant addiction and no one in their right mind could walk away from a drug like her.
“You do like it,” she said as he sucked on the tender skin of her neck.
“I don’t like it. You’ve bewitched me, and I’m stupid enough to not care.”
Behind a thin veil of clouds, the opaque moonlight cast its silver light on the frozen lake. The sting of winter air returned with a bite to Leif’s cheeks. Tori laughed at his words as she took his hand and pulled him away from the lakeside. Before he knew what happened, she swiped a card key and the door to her suite swung open. Tori grabbed him by the belt and towed him in. She waved her hand and said words that sounded like Latin. The fire across the large open room blazed to life inside the fireplace.
A hiccough of hesitation brought reality back like a slap in the face… or more accurately, to the groin. He’d apparently only been thinking with that singular area of his anatomy. He stalled out by the door. The exit. His sanity remained on the other side of the threshold, and he couldn't choose which side to stand on. Tori turned back around and looked him up and down. The illusion she manifested outside was now happening in real time. His mind reeled as he tried to process what was actually happening versus what he’d imagined.
“I’m right here. No more magic. Just you and me. Naked.” Tori let her coat slip to the floor as she closed the gap between them. She reached for his hand placed it on the V-neck opening of her dress.
The swell of her breast rose and fell with every breath beneath his fingertips. Her heart beat steady and quick. His own heart raced. Her hand found his thigh, and she stroked down its length and back up again.
She placed her lips against the side of his neck. “Stop holding back. We both want this to happen. And I’m offering myself to you with no commitment whatsoever.”
Her mouth moved over his heated flesh until she found his lips. She paused, holding back her kiss. A dark challenge twinkled in her eyes. Her hand found his manhood, and she pressed her palm to him.
“Tell me no, and I’ll never offer myself to you again.”
A statement? A threat? A promise? He didn’t fully comprehend what she meant. The way she used her palm on him woke an inner beast. It needed to be released, and she was not only asking but overtly pursuing him.
A growl rose from his chest as he reacted with speed and deftness to her advance. He grabbed her wrists, spun one-eighty, and pushed her against the door. Leif pinned her wrists over her head with one hand and cupped her breast in the other. She arched her back, pressing into his palm. Leif placed his lips against hers, and she met him with a fierce intensity that matched his own. He kissed her until he felt drunk on her taste and then pulled back.
“You’re tempting me past being able to stop, woman.”
“I’m not tempting. I’m purposely seducing you.”
His hand snaked over her ribcage and continued down until he found the hemline of her dress. Leif yanked the fabric up to her hip. “At least we’re clear on what’s happening here.”
“I’m perfectly clear.”
Tori’s captured hands struggled for release. Leif held them in place as his other hand continued to explore her. He stared into her eyes, watching to see how much she wanted freedom. She stopped resisting almost immediately. Good, he thought. He wanted her captured in front of him. She needed a taste of what he felt like when she used magic on him, and he was utterly helpless to fight it.
“No more hocus-pocus. I want you without any illusions,” he said. His fingers found the edge of her panties. He could already feel the dampness between her legs. His erection hardened, and pressed against the confining jeans. He dipped a finger in and found her slick, heated center.
Tori dropped her gaze, breaking their connection. Her long cinnamon lashes lay against flushed cheeks. Leif watched her swallow before answering. Warm breath passed through slightly parted lips swollen from their kisses.
“I was born with magic in my blood. I can’t turn it off.”
“Then we’re done.” He withdrew his playful hand and placed it against the door. “I won’t have my mind toyed with. Not like this. Not when I’m inside you.”
Her eyes found his. The strength he’d come to recognize and appreciate flared brilliant and determined.
“This is who I am. I cast the illusion outside, but I’m not using magic right now.”
Tori yanked her hands free, and he let her go. She didn’t duck under his arms but stood defiantly as if waiting for him to decide.
“No more mind fucks, Tori.”
She glanced down at his waistline. A sly smirk twitched behind those lips.
“If you’re no longer interested, I can always go back to the bar,” she challenged.
He narrowed his eyes. Somehow, he knew she didn’t mean it, but only said the stinging words to prod him into action. It worked. No other man would have her the way he would. Tonight. Tomorrow. Never. The need to possess her was maddening.
“Don’t screw with me.” He lowered his hands to her hips and held her against the back of the door.
“I’m the only one here waiting to be screwed.” Her inner demoness shined from within. She reveled in it.
She tempted, teased, and intrigued him more than he wanted
to admit. Leif dove in blind, ignoring every warning bell sounding inside him. He caught the breath of a laugh before seeking her mouth again.
Their hands sought new unexplored territory with equal fervor. Leif caressed, stroked, and sought to feel and taste every inch of her. Tori found his belt, unbuckled it, and lowered his zipper. He shoved her dress up around her waist and lifted her silky thigh. She eagerly wrapped her leg around his waist and clung to him. Tori’s nimble hands worked at freeing his swollen member. She guided him toward her opening. Leif’s tongue plunged into her mouth as she put the tip of him against her. He needed no further coaxing. He held her panties aside and slid into her. Her moan of pleasure soared through his bloodstream and excited every cell in his body from head to toes.
Leif pulled back and pushed forward, again and again, losing himself to the heat of her, the sounds emanating from her throat, and the sweetness of her mouth. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her lower body clenched. He wanted this to last and slowed down his rhythm. His hands reached down and wrapped around her thighs, and he lifted her off her feet. Tori’s legs anchored around his hips. He carried her across the suite to the king sized bed. Leif placed her on her back and followed the firelight's path over her face, neck, down the V of her low cut top to her exposed midriff. She was beauty incarnate. A seductress without trying. An evil temptress when she did. He unzipped one tall boot and slid it over her sculpted calf and then the other, drinking her in with his eyes the entire time. Her heels pressed into his ass, pushing him forward to resume what they had started.
“We’re not done yet,” she said with a coy smile.
“I’m just getting started.” He sank into her, giving her his full length.
Her purring pleasure and tightening thighs nearly sent him over the edge, but he held back until she came apart around him. He let go, and his world came undone in an explosion of sparks and flames. She burned hotter than the furnaces of Hades, softer than a bed of down feathers. As he collapsed on top of her, he couldn’t care less that she might also be the queen mother of the devil himself.
A Witch's Fate: Witches of Lane County Page 13