Page 73 of Waltzing With Witches

Abe’s eyes go wide as he rises from the barstool. “Where did you get that?”

I lift the ziol and spin it in the low light, pressing it to my finger. When I depress the button on the back, the points slide fast into my skin, puncturing the pad of my forefinger.

Abe lets out a choked sound, slipping up onto the counter on both knees. He grabs my wrist and the ziol, unwrapping my fingers where I’m holding the pendant. When I open my hand, he snarls and grabs the ziol, tossing it away from us. It hits the wall somewhere to my right, then falls to the floor.

“Get rid of it,” Abe snaps at Ben.

A floorboard creaks, snapping out and back into place.

“I was just borrowing that,” I shout. “I’ve got to return it!”

“I will return it to Pietro,” Abe barks. “With an order not to gift my mate a single fucking thing.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to mention the second eyelid thing, but I don’t want to put Pietro on the Keeper’s shit list.

“I approached him,” I admit. “I wanted to know what I could do that you’d appreciate.”

He gives me an incredulous look, his fingers still wrapped around my wrist. “Why?” The word is spoken so low, I can barely hear it.

I push the coffee cup under my hand. Then I squeeze my fingers together until the blood drips into Abe’s coffee.

“Morgan,” he gasps.

I push the coffee toward him, a slight red hue swirling in the creamy foam on top. “I’ve seen another side of you, a side I didn’t know existed. I want us for however long we have.”

He slips off the counter and crushes his lips to mine, placing my arms up around his neck. His arms go around me, pressing me flat to his broad chest. His lips are frantic, frenzied. Innate power is obvious in the tight bunch of his muscles against mine. One of his hands comes to the back of my head as he devours me. And I lose myself completely in a kiss that says what he hasn’t said—that this thing between us is so real and powerful, we couldn’t deny it if we tried.

When we part, chests heaving, he brings both hands to my face, his gaze focused on me. “I’m sure you’ll think it’s far too soon for me to say this, but I’m in love with you, Morgan Anne Hector. Before I met you, I loved the idea of you because we’d had no time. And then I loved the version of you I thought I’d lost. But the real you, the you that’s here now in my arms? I am deeply, wildly gone for that woman.”

My eyes fill with tears, but he’s not done delivering the emotional blows I needed. He brings his forehead to mine, brushing his lips down the bridge of my nose. “You are my favorite person in this entire universe. I don’t deserve you, but if you want me despite my many, many shortcomings and failures, then I’m yours.”

I’m his favorite. I was never anyone’s favorite.

I hop up onto the bar and wrap my legs around his waist, hauling him closer. Reaching for the coffee, I lift it to his lips.

“Then you’re mine,” I whisper. The words “I love you too” are on the tip of my tongue, but somehow I can’t say them yet. We’ve moved so quickly. He doesn’t press me to, either. Instead, he lifts the cup to his lips and takes a tentative sip. Black lashes flutter against his pale cheeks as he takes another sip, and another. His tongue peeks out to lick along the edge of the cup.

“Jesus, that’s hot,” I manage.

He groans and licks his way along the edge of the cup before taking another deeper drag of the hot liquid. When he bites the cup again, I watch in utter fascination.

“Pietro said this would make you wild,” I say. “Guess he was right?”

Abe sets the cup down and plants a hand on either side of me. “Give me your neck, Morgan.”

Without thinking, I let my head fall back, anticipating the press of his warm, rough lips.

“This is a problem,” he mutters. “Because Pietro’s right. I am on the knife’s edge of losing control.” His fingers come to my chin. He strokes a line down my throat as I rock my hips against him. “Your very existence is the headiest of enticements. But this? The way you offer your neck so willingly? I want to bite you so badly.”

The part of my mind that’s fucking horny and hot from all this teasing wants to tell him to fucking do it. That I’m a black witch, and we’ll figure it out together. But the rational, scientific side of me rears her bitch head to remind me that Abe and Moira have been looking for an answer for decades, and they know this world far better than I do.

I fight to raise my head and look at him. He looks so torn, brows furrowed, his mouth slightly open. I can’t imagine how long it’s been for him since he felt real pleasure. After this horrible fucking day, all I want is to give that to him, so he can have a few hours of peace.

“Abe, hold still,” I command.

He cocks his head to the side. “Why?”

“Because I asked you to.”

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