by Susan Hayes
“That would be appreciated.”
“And you could show your appreciation by not making it harder than it has to be to do my job. I have to get onto that island, and the only one who can help me is your niece. I need her.”
“For the job,” Fisk drawled, his tone so thick with sarcasm Connell was surprised the words didn’t sink to the bottom of the ocean.
“Yeah, mate. For the job. We done here? I’m supposed to be meeting Breeze this morning. She’s the only other one who knows why I’m really here, and I need to get her up to speed on everything.”
“We are done, for now.” Fisk started to swim away, then stopped and tread water again. “You need us, send up a blue flare. We’ll come.”
“Got it. And thanks.” Hot damn, now, he had backup. By the time he got back to shore he’d figure out a way to spin that so he could tell head office it was an intentional recruitment, thus justifying why he’d partially blown his cover. They parted ways, the pod heading out to sea while he rode the waves back to the beach.
Now he just needed to talk to Breeze, fill her in on what he’d learned, and get her to whammy the wards on the gull’s little nest so he could wrap this up. No problem.
There is, though. Wrapping up means leaving, and we can’t leave. Not without our mate.
And there was that word again. Great Goddess in scuba gear, was it possible? Was Breeze really his mate? How would that even work?
We’d have a home. A family.
He was allergic to all of those words. So why wasn’t he breaking out in hives already? Was he actually okay with the idea?
He started humming before his inner voice could answer. He wasn’t ready to hear it.
He’d acquired Breeze’s address last night. Not hard to do in a town this small, he’d just asked one of the pixies for directions. The little folk navigated by landmark, and once he adjusted for the difference in their perspectives – pixies were tiny and every shrub looked like a skyscraper to them - it took him less than fifteen minutes to find her home. He pulled up to the front of the house and whistled. The pixies had told him it was a log house, but that was only true in the most basic sense. It was built of logs, yes, but this was a proper house, not some rustic cabin in the woods.
Two stories high, with a steeply peaked roof designed to shed both rain and snow, it blended seamlessly into the surrounding woods. Spring flowers overflowed their window boxes, and wildflowers grew in profusion all over the lawn, several of them obviously fairy circles. The house was nestled into a little cove, flanked by the forest and backing onto the ocean. He could see glimpses of the beach through the wind-twisted trees that lined the shore.
It was all idyllic and beautiful…except for the explosions.
He’d been following the sound for the last few minutes of his drive. At first, he’d thought there was some kind of magical battle raging nearby and gunned the engine, desperate to get to Breeze in case she was in trouble.
His fear didn’t last long. It only took a few repetitions for him to recognize a pattern to the noise. Boom. A brief pause, then another boom. It was as regular as a heartbeat, which meant it wasn’t a fight. Combat of any kind was messy and erratic, but a magical battle was pure chaos. This was something else.
“Pull!” Breeze shouted as he hopped out of the Jeep and made for the front door.
There was a crack, and a second later another explosion rocked the area. The noise was coming from the back of the house, so he changed course and followed the sounds of… he still didn’t know what the hell she was doing, exactly.
He rounded the corner and came across one of the strangest, most memorable sights of his life. Breeze was standing on the beach, her hair blowing in the morning wind off the water. She was wearing those sexy boots again, only this time paired with a flowing, boho-style dress of dark blue that gave him teasing glimpses of her legs every time the wind picked up. She was alone on the shore, with nothing but a broom hovering over a huge duffle bag full of… he squinted. Hockey pucks?
“Pull!” She cried out, and one of the pucks flew into the air. The broom swung around and struck the puck, sending it soaring out over the water, and then Breeze raised a finger and shot a bolt of dark blue magic at the projectile, blowing it to hell.
The magic swirled around, gathering the scraps of sizzling rubber, and brought them back to the beach to add to a pile set atop a tarp.
Sexy, powerful, and protective of the environment. Damn. She was getting more appealing by the moment. Connell walked toward her, half out of his mind with the need to pull her into his arms and kiss her, when a hissed whisper cut through the lust induced fog affecting him.
“I wouldn’t go any closer if I were you.”
It took him a few seconds to locate the rotund raccoon. He was hiding in a tree, watching Breeze with wide, worried eyes.
“What’s happening here?”
“Double pull,” Breeze called and the broom sent two more pucks sailing into the air so she could blow them to bits.
“She’s starting to remember. Oh, and she got her magic back. It’s a dangerous combination.”
The quiet, uncertain witch he’d met yesterday had been replaced by someone else, and he got a sense that Breeze was getting back more than her memories. She was finding out who she really was.
The woman on the beach stood with confidence, channelling her anger and her newly discovered magic into an impressive display. Even the timbre of her voice was different today. This wasn’t the same reserved little witch who claimed she was happy living a quiet life making cappuccinos.
As pleased as he was by some of the changes, he didn’t like seeing her hurting this way. He wanted to fix her, comfort her…and do other things, too. Things that involved long hot kisses and copious amounts of nudity. “How long has she been like this?”
“The powers thing kicked in the second she walked through the front door. The anger? That’s been building all night. She woke up in a mood not even chocolate chip pancakes and peanut butter could fix.” Snuffy shook his head. “That one always worked before. This is bad. I don’t know how to talk her down from this.”
Another crack of the broom and another boom tore through the air.
“I’ve got this.”
“If she explodes your ass, I’m not picking up the pieces.”
“She won’t.” At least, he hoped not. Every cell in his body screamed at him that this was his mate, that he needed to take care of her, take away her pain, and get her naked as soon as possible. She wasn’t a Shifter, but if she really was his mate, she should be feeling at least some of those things, too. If his instincts were right, he should be safe.
“Hey, lass. That’s quite an anger management system you’ve worked out for yourself.”
Breeze spun to face him, her eyes narrowing to slits. “You!”
“We had a date this morning, remember?” He kept his voice low and calm, and thanked the Goddess above he was dressed for this occasion. No zipper trauma this time, his twig and berries were swinging free beneath his favourite kilt.
“What have you done to me?” She yelled, and several of the pucks flew into the air and exploded all at once.
“Me? Nothing. I’ve had no part in what was done to you." Though he was going to beat the buggers to death with their own body parts when he found out who was behind it.
“Not that!” She stomped over to him and poked her finger into his chest to punctuate every word. “Why. Can’t. I. Stop. Thinking. About. You?”
His control broke like a wave on the rocks. He needed her more than he needed his next breath. There was no denying the truth any longer. Now he was here, he wasn’t sure why he’d even bothered to try. He hauled her into his arms, bowed his head and met her fiery gaze without a moment’s doubt. “Ah, that. You’re feeling what I am, my bonnie wee witch.”
“Make it stop!”
“I can’t. You’re my mate, Breeze Blackstone, and what we’re feeling won’t end until we do.” He lowe
red his head the last little bit and claimed her mouth with a kiss that seared him right down to his soul. Maybe being mated wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
Chapter Eight
She’d forgotten more of her life than she’d remembered. It wasn’t fair. Who the hell had done this to her? Was it Baba Yaga? Snuffy thought so, but she wasn’t so sure. It didn’t fit. Then again, nothing seemed to fit right now, which was why she was outside, blowing up a bag of practice pucks. She’d always wanted to try skeet shooting, and now, she had her own private firing range.
She’d finally started feeling a little better, and then Connell had arrived, looking like sex on a stick, dipped in yummy sauce and sprinkled with a generous amount of hell yeah. No man had a right to look that good, especially not after keeping her awake all night with his sexy selkie mojo-thingy. This morning she was tired, turned-on, and so sexually frustrated she’d been tempted to throw herself into the ocean to cool her overheated libido. And now here he was, all charm and smiles, wearing a black faux-leather kilt and a charcoal grey knit sweater that did things to his upper body that were probably illegal in some countries.
“What have you done to me?” She demanded.
The sexy bastard just smiled at her and denied it. But he had to be the reason she’d been up all night. She’d summoned him with her tears, and now she was in thrall to some sort of selkie sex magic. He needed to break the spell so she could get back to dealing with all the other insane things happening in her life right now. She didn’t have time to fall into bed with him, no matter how good he looked in that damned kilt.
“Not that!” She stomped over to him and poked her finger into his very broad, very hard chest and tried to remember why she was mad at him. Oh. Right. Because he was taking up all her mental bandwidth right now, and she had shit to do. “Why. Can’t. I. Stop. Thinking. About. You?”
His next words stopped her heart, though the look in his eyes as he said them started it right back up again. He wanted her. But there was more to it than that. This wasn’t flirting. He wasn’t trying to sweet talk her into bed. He meant every crazy word.
“I’m your wha—?” Her question melted away as his kiss made her forget how to form words. Her knees buckled, and she had to hang onto his shirt to stop herself from sliding down the front of his body to his feet. Hmmm maybe that wasn’t a bad idea. From there she could see what he was wearing under that kilt.
Connell didn’t give her the chance. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her in close, kissing her like it was an Olympic sport and he was going for gold. He tasted even better than he smelled, like all her favourite things bound up into one incredible, hotter-than-the-sun package. She ran her hands down his back, following lines of muscle down to the firmest ass she’d ever laid hands on.
His tongue stroked across her lower lip, and she shivered as little sparks that had nothing to do with her magic flowed through her. Holy Goddess on high, this was insane. She barely knew him, but right now all she wanted to do was get naked and do all sorts of wonderful, wicked things to his body while he returned the favour.
Their moment of passion was ended by a horrified shriek. “What? No! Get your flippers off of her! That’s not helping!”
Connell laughed, a deep rumble that rolled through her like summer thunder, turning her on even more. “Oh, I think it’s helping a great deal. You’re not angry anymore, are you, my beautiful witch?”
She was so drunk on Connell’s kisses it took her a second to remember. What did she have to be angry about? Her memory. Her family. Her magic. Goddess in gumboots, her magic was amazing! And she was rich. Still an orphan, but a rich, powerful one. So, things weren’t entirely awful.
She looked up at Connell, and her brain shorted out again. Nope, things were definitely not awful. “I’m not angry. I might get that way if we keep standing here, talking, though.”
His mouth curved up into a smile the devil himself would be tempted by. “And what would you rather be doing, then?”
She stretched up on her toes and gave him her best come-hither look. “You.”
“Ew. Goddess save us all. What is happening here?” Snuffy wailed.
“Hopefully nudity, followed by hours of incredible sex.” Connell leaned down to kiss her again, nibbling at her lower lip until she moaned. Goddess, his mouth was a lethal weapon.
“How many hours?”
“How long do we have before the party?”
“You think you’ve got that kind of stamina?”
He chuckled. “My dear little witch, you’re going to regret asking me that.”
“No, I’m not.” She cupped his ass in both hands and smiled up at him. “But I might regret asking you this. Are you sure this isn’t a side effect of the tears I summoned you with yesterday? I think I’m good if that’s all this is, but I’d like to know if this feeling is going to go away.”
He cradled her chin in his hand and gave her a boyish smile. His expression softened to one of wonder, and she realized she was seeing him at his most vulnerable. This was Connell unmasked, and she liked him this way.
“This is never going away. It took me all night and most of the morning to accept it, and there might have been more internal monologuing that a man should ever admit to, but I’m sure. The magic of the tears is temporary. This is forever. You’re my mate, Breeze Blackstone.”
Snuffy had joined them now. He was standing a few feet away, swaying and moaning dramatically. “I’m gonna be sick. This Aquaman-wannabe in a skirt is your mate? He’s going to live here? With us?”
She felt a pang of panic and turned back to Connell. “You’re moving in?”
“Not yet. No. But I’m hoping you’re going to invite me in, maybe give me the tour? I thought we’d start with your room.” He leaned down and blew in her ear. “Sex happens now. The rest, we’ll deal with later. We’ve got time to figure it out. The mission, us, all of it.”
She nodded. “Sex now. Talk later.” Connell was right. All her life she’d dreamed of being something special. Now, she was actually living the dream, and by the Goddess, she was going to enjoy it. Everything else could wait, at least for a little while. “Snuffy, you may want to close your eyes.”
“And plug your ears. I’m betting my little witch is a screamer.”
“Not really.”
Connell winked at her. “I’ll bet you three orgasms you’re wrong about that.” Goddess and glory, she’d never wanted to be more wrong about something in her life.
Her familiar slapped his paws over his face and groaned. “I’m going to town for a few hours. When I come home, please, don’t be naked. I’m not ready for that.” He waddled off, eyes still covered and muttering that kids grew up too fast.
“Poor Turd. He’s going to need therapy,” Connell laughed and swung her into his arms. “Point me to your bedroom, fast, or our first time is going to happen al fresco.”
She liked that idea almost as much as she liked the feral gleam of need in his eyes and the hint of a growl that accompanied his every word. “Good thinking.”
Connell froze. “You want to do it here?”
“Here. Now.”
“As my little witch wishes.” He pivoted, turning away from the house and toward a patch of lush grass and wildflowers in the sunniest part of the yard.
He set her down and kissed her again, groaning her name into her mouth as their tongues tangled for the first time.
When he lifted his head again, she placed her hands on the wall of his chest, feeling his heart beat beneath her palms. “Tell me again that this is real.”
“It’s real, Breeze.” He laid his hand over hers on his chest. “Feel that?”
“I do.”
“That’s for you.” He rocked his hips, pressing his oh so impressive erection into her stomach. “That’s for you, too.”
She reached down to cup him through the leather. “Lucky me.”
Connell hissed through his teeth. “Careful, lass. You keep doing that and we’re goi
ng to be skipping the preliminaries and going straight to the main event.”
She didn’t bother replying. She just flicked her fingers and sent a swirl of magic around them both. Their clothes vanished, reappearing in a neatly folded stack a few feet away. As magical beings, disease wasn’t an issue for either of them, and she was on the pill, so there was nothing stopping them. Not even clothing. Goddess, she loved her new powers.
“Fuck me,” he growled and pulled her down to the ground with him. “That’s cheating.”
“Is not, and yes please.”
His mouth slanted over hers as he rolled her onto her back, his arms holding most of his weight off of her, but there was enough friction between them to spark a dozen forest fires. “Please, what?”
She wrapped a leg around the back of one of his gorgeous legs and rubbed herself against every part of him she could. “Please, fuck me.”
He shuddered and uttered a primal groan. “That would be my pleasure, little witch.” He grinned as he settled his big body over hers. “Mine and yours.”
“Arrogant man.” She gasped as he shifted his weight to one arm and reached between them to slide a finger into her tingly bits.
“It’s not arrogant when you know it’s true.”
She gripped his powerful shoulders and fluttered her lashes at him. “Prove it.”
And holy Goddess in platform heels, he did.
He moved with frustrating slowness at first, making her gasp and writhe beneath him as he eased himself inside of her. His muscles bunched and tensed under her hands as he fought to stay in control. Goddess, it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen, or felt.
He filled her in ways she’d only heard described in romance novels, her body reacting to his like a nuclear power plant going into meltdown. She lifted her head to brush several kisses across his chest, letting her lips graze over the light smattering of dark red hairs that formed a treasure trail all the way down to his… Her thoughts derailed as he started to move faster, every thrust harder and quicker than the one before.
