Page 55 of Bait N' Witch

She’d hide herself in the spirit realm, again, like she had when she’d kept Grey from seeing all those memories correctly. As long as she didn’t use her magic while in that form, she should be okay for a few days at least. She could watch over Grey and the girls, at least for a short while, to assure herself of their safety. Despite the trepidation that shook her at the thought of returning to that numb place, she had to do this. She couldn’t remain that way for longer than four days, just to be safe, as Tanya had said five, without risking becoming permanently spectral. No magic would discover her, and no wolves could control her from the nether world.

“Are you sure?” Delilah asked.

For Grey and the girls, the risk was worth taking. “Yes.”

“Okay. While you’re doing that, I’ll do my own hunting.”

Rowan assumed that meant going after the wolves themselves with whatever means were at Delilah’s disposal. Hopefully, this issue could be handled.

“After this is over, I’m telling Grey everything.” She’d turn herself in to Grey and the Covens Syndicate and pray they didn’t kill her before they questioned her.

“Let’s see how everything goes first. I’ll…have a chat with my Seer.”

“Fine.” Regardless of the Seer, she’d tell him the truth. Love had to start with trust. After she told him the truth, that might never happen for him, but she had to try. “Thank you, Delilah.”

“Good luck.”

Rowan hung up and tossed her phone on the bed. She needed to pack and disappear. But first, she had to tell Grey she needed to leave.

She hurried up the stairs. The house lay peacefully quiet, and she didn’t bother to turn on any lights as she moved on silent bare feet through the halls, moving quickly at a half run.

And slammed into a solid chest as he stepped out of his room—bare, warm, and muscled if her fingertips told the truth. “Grey,” she gasped.

Time suspended as they locked gazes. As if the moments between when she’d had her mouth on his and now hadn’t happened. Only he did nothing, though his fingers curled around her arms tightened with each passing tick of the grandfather clock. The need undeniable. And dammit, she didn’t want to keep rejecting it. Rejecting him. Because…

“Kiss me, Grey. Please.”

In answer he yanked her into his arms and crashed his mouth upon hers, taking her lips in a searing kiss. Her body flared to glorious life under his touch. With a bold tongue, he demanded, and she gave everything he asked, opening to him, matching him thrust for thrust, every thought of what she needed to do fleeing her mind as liquid heat rushed through her in a lava flow of need.

He pulled back with a sharply indrawn breath. “Thank the gods. I was coming down to you. You feel it, too, don’t you? This thing between us.”

Her chore pushed aside by blazing need, which demanded nothing less than surrender, she nodded. “Yes. But I thought…Persephone?”

He shook his head. “I never encouraged her.”

Thank the gods. Rowan hated the idea of him with that stuck-up witch.

He brushed a strand of hair back from her face, then leaned in to nuzzle her neck. “Stay with me tonight?”

One night just for her, for them—that was all she could give.

Again, she nodded, even as she stood on tiptoe, seeking his lips with her own. “Yes,” she whispered against his mouth, and he crushed her to him.

Backing her up, Grey pressed her against a wall, his body solid and warm, pinning her there while his mouth ravaged hers. With a surprisingly light touch that sent shivers cascading over her skin and down her spine, he traced down her arms with both hands, then in a sudden move, took her by the wrists and pinned her hands above her head.

Rowan cried out as the sigil on the inside of her wrist, already on fire, flared to excruciating life at his touch. Heat flooded her blood and through her body to the throbbing juncture at her thighs.

Sweet heaven above, he might make her come simply by touching that mark.

Holding her arms with one hand, he trailed his other hand down to cup the heavy weight of her breast. Rowan gasped as her nipples peaked eagerly, seeking his touch even through her T-shirt.

“So sensitive,” he murmured against her lips, satisfaction tingeing the words.

In answer Rowan tugged at her wrists, asking him to release her, then snuck her hand between them to where his hard length pressed against the zipper of his jeans. She stroked down the ridge of his erection, eliciting a groan.

“Mmmmm. So sensitive,” she echoed his words, right down to the tone of satisfaction. And then took it a step further. “I wonder if it would be just as sensitive if I licked?”

She caught the white flash of his grin in the moonlit hallway. “Witch.”

---