“You do nae say,” mocked Korey. “Hey, cousin, did you know we were nae human?”
“Had an inclination somewhere around six-hundred and seventy-five years ago. Give or take a bit.” Coyle’s jaw set. The more he thought about his Deri being touched by this man’s dark magik, the more he wanted to obliterate him.
The man took yet another step back, nearing the edge of the cliff. “Wait. If you’re that old then you’re part of the High Council.”
Korey rolled his head and blew out a long breath, the rain pelting him in the face. “This one here is a genius. Bet he wins at Dark Sorcerer Trivia all the time.”
Coyle narrowed his gaze on the man. “Who are you?”
“C-Chad Minston,” the man stammered, but stiffened and said, “I came for what is rightfully mine.”
Korey turned to Coyle. “I recognize that name. Came across our desk several years back. He wanted to force a claiming.”
Coyle’s lips curled. Forcing a claiming was frowned upon by nearly all the magikal community anymore. Centuries ago it had been acceptable, but no more. “Aye, he’s ringin’ a bell now. We told you no. Did you nae get the giant memo tellin’ you that you were a sicko and to leave the woman you sought alone?”
Korey touched Coyle. “Is it me or did the woman he wanted to force a claim to have some sort of magikal mishap and the PBI stepped in?”
“Aye. I believe so. Never caught her name though,” said Coyle, looking to Chad. “Are you here to exact yer revenge on us for darin’ to tell you no? Yer a bit late, and really, you brought an orb to a magik fight?”
The fool threw the orb at Coyle and Korey. Coyle actually laughed as he lifted a hand, deflecting the power back at the man. Chad threw another and another. The O’Caha men simply tossed them back as if were a game of hot potato, not orbs charged with enough power to kill a lesser magik.
“I’m bored,” said Korey.
“Aye. Me too.”
“Shall we end this?” asked his cousin as the man threw yet another orb.
Nodding, Coyle stepped forward and this time he caught the orb, held it a moment and then lined up, throwing it hard at the other man. It hit Chad, knocking him backwards more, and before Coyle could utter a word, the man’s footing went out from under him and he plummeted over the edge of the cliff.
Korey laughed. “Well, that made that easy. I really hate the revenge seekers. The paperwork they cause is a nightmare.”
Coyle nodded. “I wanted to make him burst into flames.”
Korey pointed to the cliff. “Yer powerful enough. See if you can spot his body and go for it. That would cut our clean-up time totally out of the picture.”
“Aye.”
Coyle and Korey neared the cliff and peered over. No body was in sight. The ocean was angry and Coyle suspected Mother Nature was pissed the man had called upon dark powers. He looked to his cousin. “Seems the goddess handled him.”
“Would seem so,” said Korey. “Shall we check on yer woman?”
Coyle twisted, confusion knitting his brow as he was finally thinking clearly again. “My woman?”
Korey pursed his lips. “Try to tell me she’s nae yer woman. I’ll call you a liar and throw yer sorry arse over the bar for annoying me.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m not into doin’ family members,” returned Korey with a grin. He wiped rain from his face. “Now. Yer woman.”
“She’s nae my woman,” Coyle responded, but as the words fell free of him, his gut clenched. She was his and he’d kill anyone who harmed her. He gasped.
Korey chuckled. “Have an epiphany?”
“Kiss my arse.”
“Again, not into incest,” returned Korey, turning to head into the workshop entrance again. “Deri is up in yer bed. She’ll be fine with some sleep and protective wards placed over her. I think her man should handle the honors. Don’t you?”
Chapter Seven
Groggy, Deri came awake slowly, unsure of where she was at first. As she looked around the spacious bedroom and noticed the ornate carvings in all the wood in the room, she smiled.
She was safe.
She was with Coyle.
He appeared in the doorway to the room as if sensing her waking. His long dark hair was down and looked freshly washed. He was minus a shirt, which she had already learned was how he felt most comfortable. He smiled but it was tight-lipped. “Yer awake. Guid. We were worried.”
“Och, he was worried,” said Korey, pushing past Coyle with a tray of what appeared to be soup and biscuits. “I knew you’d be just fine.”
She stared up at him and touched her temple. “What happened?”
“You dinnae eat enough,” said Korey, glancing at Coyle as if waiting to be contradicted.
Deri sat up more as Korey put the tray of food across her lap. The soup smelled delicious. “Tell me you made this, not Coyle.”
Tipping his head back, Korey laughed. “Och, lass, his cookin’ is nae that— Never mind, his cooking is horrid.”
Coyle grinned and eased closer to her. “Eat.”
She couldn’t even think of eating, not after the dream she’d just had. It involved her and Coyle and some naughty bedroom play. She blushed thinking about it and Korey’s eyes widened as he stepped back.
“On that expression, I’ll see myself out,” he said, leaving.
Coyle sat on the edge of the bed and lifted the spoon. He put a spoonful of soup near her mouth. “Eat more.”
Shaking her head, she touched her stomach. “Can’t.”
“Deri,” he warned, his hand brushing her lower lip. “Eat.”
Fire shot through her as she took a spoonful from him. His gaze locked on hers. “Did you sleep well?”
She blushed more and had to look away. Her gaze flickered back to his bare torso. Deri chewed on her lower lip as she stared at Coyle’s body. The man needed to learn to wear a shirt or she needed to pray to be immune from his natural charms. Either would work. Currently, she spent more time watching him from afar than she did doing anything else. It was pathetic, but she did it all the same.
The corners of his mouth twitched, and for a moment it looked as though he was trying not to laugh. “So, you say you slept well then? Nothing kept you up or hindered yer ability to get a guid rest?”
As his grey gaze raked over her, Deri shivered. Goose bumps formed on her skin and Coyle began to rub her upper arms and shoulders lightly. She silently cursed herself for wearing the white, ruffle-trimmed camisole. She had a pink wrap blouse downstairs in the office, but as the storms had moved in, causing the humidity to rise and most of the patrons to clear out for the night in order to avoid driving in bad weather, she had taken it off. Now, she was left with next to nothing between her and Coyle’s touch. Her nipples hardened to pebble-like points, and although Coyle made her heart race, she could do nothing more than lie there, allowing his touch.
“Yer ice-cold, lass. Something a matter?” The teasing tone in Coyle’s voice told her he knew damn well what the problem was. The arrogant jerk. She had half a mind to cast a spell to make him bark like a dog for a week, but held back. No sense alerting the PBI after all this time.
He set the tray of soup aside. Coyle’s smirk grew, as did his boldness. He moved onto the bed, easing over her, pressing his body to hers, forcing her back as he moved up and over her. The feel of his clothed erection against her stomach made her gulp. That would never fit in her. She needed to stop dreaming about it. About him. The man would break her in two.
He chuckled as if he could read her thoughts and hear her fear of being impaled by his massive cock. She wanted to smack his hand away, but the thought of losing contact with him made her gut clench.
The wind whipped against the bedroom window that was only a few feet from them, causing it to shake fast and furiously. In a heartbeat, Deri was wrapped around Coyle, clinging to him. A soft chuckle came from him as he stroked her highly sensitive skin. He drew lazy circles on the small of her back and ea
ch caress brought a whimper closer to the surface. Still, she stuck to him.
“Och, it’s only the wind. You do nae need to be scared, Deri. I’ve got you.” His accent thickened dramatically and Deri would have commented if she didn’t so like the feeling of safety Coyle provided.
“Is it me or is it cold in here?” she asked.
“Baltic,” he murmured, as he rubbed her bare arms vigorously with his warm, callused hands. She shivered. Her nipples scraped against his chest, making her moan and Coyle stiffen.
He slid his hands around and brushed his thumbs over her hardened peaks. Deri could fight no longer. Her tongue darted out and over her bottom lip as her breathing grew ragged. Remembering he was a ladies man, and while she had at some point fallen for him, she didn’t have it in her to get her heart broken. Besides, she had to keep some sort of emotional distance from him, especially if she had to run because of Chad—Deri tried to block the feeling of being touched by him. She failed miserably. The slight play of his hands was so quick she wasn’t sure if it had been on purpose or an accidental brush. Regardless, her pussy was now soaked as need cramped her gut.
Fuck me was on the tip of her tongue. She was afraid the plea would actually fall from her lips. She wanted him that bad.
Only Coyle made her body react this way and it seemed to be getting worse as time went on. What had started off as mere curiosity on her part now bordered on obsession. He consumed her waking thoughts and seemed to invade her every dream. It had to end soon.
Why was she drawn to this moody millionaire who still insisted on running his own small pub on the seaside?
Sure, his devilishly handsome good looks had something to do with it. How could they not? The man’s black tousled hair hung just past his ears and it looked as untamable as the rest of him. The seemingly endless tribal tattoos adorning his body added a whole new layer to Coyle’s mystique. Setting aside his money, he was pure perfection. He also had the ability to not only make her feel safe, which was rare, but to make her laugh as well.
You and every other babe out there.
Women flocked to him. It was sickening. They arrived at the pub in groups of four or more, retreating to the back with Coyle until the wee hours of the morning. Deri refused to be one more in his endless stream of women. She was not a Coyle groupie, nor would she ever be one.
Okay, maybe not outwardly, but inwardly I’m a classic groupie.
Disgusted by her lack of willpower, Deri steeled herself to his touch, hoping it would make her immune to whatever it was he possessed. It didn’t. It did, however, make her painfully aware of how close she was to being one of his groupies.
I will not throw myself at this man’s feet.
Jerking out from under him, Deri moved off the bed and stood, shaking her head, sending tendrils of red hair scattering about as her clip gave way. Coyle moved off the bed with her, grabbing her. Her hair seemed to engulf Coyle’s large hands as it fell to the tips of her erect nipples, teasing them and driving her closer to the brink of begging him to fuck her.
“That is it, lass, tell me what you want from me,” he said, sounding so sure of himself. “You know you want me too.”
Before she could stop herself, Deri had her middle finger in the air—flipping Coyle off in a very unladylike gesture. Coyle nipped playfully at it. “Promises, promises, Deri. If it’s rutting yer after, you’ve only but to ask. I’ll nae deny you.” He ran a hand over his bulging erection and arched a brow. “I wouldnae suggest being fool enough to tempt me again or you might find yerself spread out before me like an offering. And, lass,” he added in a low voice, “I’ll do more than take you up on it. I’ll consume you.”
Her jaw dropped. Coyle captured her middle finger with his mouth and sucked gently, sending sparks of pleasure through her body. Instantly, her inner thighs tightened and her pussy flooded with cream. She gasped. He chuckled as he worked his tongue out and over her finger with a skill she could easily imagine him utilizing to bring her oral pleasure.
Coming to her senses, she yanked her finger from Coyle’s mouth. “I’m taking my soup to go. I’ll eat it down in the bar.”
“Stay and I’ll eat you,” he said, shocking her more.
She squared her shoulders. “Coyle, I don’t know where this is coming from, but I’m not one of the groupies you have streaming through here. I’m a lady. Respect that.”
He paused and then took a step back. “By Daga, woman, do you nae see I’ve nothing but respect for you?”
With a huff, she turned and stomped away, unaffected by the crashing thunder. “Funny way of showing it.”
Chapter Eight
Coyle watched as she sashayed out of his bedroom, a place he’d longed for her to be for years. The woman made his dick hard by simply being in the same room. Seeing her ass in those form-fitting jeans was too much. Already he’d come close to tossing her on the bar and burying his cock in her. The idea of spreading her creamy ass cheeks wide and sinking into her anus made his entire body light with desire.
She’s right. She’s a lady and I’m trying to treat her like she charges by the fucking hour.
He’d lost control of himself when Korey had sensed dark magik on her. And when she’d slept, he’d purposely invaded her dreams to check on her, instead seducing her in them.
He’d needed a cold shower to calm down from just how erotic the dreams had gotten. For three long years he’d hidden his feelings for the mortal with a temper that rivaled his grandmother’s. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her how he felt mainly because she’d kept him at a distance after hearing Korey talk about his famed conquests. Coyle couldn’t blame Deri. She had every right to keep him squarely in the friend zone.
But tonight that had seemed to change. She’d let him close. Let him toy with her, tease her, even tempt her. He’d been so swept up in it all that he’d not realized he was in fact being a pig.
Dammit.
She’d thrown the other women in his face when in reality they weren’t what she thought them to be. They weren’t conquests. They were fledgling witches he instructed after hours—and no sex was involved. It was all simply magik-based. He didn’t get off with them. He didn’t even find any of them attractive. Truth be told, he hadn’t found any woman but Deri attractive since she’d walked into his pub three years prior.
That was a hell of a long time to go without sex—something his magik required to be at full strength. He needed release, and soon. The woman made him insane. Made his body burn.
Adjusting his aching erection, Coyle did his best to calm himself. The woman would be the death of him. Never had he longed to bed a woman like he longed to bed Deri. She had worked her way under his defenses and become an addiction when he wasn’t looking. The sad thing was he had no plans to kick the habit.
No.
Fucking the habit sounded so much better.
The dreams he’d started having within a month of her arrival hadn’t stopped. They’d only intensified. They sated him as best they could. At first, the dreams were random, caused by outside forces, but after a time, Coyle began to purposely invade Deri’s dreams. The need to be with her, even if in the dream realm, was just too difficult to pass up and he was too horny to resist. He may have been an immortal sorcerer with almost unlimited power, but in the end he was still a man.
A man who was infatuated with a woman that his dick and his heart seemed to think was his chosen even though that was impossible. He’d searched through his old books, looking for a way to make her immortal and supernatural, as he was. He found none. Until tonight, she’d shown no real interest in him.
Glancing in the mirror, Coyle tried to view himself objectively. Other mortal women found him attractive and had no qualms in telling him as much. They raved about the size of his cock, the shape of his body, the color of his eyes and hair, his skills as a lover, yet none of that mattered. The only woman he wanted to hear sing his praises was the vixen with the temperament of a caged wolverine. She seemed to
find him more of a nuisance than a necessity. Deri certainly marched to her own beat and that only served to make him hotter for her.
Chapter Nine
Deep breaths.
Deri stormed through the bar, too upset to bother stopping. She’d forgotten the damn soup anyways. She entered Coyle’s workshop and spun around, her hands finding her hips, her anger on the surface though she wasn’t sure why. She wanted the man. He showed signs of wanting her, yet she’d yelled at him.
To protect him, she reminded herself.
Chad.
Her magik began to build at an unsafe rate. If she didn’t burn it off soon, something bad would happen. Turning, she lifted her hands and aimed at a pile of scrap wood in the back corner of the workshop. She could only hope the PBI wouldn’t sense it and come running.
Cool energy pulsed through her fingertips and she let out a long breath, allowing her magik to go in the direction of the wood scraps. They lifted off the floor of the workshop and floated, almost dancelike, in midair, moving to a beat only she heard in her head.
She had so much built-up energy that she didn’t notice she wasn’t alone in the room until she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning, she gasped as she spotted Korey standing there, his mouth agape, his eyes wide. He blinked several times and then pointed at her, resembling a child rather than a full-grown man.
“You! Yer-yer… not normal!”
Deri’s magik dropped, as did the wood scraps, causing a huge ruckus. The shop door swung open wide and Coyle barged in, looking around wildly. “What the bloody hell is going on in here?”
Deri stared at Korey, frozen in fear, waiting for him to tell Coyle what he’d seen. Korey swallowed hard and then faced his cousin. “I dropped something, what of it?”
Coyle groaned and rolled his eyes. “What are you doing in here? I thought you were leaving to pick Gigi up from her trip.”
“Made it out to the parking lot and got a voicemail from her. She’s nae coming back this week. Decided to stay another week in Pennsylvania. Don’t know why anyone would want to vacation there.” Korey glanced Deri’s way and winked.
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