by Kelly Moran
Mary Mother, he was magnificent. Hard pecs and a light dusting of dark hair leaving a goody trail to disappear in the waist of his jeans. Wide shoulders. Defined biceps. Gah, and the veins. They protruded like his tendons and strained against his olive skin.
He watched her with barely masked control while she flicked the snap of his pants. Released the zipper. The only thing louder than the teeth catching or the roar of the ocean were his ragged exhalations. His eyes dilated, and she eased the denim and briefs down his solid thighs to his ankles. Without heed, he kicked them aside.
Raking her nails over his hips, she bit her lip. His thick erection jutted from a thatch of hair just shades darker than the strands on his head and twitched at her attention. The head brushed his navel, moisture seeping from the tip, and she wrapped her fingers around him.
He groaned and threaded his fingers in her hair, palming her backside with the other hand. Bringing his mouth to hers, he spoke against her lips. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long.”
“Me, too.” She trembled, aching. Everywhere, she ached.
Pushing off the frame, he turned them and walked her backward toward the bed. He kissed her along the way with the determination of a man at the end of his rope and the tenderness of a lost lover. Her erect nipples grazed against the solid wall of his torso, teased into stiffer peaks by the softness of his chest hair. His scent of rain and aroused male wove around her and she moaned.
He broke away to toss the bedding by the footboard and lowered her to the mattress. He followed, and the cool sheets at her back contradicted the hot, hard male covering her. Reaching into the nightstand, he pulled out protection and sheathed himself.
But instead of taking her, he claimed her with open-mouthed kisses on her neck, her collarbone, while his hands sought every inch of skin he could reach. Her waist, her hips, her thighs, her breasts. She arched into his touch, her nerves sizzling and blazing a path through her whole system.
He moved lower, taking a nipple and suctioned it to the roof of his mouth. She cried out at the pain/pleasure combination and immediately snapped her lips shut.
“Don’t be quiet,” he grated, shifting to the other breast. “No one can hear us in here.”
At his repeat ministration, she whimpered and clenched his strands. Holding him to her, she wrapped a leg around his, desperate to cease the throbbing at the apex of her thighs. A groan, and he circled her navel with his tongue, then kept going. Lower, lower.
Parting her thighs, he settled between them. Unable to breathe, to think, she ground her hips and silently begged. As if knowing just what she needed, he closed his mouth around her, and she bowed.
“Brady,” she breathed. “Oh God.”
She chanted his name over and over until her lungs burned from the effort. Never letting up, he groaned like he loved the sound of her calling for him. The vibrations rumbled through her core and sent her on a one-way ticket to the edge of bliss. Gripping the pillow, she came, convulsing with her head thrown back.
While she was still experiencing aftershocks, he rose over her and nipped her chin. Passion clouded his eyes and his lids fell to half-mast. In his gaze was sentiment she’d never witnessed from another. “We’re not dreaming this time, sweetheart.”
Unsure whether he’d said that to remind himself or prepare her, she held his jaw. Whiskers scratched her palms and his lashes fluttered. “I think maybe we are.”
He smiled, gaze roaming her face. “Dream come true, then.” Brushing his nose against hers, he lifted onto his forearm and grabbed her behind the knee. “Whatever you do, don’t wake up.”
Gaze trained on hers, he entered her slowly as if needing to savor or desperate to take his time. The delicious stretch of them finally coming together made her throat tight. Filling her, he paused, brows furrowed and nostrils flared. They shared air, warm breaths mingling.
His jaw ticked the longer he stared. Emotions shimmered in his eyes, too many to name or trace, but she was certain they mirrored her own. Completion. Awe. Cadence. Affection. His muscles shook like he was restraining himself, and she wondered if he was waiting on him or her.
She ran her hands across his shoulders, down his back over the sharp blades, and stopped on the dips just above his taut rearend. He had such a wonderful body. Lean frame enhanced by hard muscle that gracefully shifted when he moved. Every inch of him seemed to respond to her, whether it was a catch of his breath or lowering of his lids or just the errant way he always seemed to burrow into her embrace.
Leaning in, she ran her tongue along the tendon in his neck to his ear and traced the shell. His hips jerked at her exploration, and he offered a shallow thrust. Heat blasted through her and she wrapped her legs around his, tangling them. Not one centimeter of her wasn’t connected to him, and he surrounded her completely, filled her absolutely. Again, he thrust, and that seemed to stir something inside him to act.
He brought his arms up over their heads, caging her face between two solid biceps, and dropped his forehead to hers. This time, when he thrust, he rolled his hips and his pelvis ground against her. Her needy noise filled the mere space between them and he repeated the motion like her reactions fueled his own.
Pace deliberate, he rocked deeper, took her as if he had all night to build her up and break her down in increments. Agonizing. His body fluxed under her hands, skin gliding against skin, and a tingle shot up her spine. She rose to meet him, but he had his full weight on her and she only managed to drive herself crazy by denying submission.
And something about giving in, surrendering to him and everything that had led them here, was utterly freeing. A vise of restraint snapped within her mind, and time imploded. Years melded into minutes and morphed into decades. A rubberband retracting and expanding, wielded by Fate’s manipulative hand. Her blood hummed and her molecules splintered. Hope infused the crevices of doubt. They were no longer apart, a fissure of distance, but one unit locking into place. Not an atom inside her didn’t note the change, feel its power, and she couldn’t drag oxygen into her lungs through the onslaught.
He rained kisses across her forehead, her cheeks, and pumped harder, faster, as if sensing the eruption within her and rising to meet her halfway. He didn’t claim her body, but absorbed her. Took her inside him the way she’d done to him. His frame tightened, his motions growing more frantic, and he buried his face in her hair.
“Kaida,” he groaned, then cursed as if pleading with her to save him.
She came on a soundless scream, the orgasm ripping through her. Gripping his shoulders from behind, she held on for all she was worth and rode out the tremors. He pulsed inside her, hips undulating, and barked a shocked cry behind her ear.
Even as her breath returned and she went lax, electricity still zinged through her like the current couldn’t be grounded. She held him to her, scared to let go. His heart thumped hard against her breast, seemingly wanting to reach through him to get to her. The way he siphoned air ruffled her hair and teased another tremble from her. He quaked on top of her, burrowing deep.
No, not a quake. Vibrations on an epic scale.
Forcing her eyes open, she glanced down the length of him and realized it wasn’t her imagination. A slight glow emitted from her skin, from his, creating a white halo around their joined forms. The air shimmered.
Oh God. “Brady?”
“Give me a moment, sweetheart,” he mumbled against her neck, not bothering to lift his head. “Planets just collided.”
“Um, I think something magical happened.”
“No kidding.” He moved the slightest bit to brush a kiss over the skin behind her ear.
“Brady.” She nudged his shoulder. “I mean literally. Look.”
He shifted onto his forearms and froze. Blinked. Shook his head. His wide gaze took her in, then his chin dipped while he looked at himself. “Holy crap.” He held up his hand, flipping it back and forth, but the illumination continued. “That brings new meaning to the term afterglow. What’s going on?”
He grinned. “You tell me.”
“I’m serious. Is anything different? Mentally, physically?”
“Well, yes. We did just have the best sex of my life.” But he tilted his head as if taking stock. “I’m a little tired, I suppose. Nothing seems off or hurts.” He gazed at her. “During, though, it was...cosmic. I’m not feeding you a line, either. There was this blast of energy and it heated me from the inside out. I actually sensed a connection between us that went beyond our bodies. Does that make sense?”
She nodded because he’d just described her experience, too. “That’s what it’s like for me when I practice magick. Only, it was like we both were creating it.” Worry niggled at the base of her neck. She hoped she hadn’t inadvertently cast a spell on him. He appeared fine. “You’re really okay? You don’t seem freaked out at all.”
“I’m beyond okay.” He gave her a quick kiss. “This doesn’t feel wrong, Kaida. During or after.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers toying with the ends. “You and me? We’re so very right together. Besides, you’d never do anything to hurt me.”
Before she could respond, he brought his mouth to hers and gave her a slow, languid kiss that had her toes curling and her pulse kicking up rhythm again.
Chapter Seventeen
Brady groaned and rolled over in bed to avoid the stream of sunlight smacking him in the face through the balcony doors. Smiling like an idiot at the rosemary scent clinging to his pillow and recalling the previous evening’s events, he reached for Kaida. Except the sheets were cool. Frowning, he pried his eyes open and found a folded piece of paper on her side of the mattress.
Stole one of your t-shirts. I’m downstairs.
She’d put a smiley face at the end of her note, which was entirely too adorable. And it didn’t make him grin. Much. He rose and relieved himself in the adjoining bathroom, then threw on a pair of sweats and his glasses to go in search of her.
Best damn night of his life. Would’ve been the best morning of his life if she were still in his bed.
The sound of muttering voices and the scent of coffee led him to the kitchen. He propped a shoulder against the frame, mostly out of sight, and grinned wider at finding Kaida on a stool by the island next to Riley, bare feet on the rungs. She had her hair up in a messy knot and, along with one of his tees, she also wore a pair of his boxers. Both were so big, they swam on her.
She paused with the mug halfway to her mouth. “He did not. Really?”
“Totally serious. He not only corrected the teacher on when the Revolutionary War ended, but Massachusetts’ succession, too. For thirty minutes.”
“And,” Tristan added from his spot by the sink, hip against the counter, “he didn’t even get in trouble for it. If Uncle Greg hates one thing more than you Galloways, it’s people who don’t get their facts straight. Brady was expecting to be grounded for life and got a pat on the head instead.”
Rubbing his jaw, Brady fought a laugh. Leave it to his brothers to relay his transgressions the first chance they’d gotten her alone. He wondered what else they’d told her while he’d slept in. But, damn. Her in his kitchen? Yakking it up with the two people he loved most? All adorably sleep-mussed and her voice husky? It did the most unimaginable things to his chest. Emotion filled him to capacity, to the point his throat restricted and his sinuses prickled.
He’d lived in this frigid fortress all his life, and this was the lone instance it had ever felt like a...home.
“Wow.” She chuckled. “Good for him. Le sigh. Brains are hot.”
Tristan laughed. Laughed. A rough, low sound Brady hadn’t heard in too long.
Which sealed the deal for him. If he hadn’t realized he’d fallen for her last night, this morning proved he’d smacked pavement with the impact of just how hard. Not only was she gorgeous and smart and kind, but anyone who could get Tristan to let go, even for a moment, would forever have Brady by the shorthairs.
“Hot, huh?” Riley wiggled his brows. “I’ll have to remember that.”
“Flirt.” An impish smile, and she playfully smacked his arm. “Well, boys. Thanks for the caffeine blast. I’m going to take off if I’m to get back here in presentable form for Easter. Do you want me to help with anything before I leave?”
Tristan shook his head. “We have a caterer delivering food. Nothing to do but set it out.”
“You should’ve said something. I could’ve cooked.”
“Negates the point of inviting you to lunch if you have to make it.” Riley winked at her. “With better planning, we could’ve had the staff whip up something, but we gave them off for the weekend.” He shared a somber look with Tristan. “It’s a rare day we do anything special for a holiday.”
“I’m glad you chose to start.” Her sad smile sliced through Brady’s ribcage. “Doesn’t matter what your upbringing is or how large the family. Being together is important.” She hopped off the stool and rinsed her cup at the sink.
Riley strode to the nook and snatched a sweatshirt off the bench seat. “Here, put this on. You’ll freeze wearing that.”
“Thanks.” She slid her arms in the sleeves and zipped it to her chin. “I’ll return it later. Let Brady know where I am, would you? Just so he doesn’t worry.”
Brady shoved off the frame to walk her home, but Tristan spoke up before he could make his presence known.
“Hold up. I don’t like the idea of you going by yourself.”
He could’ve kissed his brother for that alone.
“It’s just across the woods.” Her brows wrinkled in concern. “You don’t think your uncle would come back so soon, do you?”
“I don’t know what he’s capable of or what his plans are.” Tristan ran his fingers through his hair. “I’d feel better if one of us went along.”
“I’ll take the walk of shame with you.” Riley shoulder-bumped her and glanced at Tristan. “You can intercept the caterer and I’ll return when the sisters are ready. That work for you?”
Tristan nodded. “Be careful.” Once they were gone, he pointedly looked at Brady. “Is there a reason you didn’t offer her an escort or join the conversation?”
Busted. “Nope. Just enjoying the new dynamic.” He stepped into the room and leaned his forearms on the island. “It makes me happy you both get along with her so well.” And were willing to offer protection in Brady’s absence. It meant more to him than they’d ever know.
Shrugging, Tristan took a sip of coffee. “She’s an easy person to like.”
“I’m hopelessly in love with her.”
Tristan studied him a considerate beat, expression dialed to say-that-again, then turned to pour another coffee from the carafe. “You need Bailey’s in this or something stronger? Whiskey?” He set the cup in front of Brady. “I can bust out the bourbon.”
“No alcohol required. Loving her doesn’t frighten me.” He downed half the mug and rubbed his eyes, dislodging his glasses. He adjusted the frames before continuing. “It probably should have me freaked out, considering our history and the way we met. But, no. Not scared in the slightest.”
Up went Tristan’s brows as he eyed Brady over the rim of his cup. In a lazy move, he crossed one foot over the other. “What’s with the disturbed expression then? Not that I’d know from experience, but isn’t love supposed to make you joyful and crap?”
Brady sighed and traced his finger over a pattern on the granite countertop. “I don’t think she’s sticking around. She took a sabbatical from her teaching position to come here, meet her blood relatives, but she’s made no mention of staying.”
“Conversation doesn’t appear to be an issue between you two. Talk to her about it.”
“I don’t know how, or even if it’s my place.” He finished the last few swallows of coffee. “She has a life back in Iowa. Her condo, a steady job at the college. I knew from the beginning she
planned to return. She said as much. Who the hell am I to add conflict?”
“You’re the guy who loves her, that’s who.” Tristan’s lips flatlined. “Things have...evolved since she arrived. Does she know how you feel?”
Brady shook his head. “Haven’t dropped the L-bomb. It doesn’t seem fair to put more on her full plate. She still has so much to learn about her gifts and how to control them. Throw in curses and hunters, and it’s enough to make anyone’s head spin.”
“We’ve all had to adapt,” Tristan argued. “Her most of all. But she doesn’t strike me as a woman incapable of handling herself. From what I’ve seen, she’s taken every blow with her chin up and a side of grace. I don’t think you’re giving her or yourself enough credit.”
True. Hard to argue with that logic. Still, Brady had entered new territory here, and the circumstances were so far out of normal, he and Kaida may as well have landed on Neptune.
“What I find most interesting is what you haven’t said.” Tristan put his cup aside. “A condo and a job were your words. That’s what she’d be going back to. Nowhere did you mention friends or family. She has both right here, and I suspect it may be the first time in her life that’s the case. Perhaps, little brother, she’s looking for a reason to take the leap.”
Brady dropped his head in his hands. “First, I’m exactly seven minutes younger than you. Second, when did you turn into an all-wise version of Confucius? And third, shut up.”
“Sucks to be wrong, doesn’t it?” Tristan rinsed his mug and switched off the coffee maker. “It was bound to happen eventually. At least it occurred in my lifetime.” He patted Brady’s shoulder as he walked by on the way out. “Caterer’s coming in an hour and the sisters will be here in two. I suggest maybe getting dressed.”
“Hardy, har-har.”
But Tristan had already vacated the room, leaving Brady to stew. And think. And freak out a little bit. Or a lot.
No, the concept of loving her didn’t have him flipping his gourd or inflicting the urge to run in the opposite direction. He was beginning to realize he’d loved her all along and only now had caught on to the fact. But yes, the circumstances were enough to have one foot planted firmly in oh-shit-ville. Because, damn...
