Page 10 of Waltzing With Witches

The dominant side of my personality raises its ugly head and surprises me. Most of that emotion died when I underwent Keeper training. It rushes back as Morgan glares at me. When I say nothing, she steps forward until her breasts brush against my chest.

My body betrays me, something I know can’t logically be helped. She’s my mate, even though I can’t have her. My muscles tense and tighten as she tosses her long red locks over one shoulder, gray eyes flashing at me as her breasts pillow against my chest.

“Fucking say it. It took us ages,” she growls. The sheer violence in her tone has my dick hardening painfully in my jeans. My imagination threatens to run wild with images of her underneath me, but I manage to tamp them down.

I suck in a deep breath, forgetting that I was supposed to be holding it. Her scent slams into me, drowning me in whiskey and cherries and decadent pure chocolate.

A muscle underneath my eye twitches. “It’s lovely,” I murmur, not looking away from her.

She lifts her chin defiantly, giving me a direct view of the vein that throbs down the length of her alabaster neck. Without warning, my fangs split my gums and shoot down to poke my chin.

Her eyes go wide, and she takes a rushed step back.

I follow, staying in her space. “Are you satisfied?” I grit out. “Was that enough for you and the building?”

Her storm-cloud gaze falls to my fangs. “Are you freaking out? Is that why the teeth came out?”

I grip her bag tighter and whirl in place, stalking toward the door. “I don’t freak out, Morgan,” I call out over my shoulder. “Come.”

She mutters under her breath but follows me out of Town Hall into the early morning light.

“You must be joking,” she deadpans as I sling one leg over my motorcycle. “You want me to get on that and, what, hang on to you?”

“I didn’t realize I’d have a passenger,” I remind her, her bag still slung over my shoulder. “I was simply responding to Town Hall’s alarm.”

Gray eyes assess my vintage motorcycle. It’s not a two-seater. She’ll have to sit in front of me. That’ll be discomfiting because I’ve never been this close to her—on purpose.

With a disgruntled-sounding grumble, she pulls her hair up into a messy bun. I’m sure it’s to keep it from flying around as we drive, but it’s intoxicating seeing her deft fingers wrapped around all that glorious red hair. It’s streaked with the occasional golden strand. And once it’s all piled up onto her head, her elegant neck is on full display.

I don’t realize I’m staring until she plants both hands on her hips.

“You’re not gonna bite me, are you? You’re staring at my neck like you can’t wait to rip into it.”

“I’ll never bite you,” I say simply.

Something changes in her expression, a myriad of emotions flickering through her features so fast, I can’t get a full read on any one sentiment.

“This isn’t easy for me either,” I say in what I hope is a gentle tone, hoping to show we might be feeling the same way.

“You are really something,” she snaps, sliding one leg carefully over the motorcycle. She leans forward over the bloodred body, careful not to touch me.

Confusion muddies my thoughts. “What did I say? Are you angry?”

She glances over her shoulder, giving me a view of her elegant nose and plump lower lip. The vein in her neck throbs with the rapid pace of her heartbeat.

I’m breathing again. I zip my lips closed and make a conscious choice not to allow her scent in. Not with how she’s seated between my thighs.

“Forget about it,” she says after a long pause. “Let’s just go.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask why she agreed to come with me. I’m not even sure I know why I asked her to. But if there’s a safety situation with the Annabelle, I need to sort that out before I allow Morgan to return.

She sits stiffly between my thighs, muscles tense. Stray bits of hair trail down the back of her neck, taunting me. I allow myself a moment to admire the slim column. From this angle, I can’t see that beautiful, plump vein along the front of her neck, but that’s for the best. It’s alluring, and I can’t afford alluring.

It’s for her own good that I don’t allow myself the indulgence of temptation.

I reach around her, my arm brushing against her side. When she leans away from me, I let out a huff.

“We can’t ride like this. You’ll fall off the moment we go around a corner. Allow me.”

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