School of Magical Arts - New York City Campus Box Set

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School of Magical Arts - New York City Campus Box Set Page 17

by Chandelle LaVaun


  ROYCE.

  Actually NONE of you are helping. Amelia made me wear this.

  Sooo let Deacon take it off? Tegan sent with the smiling devil emoji.

  Just not inside the restaurant... Bettina said.

  Don’t listen to my best friend, her BF is British. He wouldn’t.

  Oh, but Tenn WOULD? Lennox sent with laughing emojis.

  Bettina sent the emoji of the monkey covering its ears. EW NOT MY BROTHER. I’M NOT READY TO HEAR THESE THINGS.

  Tenn here…for the record, I have never, Tennessee said from Tegan’s phone.

  HAVEN NOT HELPING!

  That didn’t sound like he wouldn’t… Lennox said.

  CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. Tegan sent back.

  Wait which restaurant? Royce asked.

  Marriciana’s.

  Oooooooh shit. Their bathrooms are single use and large enough for two.

  Dude is tryin’ to get y’all arrested. Lennox said.

  They’re rich enough to make bail even without Deacon’s magic. Henley said with a winking face.

  Tenn here again. In other news, we’ll be holding a lesson on not abusing our power right after Yule.

  “Okay, all done. This should do it.” Amelia sounded pleased with her work.

  The limo pulled over to the side of the busy street and my pulse fluttered. ALRIGHT Y’ALL AREN’T HELPING AT ALL. WE’RE HERE NOW. G2G. PRAY FOR ME….AND DEACON.

  Then I shoved my phone into my little Chanel clutch so I wouldn’t be tempted to look at their responses.

  Deacon climbed out of the limo then held his hand out for me. I placed my hand in his and let him pull me to my feet on the street. Bitter, ice-cold air whipped down the street like we were in a wind tunnel. I hissed and pulled my coat tighter. Only my neck, hands, and ankles were uncovered but that was far too much for this weather. I didn’t know why women tortured themselves to look all fancy once the temperature dropped to single digits. If it were me, I’d live in fleece-lined pants and Ugg boots, and about five sweaters under my coat.

  And I was naturally warm from my fire magic.

  But this five-degree nonsense was bullshit.

  Why do people live here?

  Deacon gripped my elbow and rushed us inside the grand, gold-trimmed revolving doors. Thick, warm air slammed into me and I actually sighed. Out loud. My body tingled as it tried to thaw out just from those fifteen feet of exposure. Deacon chuckled and put his hand on the small of my back then led me over to where a young guy stood next to a big closet. He wore a black suit and a name tag that I couldn’t read because my eyeballs were frozen.

  The guy smiled wide and held his hands out. “I’ll take your coats.”

  I frowned. I was still cold. I didn’t want to give it up.

  But Deacon already had his off. Amelia bounced right over to the guy and handed him her coat. I glanced to my left and found Heather and Sebastien already unbuttoning theirs. Dammit. Okay, act cool. I cleared my throat and slowly began unbuttoning my double-breasted wool coat that was super warm. I stalled, pretending to be stuck on a button while I soaked in as much warmth as I could – knowing my dress did nothing to fight the cold.

  “Emersyn?”

  I looked up and found Deacon holding his hand out in front of me. Fine. Stupid backless, sleeveless dress. I yanked it off of me like I was ripping off a band-aid, then held it out to Deacon. He took it and turned back to the coat-checker-dude while goosebumps attacked my bare skin. I balled my fists at my sides and summoned my flames just enough to fill my hands with heat but not enough for any wandering human eyes.

  Deacon thanked the coat guy then turned toward me. “All right, we’re all set. Let’s go inside and—” Deacon choked on his words and his eyes bugged out wide.

  I held my breath, waiting for his reaction.

  His gaze traveled down my body slowly, then back up with his mouth hanging open. He blinked and licked his lips. Then his jaw dropped again. “I…I…um…”

  My heart sank. “You don’t like it?”

  “Are — are you…” Deacon cleared his throat and stepped closer to me. His gaze dropped down then shot back up to my face, his cheeks flushed. “Are you not…are you…”

  Oh. I smirked and shrugged one shoulder, going for nonchalant. “In this dress? Nope, not wearing one.”

  He groaned and ran his hand through his hair. “Oh Goddess, please don’t run in that —wait no — please do run in that. Or skip. Do jumping jacks? The Bend and Snap?”

  I giggled and turned away from him so he wouldn’t see the burning redness in my cheeks — the proof of what kind of effect he had on me.

  “Oh, dammit woman.”

  “What?” I glanced over my shoulder and found him scrubbing his face with his hands and shaking his head. “What are you mumbling over there? Got a problem with my dress?”

  He narrowed his eyes and waved his hands. “Don’t look over your shoulder at me like a pinup doll, not when I have to be civilized.”

  “Emersyn?”

  I spun at the sound of Chris’s voice…and found him standing just inside the door, with his parents behind him. All three of them stared at me with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Chris looked me up and down – his jaw dropped.

  “Oh…hi…” I walked closer while running my hands over my dress. “Chris. Joyce and Paul.”

  Joyce smiled and gave me a hug. “Oh, honey, you look beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Joyce.”

  “Yeah…yeah, you look…” Chris’s gaze lingered just like Deacon’s had except I didn’t want his to. “Very pretty.”

  Paul cleared his throat and pointedly looked away from me. “This is some place you got here, kiddo. Glad I packed my slacks.”

  “Are we dressed okay for here?” Joyce whispered.

  They wore classy, simple clothes. Their outfits weren’t expensive or designer. I didn’t even need to look at the garment tags to know. I knew them. I’d never seen them in something other than cotton and tonight wasn’t an exception. Although, given what I’d recently learned about shifters and their clothing, it suddenly made a lot more sense.

  “You’re dressed fine. Plus, you’re with us.” Deacon gestured toward the wooden doors. “Follow us and we’ll get to a table.”

  I smiled at them, then started toward the door. Deacon stepped up beside me and pressed his hand to the small of my back. My bare back. The heat of his skin sent warmth floating through my limbs. I peeked over my shoulder – Chris stared at Deacon’s hand like it was a monster about to attack him.

  The second we stepped through the wooden double doors, Paul whistled under his breath.

  “There you are, I was just about to come looking.” Heather smiled and stepped forward in her classic black Louboutin pump. She also wore a black dress, but hers was a turtleneck and the material wasn’t as clingy.

  Sebastien was still in his gray three-piece suit, and Amelia wore pink glittery ankle boots with a little black dress of her own.

  I turned to our guests then gestured toward Deacon’s parents. “This is Deacon’s family, they’re joining us for dinner this evening. This is Heather, his mother. Sebastien, his father. And Amelia, his first cousin extraordinaire.”

  They all shook hands and smiled.

  “Madame English?”

  Heather spun around to the waiter at the door. “Yes, we’re ready now. Please lead the way.”

  We followed her in silence into a beautiful dining room filled with soft golden light from low hanging crystal chandeliers. Spread throughout the room were large white tables that had to seat at least ten. Heather led us to a table then gestured for us to sit. Deacon pulled my chair out, so I slid onto the cool leather seat.

  “Good evening, friends,” a middle-aged waitress said with a soft drawl as she stepped up to the table. “May I get you something to drink?”

  “Kendall Jackson chardonnay, please,” Heather said softly.

  Sebastien smiled. “Oh, you know, I think I’ll have the same this e
vening.”

  “Coke for me, please?” Amelia grinned at me.

  I met the waitress’s eyes. “Coke as well, thanks.”

  Deacon pursed his lips. “Sprite. Thanks.”

  “Same here.” Chris nodded like this was a major sign of approval or something.

  Paul lifted his finger into the air. “Jack and coke, ma’am.”

  “Do you have sweet ice tea?”

  “Sweet tea?” The waitress frowned and shook her head. “No, we don’t do that here.”

  Joyce groaned. “Oh, darn. Well, all right, I suppose I’ll have a ginger ale. Thanks.”

  “Excellent, thank you.” The waitress stepped back. “I’ll be right back with those.”

  Three more waiters came rushing over with white linen covered carts full of food. None of us spoke as they began picking up the plates and placing them all in the middle of the table. Each was a long white plate offering different lightweight snacks —from a cheese selection, vegetables and dips, caviar, and even shrimp cocktails served in glass goblets.

  The waitress returned carrying a massive tray that held each of our drinks of choice in glass cups. She quickly sat them down, then hurried away.

  “What kind of place is this?” Chris asked with a frown.

  Deacon chuckled softly. “This is the first room. We have finger foods here before moving into the main dining room to order proper appetizers and entrees.”

  “I’m sorry, did you say the first room?” Chris’s eyes widened. “How many rooms are there?”

  “Only the two.” Sebastien loosened the button on his sleeve. “This room and then the main dining room. After dinner, this room serves as a post-meal dessert room.”

  Just then two waiters who had to be my age wheeled white linen-covered carts up to our table.

  It was my turn to frown. “What is this?”

  “Create your own salmon toast.” Deacon gestured to the items on the plates. “First you pick what you’d like – salmon, bread crackers, eggs, capers, etc. Then they make it right here for you.”

  Sebastien grinned up at the waiter. “Nico, you know how I like these.”

  Nico chuckled. “Yes, sir.”

  Paul rubbed his hands together. “Oh, Lord have mercy, how do I pick?”

  Heather smiled. “Nico, why don’t you whip up a variety of different sandwiches for them to try?”

  “Very well, ma’am.”

  As Nico began preparing their sandwiches, Chris’s attention turned back to me. He sat directly across from me, with his parents on either side of him. With his father next to Sebastien and his mother on the other side next to Amelia – who sat on my left side. Deacon sat on my right. I tried to keep my facial expressions neutral, but I was probably failing.

  Chris cleared his throat. “So…Emersyn…you’ve got a tattoo now, huh? Can’t say I saw that one coming.”

  “Oh, that’s not a tattoo,” Amelia said as she took a bite of her little custom salmon sandwich.

  Chris frowned and looked back and forth between her and I. “It’s not? That there on her right arm? It covers her whole upper arm.”

  My pulse quickened and my stomach tightened into knots. I didn’t know why I was nervous, it wasn’t like I wanted Chris back. It wasn’t like our relationship had been all that serious.

  Amelia swallowed her bite. “That is not a tattoo. It’s a soulmate mark.”

  Chris gasped and sat up straighter. “What?”

  Joyce shook herself. “Sorry, did you say soulmate?”

  “She did.” Heather sat her glass of wine down. “From what I’ve heard since the shifters started at SOMA, your soulmate markings work pretty similarly to ours. Except for arcana, it is upon first sight and not first touch.”

  Amelia nodded. “Deacon and Em have been soulmates since late August, right?”

  Chris leaned forward and met my gaze. “Is this true? He’s your soulmate?”

  I smiled and turned to Deacon. I reached out and unbuttoned the top of his black button-down shirt enough to reveal the lavender heart-shaped crystal glistening from the center of his chest – while ignoring the heat of his skin every time my fingers touched him.

  Amelia picked up her glass. “It used to be blue when they first got here, but now it’s purple.”

  Paul scratched his jaw. “What does purple mean?”

  I looked up and met Deacon’s gaze and my whole body warmed.

  “True love,” Heather said softly. “The kind that comes after significant stressful events.”

  “True love,” Chris whispered.

  But I didn’t look over to gauge his reaction. I kept my eyes on my prize even though my cheeks were burning. Deacon grinned like the Devil he was and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. He ran the tips of his fingers over the bare skin on my shoulder and my body was about to melt from his touch.

  “Wow. That’s…intense.”

  Deacon’s hand landed on my thigh and my brain short-circuited. Heat exploded and my whole body flushed. My pulse raced out of control.

  You have no idea. I forced a chuckle.

  “Miss, your sandwich?”

  I jumped and looked up at the waiter, thankful for the reprieve and distraction.

  This is gonna be a long night.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Emersyn

  Deacon sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. He bent over and pulled his shoes and socks off, then yanked his belt from his pants. He kept groaning.

  I slipped out of my shoes and strolled over to stand in front of him. “Lots of huffin’ and puffin’ over here. What’s wrong?”

  He reached out and gripped my hips. His thumbs dug into my skin, the heat of his body burned through my clothes. “This dress for starters.”

  My pulse skipped erratically as I placed my hands on his shoulders and stepped between his legs. “What about it?”

  I felt each of his ten fingertips drag across my ass before he slid his hands down the sides of my thighs. His gaze traveled over my chest and I felt undressed in front of him, despite the thin layer of black material between us. But the thirsty look in his eyes had body burning like a volcano about to erupt. I ran my fingers through his hair and pushed his head back then I leaned down and took his mouth with mine.

  We both groaned as our lips crashed together. I cupped his jaw and tilted his head back to deepen our kiss but when his tongue brushed over mine a strangled kind of moan left my throat. He gripped the backs of my knees then pulled my legs up and apart. I gasped against his mouth then took his bottom lip between my teeth. He slid my dress up until both of his hands were completely pressed against my bare skin.

  He broke away and cursed.

  I reached down and grabbed the hem of his shirt then peeled it off of his body. His arms wrapped tight around me like a boa constrictor, squeezing me flush against this bare chest. I moaned and then his hands were in my hair…then on my ribs…then gripping my hips.

  And then I was flipped, and my back hit the bed with Deacon on top of me, lying between my legs. I hooked one leg around his hips and held him tight. His hands were everywhere all at once, leaving a trail of fire in my veins. I was squirming under him. My body was screaming yes, but there was still an annoying little thing in my brain telling me we needed to stop.

  It was like a train whistle, soft and distant at first but with every roll of Deacon’s hips or flick of his tongue the sound grew stronger and closer.

  Deacon gasped and then he was gone.

  I pushed up on my elbows and found him lying on his back beside me. His chest was rising and falling rapidly. A thin layer of sweat shimmered across his chest and abs. I rolled on top of him and slid my tongue into his mouth.

  He kissed me long, hard, and deep and then he pulled back. “Wait, wait. Emersyn, stop.”

  I sucked in a deep breath and let him roll me onto my side. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing and everything,” he said with a groan.

  “That doesn’t make sense.”
I cupped his face and tried to pull his mouth back down to mine but he didn’t budge.

  “Emersyn.” He shook his head. “Talk to me. What’s going on in your head?”

  I wiggled against him. “Can’t you tell?”

  He groaned and cupped my jaw. “I can tell what your body wants, but I can sense your head isn’t in the game. Talk to me.”

  I cursed. “I’m sorry.”

  He smiled and brushed his thumb over my cheek. “It’s okay if you’re not ready—”

  “Is it?” I looked up into his violet eyes.

  “Of course it is.” He frowned and shook his head. “What would make you question it?”

  I bit my lip and shrugged. “You. Tonight. With Christian and the showing off and that restaurant. I know he’s my ex and all, and maybe you’re jealous—”

  “This is about Christian?” He gestured between our bodies. “This is about him?”

  “NO. Yes. I don’t know.” I groaned. “I just thought…I don’t know…maybe I needed to give you some…physical affection so you’d know I was yours or something—”

  “Emersyn Howe Bishop.” He took my face in his hands and forced my eyes to meet his. “I love you. I love where your heart was here, but that’s not how this is going to happen.”

  My heart sank. “Don’t you want to?”

  He chuckled and his eyes twinkled. “Oh, you have no idea how much I want to. But I can wait. I will happily wait until you know you’re ready. For you, I am patient. And I have this soulmate glyph to tell me that you’re mine.”

  “Okay, but I just wanted you to know that I’m yours and not his and there’s no competition or chance or —”

  He pressed his lips to mine then pulled away far too quickly. “Listen to me, Butterberry. We’re not the same people we were when we just met. These glyphs are lavender now, that means every time I see it on me or you, I know we have true love. Yes, you’ve got an ex neither of us expected to show up here who definitely still has feelings for you. And yeah, I’ve had…experience prior to you. But none of that matters.”

  My heart fluttered. “It doesn’t?”

  He shook his head. “And I want you when you’re ready to have me. Not a moment sooner.”

 

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