Sassy Ever After: Kissing Sassy (Kindle Worlds Novella)

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Sassy Ever After: Kissing Sassy (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 8

by Gracen Miller


  “Sure. I can be as sensible as the next girl.” She winked at him.

  Sensible? He chuckled. She was a brassy and sassy superstar, but sensible wasn’t a word he’d use to describe her. Not that he’d change a thing about her.

  “I’ll get the rest of the groceries after I secure the house.” He stepped in front of her as they neared the door. A burst of magic bulleted through him, and the door creaked open. More used uselessly. They’d have to discuss her misuse of power.

  While Olivia hung out in the kitchen unloading the bags of groceries she’d brought in, he prowled about the house until he verified it was just the two of them. Once his animal was satisfied, he collected the rest of the groceries, along with their luggage. He helped her put away the food, asking where stuff went from time to time.

  “I looked at this place when it went on the market.” He anchored his elbows on the island and stared at her. “I make a comfortable living, but I couldn’t afford it, and Campbell wouldn’t break it into more affordable parcels.”

  “Me casa, your casa.”

  He chuckled at the way she butchered the saying. “It’s mi casa es tu casa.”

  “Yeah… I suck at languages. I mostly just know a little of this and a little of that. But make yourself at home, even when I’m gone.”

  The gone part of her offer made his wolf howl at the possible loss of her. Thankfully, she didn’t have dialogue with his animal. “Why buy the place if you didn’t plan to live here?”

  “To spend time with the Wolfes without wearing out my welcome. Every year they come to Montana, and they invite me to visit them, but I know it’s not an open-ended invite.”

  Aunt Barbara wouldn’t balk at her spending a month or longer with them. She loved those she adopted and enjoyed entertaining, but when one lived the life Olivia had, he guessed it was hard to accept that people liked having her around.

  “I was going to grab a small home in town, a fixer-upper, something inconspicuous, but my realtor talked me into just ‘looking’. It was love at first sight. Mr. Campbell talked to his maid, and she agreed to stay on and keep the place up. I’d already planned to come in next month after the movie release, when my obligations settled down, but then all this shit with Jessie went down.”

  “Jessie won’t be a problem any longer. It’s a matter of time before we get him. You’ve my word on that.”

  “Okay.”

  “How big of a problem are your people?”

  “I’ve avoided them for thirty years. I’m on the downward slide anyway so another ten years max before…” Catching his eyes, she trailed off. Cajun had no idea what she saw on his face, but probably a little of the turmoil that topic made him feel. She blinked and looked away. “Just saying, they’re more of a nuisance, than any real threat.”

  “Unless they figure out your identity.”

  She trailed her finger along the island’s granite top. “I don’t reveal that to anyone.”

  “Not even me?” Her gaze sliced across him, and he could feel her nervousness all over again. The same as when they’d been in his home talking about her real appearance. Cajun didn’t wait for an answer, just fingered his sketchpad and dragged it across the counter as he stepped around the bar to stand in front of her. He turned the notebook around and flipped it open to the first page. “The tattoo I designed you. Want any changes, let me know what they are. And absolutely no pressure to get it.”

  “It’s gorgeous.” She traced the design with her fingertips, wonderment widening her eyes. “More accurate than I anticipated.”

  Not sure what was accurate about the sketch, he asked, “When do you return to Hollywood?”

  “I have an interview with Matt DeLore next week.”

  His wolf bayed in protest, and he attempted to remind his animal they couldn’t expect her to give up her life for them. It didn’t mean they’d never see her again, just that she had obligations that didn’t involve them. “Was that what you were talking about earlier on the phone?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her gaze kept returning to the tattoo, as if a magnetized force wouldn’t allow her to look away for long. He wanted to ask where he fit into her life, but they’d known each other all of a few days. While he trusted the mating heat, he could tell she was wary of the siren song she’d spoken of.

  “I don’t want her eyes this color.”

  “Okay.” Struggling at the shift in topic, he was momentarily confused until she tapped the sketchpad, drawing his focus to the design; a chestnut haired woman, with golden highlights. Eyes so pale blue they almost seemed white, but were rimmed in a dark sapphire blue. She was voluptuous like a pin-up, and down the center of her chest between her heavy breasts were a set of four symbols he’d meant to look up, but in all the chaos had forgotten. He’d draped her figure in robes, from her head to her feet, showing a little flesh of one hip, and her belly. Arm extended as if she offered something to another, a crackling blue-white ball of energy rested in her palm. He’d started another design, but then the vision of this beauty flashed through his mind. This sorceress was badass, and after he drew her, he was so proud of her. It was probably his best work, definitely his most real-life sketch to-date, and he’d known she belonged to Olivia. “That’s an easy change.”

  Olivia stepped into his space, burying her face in the center of his chest, shocking him because he knew touch was foreign to her. No hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her between his thighs, as he leaned his ass against the island. Time stood still as he hyper-focused on her. The way her breath warmed his skin through his shirt. His heartbeat synced with hers, and so did the cadence of their breathing.

  He kissed the top of her head, but even the vanilla-orange scent of her shampoo couldn’t hide the fragrance of her. With her smell in his database, he’d be able to track her for the rest of her life.

  Beneath the soft pillows of her breasts snuggled against his hard torso, he could feel her nipples tightening into hard beads. And her tender belly pressed against his cock, which had gone from soft to titanium hard in a millisecond.

  Everything about her felt good and smelled divine, and he wanted to devour her. She rubbed her cheek against him as she fisted her hands at the hem of his shirt, his breath stuttering when her knuckles bumped again his abs.

  “How’d you know to draw her?” Olivia rubbed her other cheek against him, as if she marked herself with his scent.

  It was a move a shifter would execute, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. “I saw her in my head. We can change anything you want. And if you’re worried about what others will think, you know you can have anything you want and just glamour it away like you do the real you.”

  She inhaled deeply, released the breath. “That is me, Theodore.”

  Huh? Before he could ask for confirmation of what he thought she meant, her glamour dropped, and he stared at the woman he’d drawn.

  Dumbfounded, he couldn’t string together a single sentence at first. He’d felt guilty for thinking the tattoo he drew was his fantasy woman, and all the while it’d been the genuine reflection of his mate.

  “You’re the only person alive to see the real me. I’ll never go outside our home in this form.”

  ‘Our home.’ His brain snagged on those two words.

  “What are you smiling about?”

  “You said ‘our home’. Yeah, I know it was a slip of the tongue, but it’s enough that you’re not outright refusing our mating or your siren song.”

  THIRTEEN

  Olivia

  No way she could deny Cajun’s standing in her life. Siren song was aptly named because she could feel the call to him, attraction so robust she had to make conscious effort not to touch him whenever around him. Had to constantly remind herself touch was a privilege couples shared, especially mated shifters, not strangers, no matter how strong the urge was.

  She’d done the right thing remaining as aloof as possible toward him, not giving an inch, shunning any of his ad
vances, until tonight when he kissed her and she allowed him between her legs. And to see that he’d drawn her, the real her and not some random sorceress, all without having ever seen her, well that affected her profoundly. Moved her more than she could’ve imagined possible. It also showed just how solid their connection was. Couldn’t forget her mom’s diary recommended she not turn her siren song away. Even said they made a sorceress stronger.

  His fingers sifted through her hair, holding the long strands out to the side as if mesmerized by the way her hair transitioned from brown to blonde. Olivia slid one hand up his chest to curl around his neck and thread into the tiny hairs on his nape. His gaze snapped to hers, but lowered a moment later when he curled his knuckles beneath her chin and ran his thumb along her bottom lip.

  “Why were you worried about me seeing the real you?”

  She frowned. “I wasn’t. Like I said, I can be whatever you want me to look like.”

  “This. Only ever this in private.” Cajun’s hand left her chin and buried into her hair. “Then why the nervousness? Don’t say you weren’t nervous. I could smell it.”

  “I’m trusting you with the truth. If the Gathering learns what I really look like, I’m dead if I can’t outrun them.”

  Hurt flashed across his handsome face, and he emitted a guttural growl. “You think I’d betray you?”

  “No. But old habits die hard.”

  “I get that.” He lifted her onto the counter and settled between her thighs. A hand at the small of her back pulled her snug against his belly. His other palm clasped her nape and tugged her down to his mouth.

  It was a kiss to end all resistance as his tongue lapped and coiled against hers. At the moment, resisting was the last thing on her mind. Tired of shoving her desires aside, she gave in to her yearning for him. Beneath the desire was a stronger physical need, a craving to be closer to him, to belong to someone, to love someone and be loved, and to connect with him on the cosmic level they’d been destined for. And she knew if she denied the siren song, she’d lose herself to insanity.

  Breaking away from her mouth, Cajun executed a lovely lick-nip combo along her neck that made her wetter. Olivia buried her hands in his hair and jerked his head back, smashing her lips over his. A rumble rolled from his chest right before he cupped her ass and lifted her from the island. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he squeezed her cheeks as he put her back against the wall. With his gaze laser-locked on hers, his grip on her ass tightened, and he ground his cock against her pussy. One of them whimpered, and her eyes widened at the amazing sensation.

  “Let go, Olivia, and embrace our connection. The sex will be better for it,” he said against her mouth.

  Was she holding back? Yeah, she was, she realized when she recognized the block she kept up to protect herself.

  She released her chains on the block, and static crackled between them, nipping at their lips. A shocked gasp fell from her, while a satisfied grin coiled the edges of his lips.

  “That’s my girl.”

  Olivia got lost in his kisses again, rocking her hips against him so they moved together. The atmosphere around them altered, growing thick with… she didn’t know what, but she liked it and reveled in the ambience.

  Only we can create this magic because we’re fated for one another.

  What would happen when she came? Would the vortex they were caught up in explode? Change them? She was close, so very close to coming from just riding him through his clothes.

  “Stop.” He panted, his breath striking her mouth as his fingers dug into her hips, immobilizing her. “I’m not coming in my goddamn jeans.”

  Groaning her frustration, she dropped her forehead against his shoulder. She preferred being naked too, but geez she’d been on the edge and about to go over when he’d pressed pause.

  “You were pouring something into me.” Cajun might’ve stopped grinding against her, but he hadn’t stopped moving. Not totally. Instead, he rotated his cock against her pussy, giving her just enough friction to keep her lust amped up. “I liked it, catin, even if it did feel as if a tornado whirled about us.”

  As she mused over those words, she realized that’d been what she’d been feeling too. Olivia turned her face into his neck and gave his skin a sharp bite. “You told me to let go. I think I was giving you the siren song.”

  Without any warning, they were moving, and she tightened her grip on him as he climbed the stairs. A few seconds later, he dropped her on the bed and leaned over her with both hands braced on the mattress on either side of her head, with his face inches from hers. “I liked it, but I want you to want to give it to me.”

  “I was drenching you from the inside out, marking you as mine, binding our souls.” She hadn’t focused as much on the siren song in the Chronicles of Life as she should’ve because she’d never planned to meet hers, but now that she recalled tidbits of information, he needed to know what was in store for him. “Accepting the siren song means your life is connected with mine. When I die, you die, and vice versa. Others would also be able to smell it on you and know you’re mated, for lack of a better term.”

  His eyes glowed with the last admission, but he said nothing. Worried he was pissed she’d went about giving him the siren song without his permission, she said, “Sorry. I was acting on instinct, not thinking clearly. Promise it won’t happen again.”

  “Let it happen. I don’t care. I’m yours and nothing without you.”

  She gaped at him. “You don’t know me enough to make that big of a commitment.”

  He shrugged. “You’re my mate, that’s all I need to know.”

  Frustrated that he allowed fate to guide him, when he should be making clearheaded choices, she shoved at his chest to get him off her.

  Like a boulder, Cajun didn’t budge. He caught her wrists and pinned them on the mattress. “I’m going to fuck you, Olivia.”

  About time!

  “Once you come on my cock, I’ll flip you to your belly, and fuck you doggy style.” Anticipation shivered down her spine and settled between her legs. “I’ll bite you, mark you, but it’ll be temporary and will fade.” She ogled his mouth, curious what the bite would feel like and if his canines would lengthen. “I won’t be mating you, I’ll save that for when you’re wholly committed to us. The bite will be visible but faint, and it’ll let other shifters know to fuck off, you’re mine, and we’re in the mating dance. Any objections?”

  “No.” She bucked her hips, rocking the curve of her pussy against his length, loving the way his eyes darkened upon contact. “So it’s kind of like a trial run of the mating process?”

  “Yes.” He kissed her again and then pushed off the bed. “Undress, catin, because if I undress you, I’ll shred your clothes.”

  FOURTEEN

  Cajun

  Staring at Olivia sprawled on the bed, Cajun’s cock pulsed in his jeans. He liked the way she looked, cheeks flushed, and legs spread from where he’d just pressed his hips between them.

  She’d tried to give him her version of a mating. Magic woven through him to seal their union, a bond not totally unlike a wolf mating. Often when a wolf’s mate died, the other mate died soon afterward. They grieved too hard for their lost love and lost the will to live. That he’d die with her seemed like a mercy killing to him.

  She gave me some of her siren song. He couldn’t help but glory in that knowledge. Didn’t matter that she’d done it without conscious effort, but what mattered was that she’d innately recognized him as hers. Cajun wasn’t all animal though. He wouldn’t take what she offered without her wanting to be bound to him.

  Reaching over his head, he fisted his shirt and dragged the material up and off.

  “Your turn,” he said when she remained unmoving on the mattress gaping at him. The shine in her pale eyes let him know she liked what she saw.

  Christ, her new look was like an impact to his gut. Yeah, she’d been gorgeous before, but the real her was stunning, and fragile too because s
he feared sharing it with anyone but him.

  Pride swelled in his heart because giving him this peek into her authentic world was a gift. One he would never abuse, and would protect at the cost of his life. He meant it when he said he was nothing without her. Even if she rejected their mating, he’d never be the same again because of her.

  Olivia sat up and chucked her shirt, revealing a lacy red bra that had him salivating with the way her nipples peek-a-booed through the delicate fabric. It matched the red thong he’d torn off her earlier. Only in movies had he ever seen undergarments match. He hadn’t been prepared for the visual her tits presented through the lace, like sex gift-wrapping.

  But as he took her in, he noted the four puckered designs branded into her skin. They ran in a vertical line between her breasts. “What are the brands?”

  “The four elements.”

  “Why’d you brand yourself with them?” That had to hurt.

  “I didn’t. I was born with them. They also mark me as a Key along with my eyes. Stop stalling and finish undressing, Benji.”

  As he unsnapped his denims, she scooted to the edge of the bed and quickly discarded her pants.

  Kicking his jeans aside, he halted disrobing when her arms went behind her back, thrusting her breasts forward. A moment later, her arms lowered, and her bra fell away, baring heavy breasts with dusty areoles and nipples so tight they were crinkled.

  “No,” she said slinking toward him as he went to remove his boxer briefs. “Let me.”

  Olivia stopped in front of him and held his gaze, her fingers sliding across his flesh where his underwear and belly met. She leaned in and licked one of his flat nipples, grazing her teeth along the tip. Cajun reacted, shoving his hands in her hair and tilting her head back to fuck her mouth.

  Her palms dove beneath the elastic and curved over his buttocks. She rubbed her breasts against his chest, and he felt her nipples tighten even more against his skin. That was his undoing. He had to taste those beads soon.

 

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