Impassion

by B. C. Burgess

  “Mmm...” he murmured, slipping his fingers beneath plunging silk.

  She turned her face into his neck, yearning for his hand to move beyond her breasts, to the warmth spreading across her inner thighs. “You drive me crazy, Quin.”

  “It goes both ways, Layla.”

  “Good. Otherwise it would be completely unfair.”

  He gave the objects of his caress a final squeeze. Then he returned his fingers to her hair. “I’m getting spoiled to waking up with you. I hope you know I have no intention of going back to my old routine.”

  “I don’t want you to.”

  “I’ll have to make sure it stays that way by spoiling you back.”

  “You already do.”

  “We’ll see,” he countered, holding out a hand, and an oversized mug of coffee appeared. He carefully passed it over. Then he watched her sip while summoning his own.

  “You didn’t have to bother Cinnia,” she insisted. “I like your coffee, too.”

  “Cinnia was glad to oblige. Besides, I have to spoil you.”

  “Well thank you. The coffee’s wonderful, but I enjoy the company more.”

  “Now that’s a compliment,” he approved. “I’m extremely honored to be valued above your coffee addiction.”

  She laughed, careful not to spill. Then she found his eyes. “I’ve come to realize there are things not even coffee can compare to. You, for instance, are tastier than even the finest brew.”

  He leaned in and licked her bottom lip. “I’ll do my best not to leave a bitter taste in your mouth.”

  “I don’t see how you could as long as you keep supplying me.”

  “Mmm... I like the idea of being your drug of choice, and I’ll gladly save my product just for you.” He kissed her forehead then leaned back, letting her drink her coffee without interruptions.

  They were almost done when he whispered into her curls. “Are you going to let me stay home with you today?”

  “No,” she firmly answered.

  “I don’t want to go, Layla. I don’t feel right about leaving you.”

  “Would you feel the same if things weren’t so messed up?”

  “Yes, but not to this degree.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “We have no idea how long this is going to last, and I don’t want you putting your life on hold while we wait for it to end. I’ll be here when you get home. Besides, I told Bri and Sky I would hang out with them this morning.”

  “Oh yeah? What are you guys going to do?”

  “They wanted to get me out of the community, but after last night, I doubt that’s an option, so we’ll probably just hang out here.”

  “Good. I’ll feel better about leaving knowing you’re here instead of out there.”

  “I’m glad I could make you feel better,” she replied, and she was. It made her feel better, too.

  She took her last sip of coffee. Then her cup vanished as Quin pulled her onto his lap.

  “How about a compromise?” he proposed, lowering his mouth to her cleavage.

  “Compromise?” she murmured, her lungs and heart hiccupping.

  He buried his face in her breasts and mumbled into hot flesh. “I’ll go to work, but only for half a day. I’ll come home around two.”

  She slipped her fingers into his hair and arched. “Will you do this when you get home?”

  “If you’ll let me, I’ll do this every night for the rest of my life.”

  “Mmm...” she purred. “I just might take you up on that.”

  “I’ll keep hope in my heart, and it will be the only thing that gets me through my work day while maintaining my sanity.” After a long moment in heaven, he pulled away and shook his head. “I better go now or you’ll have to force me to leave.”

  Layla hoped he didn’t test that theory, because she’d never be able to make him go. “Okay. Thank you for the coffee, and thank you even more for the company.”

  “Those things don’t require a thank you, but you’re welcome anyway.” He gave her a deep kiss. Then he laid her on the bed and leaned close. “Please be careful today. If Serafin and Daleen tell you to do something, don’t hesitate, just do it.”

  “I’ll be fine, Quin. Try not to worry so much.”

  “Impossible. I’ll worry until you’re out of danger.”

  “I guess.”

  “Have fun with Sky and Bri. You’ll get along great, but I should warn you, they’re ornery and have no regard for bashfulness.”

  Layla laughed as she slid her thumbs to his dimples. “It’ll be fun.”

  He kissed her again, then again. He couldn’t stay away. Finally, after the fifth kiss, he groaned and got out of bed. “A parting gift,” he said, pointing at the table, and a fresh cup of coffee appeared beside an iced cinnamon roll. “See you soon, angel.”

  She smiled at her gifts. Then she rolled onto her side and pulled his pillow into a hug. “I’ll miss you.”

  “You have no idea,” he whispered, his smile strained as he scanned her from head to toe. Then he turned and flew from the room.

  Layla buried her face in his pillow, reliving his kisses as she breathed him in. Then she forced herself back to reality and out of bed.

  She grabbed her cinnamon roll then searched for her cell phone. She hadn’t talked to Travis or Phyllis the previous day, and while she had a million other things to worry about, her neglect to maintain daily contact with her hometown friends plagued her with unease. This was particularly true with Travis. He was going through a hard time and needed to know his friends cared. There were missed calls from both of them and the unease flared.

  She called Travis first and was pleased to hear he was steadily recovering from his grief, but when he mentioned a visit to Oregon, her stomach flipped. How would she ever explain her situation or come up with a good excuse to keep him away? For the time being, she told him a visit sounded nice, but she was still getting to know her family and wanted more time before hosting company. Thankfully, Travis agreed, saying it would be a few weeks before he could get out of Oklahoma anyway, but he was itching to do it.

  After hanging up with Travis, Layla called Phyllis, who spent the short conversation telling her the diner’s insurance company had approved its reconstruction despite the inconclusive cause of the fire.

  The thought of repairing what the Unforgivables destroyed brought a tinge of hope to Layla’s soul, so she was in a decent mood when she got off the phone and took a shower.

  Since Quin wouldn’t be around to warm her up, she dressed in a long-sleeved dress made of thick emerald velvet. Then she magically heated her coffee as she walked outside.

  She somehow managed perfect timing—stepping onto the porch as Brietta left Caitrin and Morrigan’s—so she got her cousin’s attention as she floated down the stairs. They met halfway, stopping in Cinnia’s overflowing garden.

  “Hey,” Layla greeted. “Were you in there asking for permission?”

  “Yeah,” Brietta answered, “but I should have known better. After what happened last night, they don’t want you leaving unless one of our strongest goes with you.”

  “I can understand that,” Layla replied, not really wanting to leave. “I’m sorry you’re disappointed.”

  “I’ll get over it. They offered to go with us, but they have more important things on their minds, so I told them it wasn’t necessary.”

  “That’s probably best. How’s Catigern doing?”

  “Really well. I saw him about an hour ago. You can’t even tell something’s wrong unless he moves. He’s just sore.”

  Layla nodded, but didn’t speak. She truly wanted to know about Catigern’s welfare, but the subject made her nauseous.

  “Do you still want to hang out around here?” Brietta asked.

  “Yes,” Layla answered. “Spending time with you and Sky is the only plan I have until two.”

  “What happens at two?”

  Layla couldn’t stop the heat from reaching her cheeks. “Quin’s coming ho
me early.”

  “Ahh...” Brietta hummed, flashing a knowing grin. “You guys have gotten pretty close, huh?”

  “I think so,” Layla mumbled. Then she took a sip of coffee, wondering if it would be inappropriate to talk to Brietta about Quin. “Is that unusual?”

  “Is what unusual?”

  “For Quin and I to be so close so quickly.”

  “Oh… that. Let’s go get Sky while we talk.”

  They turned toward the opposite side of the lawn, and after a few steps, Brietta dove into an answer. “It’s pretty common for magicians to form close relationships in a short amount of time, because our auras lay everything on the line. Playing hard to get is impossible, so if we’re attracted to someone who likes us back, intimacy quickly follows. However,” she added, glancing over, “it is unusual for Quin to be so close to you.”

  “Why?” Layla pressed.

  “Because Quin’s the exception to the rule,” Brietta explained. “Don’t get me wrong—he’s had plenty of women. I’m sure you’ve figured out he’s no virgin saint. But he doesn’t get emotionally involved, and he never commits.”

  “Why?” Layla repeated, glad she was getting trustworthy answers.

  Brietta chewed her lip as she carefully considered her response. “Well, it’s like he has it in his head he can’t settle, like he’s waiting for the ultimate connection, and it has to be there from the beginning, because he refuses to give women a chance to grow on him. He’s the only person I know like that.”

  “Surely you’re exaggerating,” Layla returned. “Quin doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who can’t look beyond a few imperfections.”

  “He doesn’t see the women he rejects as imperfect,” Brietta countered. “It’s not about their looks or personalities. It’s about the connection he feels with them, or doesn’t feel, I should say. I know he’s loved a couple of the women he’s been with. Not like head over heels in love, but he really cared for them. I know because he left them sooner than he left the others, and because he mourned them afterward. Everyone else I know would have given that situation a decent shot, but Quin won’t even consider it, because he knows what he’s looking for and he won’t bend.”

  “He’s the only wizard you know like that?”

  “Yep. I know several wizards who tend to hop from witch to witch, but those guys are slaves to their libido, and that’s not Quin. Sex has nothing to do with his commitment issues. It’s all about the connection.”

  “Do you have any theories as to why he’s so determined to find perfection?”

  “I honestly don’t know, Layla. I guess it could have something to do with his parents. Maybe he sees their relationship and thinks anything less is unnecessary. But less than one percent of magicians find their bonded mates. It’s the rarest gift in the world, and Quin knows that as well as anyone. So maybe he simply didn’t like the women he’s been with enough to sacrifice his freedom to them. Or maybe he just values his freedom more than others.”

  They’d reached Skyla’s house, so Layla stopped on the grassy path parting the garden. “Has he ever brought a woman around here?”

  “Sure,” Brietta answered. “He certainly doesn’t hide them away like he’s ashamed of them. If he’s dating someone, he’ll invite her to dinner or social gatherings, and he’s always considerate, but never openly affectionate.”

  Layla found that last part hard to believe considering Quin was the most openly affectionate man she’d ever met, and he’d been that way from the beginning.

  Brietta grinned and gave her a nudge. “He’s been very different with you. We’ve never seen him act this way.”

  “I’m not sure how to feel about that.”

  “It’s obvious you like it.”

  “I love the way Quin treats me, but I can’t help but wonder why I’m different than the others.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “It shouldn’t, but I worry he’s breaking his rules for the idea of me, not the real me.”

  Brietta’s perfect eyebrows furrowed over her cute nose. “What do you mean?”

  “Well,” Layla mumbled, trying to avoid the subject of Quin’s dreams. “I know he’s wondered about me, like where I’ve been and if I would ever come home. Plus I’m unusual because I’m twice bonded or whatever; and I’m part of his coven, so there’s an additional bond. Then there’s the fact that I’m currently stuck in the role of damsel in distress. So I have to wonder—if I were just another witch from another coven, would he feel the same way he does now?”

  Brietta wiggled her lips as she considered this, and Layla wondered if she, too, was trying to avoid the subject of Quin’s dreams. Surely she knew about them.

  “I can’t answer that,” she eventually replied, “and Quin probably can’t either, but it’s obvious he wants to be with you. Who cares why?”

  “I don’t care what his reasons are,” Layla clarified. “No matter what motivates him, I’ll accept and appreciate everything he does for me. But I’m worried he’ll realize it was the idea of me he fell for and leave for a stronger connection.” She paused, steeling herself to swallow her pride. “I really like him, Bri. If he does decide to move on... well, let’s just say it would take me to a place I never want to go. The fear of getting hurt like that makes it hard to get comfortable.”

  “Hmm... I see your point, and I understand why it would concern you given his track record, but there’s much more to Quin than his unusual outlook on relationships. Most notably, he’s extremely honest. I can’t stress that enough. I mean, most of us are openly expressive, but he blows magicians away with his honesty. And to my knowledge, which is fairly in depth in this area, he’s never been dishonest with a woman about how he feels. Believe me, I’ve heard about his blunt confessions from several perturbed witches.” She paused, smiling as she gave Layla’s shoulder a squeeze. “I love Quin very much. He’s fun and easygoing and one of the most thoughtful men I know. I get to experience what all those other girls don’t—an emotional connection with an amazing man—because his unwavering devotion has always been to the members of this coven. But since he met you, his priorities have shifted, and for the first time in his life he’s focusing on something he wants. He’s already cleared his calendar and filled the days with your name, so give yourself some credit then give him some. And if he ever hurts you, send him to me so I can kick his ass for making me a liar.”

  Layla laughed, touched by Brietta’s kind words and more secure in her relationship with Quin, which was exactly what she’d been looking for. She hated fishing for reassurance about a guy. It made her feel petty and desperate, but she was desperate. She was steadily falling in love with him and terrified to do it. “That helps, Bri. Thanks. Now let’s get Sky and have some fun.”

  “Let’s,” Brietta agreed, closing her eyes.

  A few seconds later Skyla bounded from the house with Blue and LaLa fluttering behind. “Hi,” she greeted, performing a triple-twirl off the porch.

  “Hi,” Layla laughed, admiring Skyla’s midnight blue hair. “Aren’t you still in school? How come you’re here and not there?”

  “Spring break,” Skyla explained, “and thank the Heavens. I get tired of looking normal.” She touched a forefinger to her right temple, and a sparkly blue star appeared, like a glittery tattoo.

  Layla stepped closer, examining it with a smile. “Did you dye your hair with magic, too?”

  “Yep,” Skyla answered, flipping her head around. “Do you like it?”

  “I do. It looks great with your eyes.”

  “I think so, too.”

  “I didn’t know we could do stuff like that.”

  “Sure, but it’s not permanent. It can be, but this spell only lasts as long as I hold it in place. When I go to sleep tonight, my hair will return to normal. Do you want me to dye yours? It will last as long as we’re together.”

  “Um... sure.”

  Skyla shuffled through spirals while working her magic. Then she summoned a hand
mirror and held it up. “What do you think?”

  Layla laughed as she examined her emerald green hair. “I’m not sure it suits me, but it’s fun.”

  “Yeah, you look better with black hair. Should I let the spell go?”

  “Not yet. I’ll wear it for a while.”

  The mirror disappeared and Skyla narrowed her eyes on Brietta. “Why don’t you do something with that mop of yours? You want to fit in, don’t you?”

  Brietta laughed as she tugged on Skyla’s wild hair. “What color should I do? You pick, Layla.”

  Layla thought for a moment, trying to decide what color best described her cheerful cousin. “How about pink? Then we’ll be a rainbow of colors.”

  “Pink’s my favorite,” Brietta approved, working the magic, and soon her hair was bubblegum pink.

  They appreciatively looked one another over. Then Skyla’s eyes lit up. “You guys are missing something.” She touched their right temples, and a pink star appeared on Brietta’s as a green star decorated Layla’s. “There. Now we could be an eighties rock band.”

  “The hair’s almost right,” Layla agreed, “just add hairspray and tease, but I don’t think our clothes fit the genre.”

  Brietta looked down at her pastel green, ankle-length dress. “We’re light years ahead of our time. That’s why our band’s so popular.”

  “Of course,” Layla laughed. “What is there for a famous band to do around here?”

  “Well,” Brietta answered, “we can’t leave the community, but it’s okay if we leave the lawn. There’s a small stream to the north that’s gorgeous this time of year, one of the prettiest stretches on our property. We could go visit and play there.”

  “Sounds perfect,” Layla agreed, transferring her mug to her house. She could only hope it made it to the kitchen counter.

  “Don’t you girls look festive?” a lovely voice sang out, and the three of them looked over, finding Morrigan and her basset hound approaching.

  “We’re an eighties rock band now, Aunt Morrigan,” Brietta pompously proclaimed, “and we’re really popular, so if you want our autographs, you’ll have to wait in line like everyone else.”