Page 58 of Above Cursed Winds

And then her lips were on his. Her body pushed against his, the soft against the hard, and it was all Jeremiah could do to restrain the ferocity that coursed through his veins. Politeness forgotten, Zia claimed him, linking her arms around his neck and demanding he met her in the middle.

All of his troubles, anger, and guilt constricted, until his entire world was limited to just Zia. The only thing he remained conscious of was the way her lips burned into his.

Grasping her hips, he hauled her even closer, then flipped them so that she was the one pressed against the wall. A startled sound left her lips, but it only beckoned him onward, growling with need.

She didn’t move as his teeth bit into the sensitive area between her neck and her shoulder, claiming her as though he had a right to. Heat poured into the space between them, igniting a wave of lust he had no hope of quelling.

But she did.

Her giggle made him pause, the girlish sound making his lips curl. When she spoke, her voice was full of amusement. “I spilled the jelly.”

Blinking confused at her for a minute, he watched as she rolled her eyes before pointing over his shoulder. He followed her finger to find an open jar of jam on the ground, spilled out of the basket she’d brought with her.

“And why does the lady have jelly?”

“Because I brought you a picnic.”

Zia traipsed over to jar. Carefully, she picked it up, ensuring none of the strawberry jam had gotten onto the carpeting.

“We’re going to the lighthouse.”

“Are we?”

“Yes,” she snapped back, gathering up the basket and his phone in one fell swoop. “So, let’s go before I get sucked into another episode of ‘finding my tongue inside Jeremiah’s mouth.’”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

A soft smile of appreciation made Jeremiah’s classically handsome face devastating. Under his air shield, neither of them had gotten wet from the ever-increasing pelting of rain that signaled the impending hurricane.

Nero had already removed the downed trees using remote teleportation and cleaned up the landscape. Regardless of the damage that’d certainly make landfall, her sovereign took pride in their home. So did Zia.

Chancing a glance at the Elemental beside her, she was satisfied to see Jeremiah grinning, staring at the lighthouse as they neared.

“It’s been here since 1850.” Weaving her fingers through his, she paused when those summer blues found hers. “One of the first on the island. Fortunately, Nero’s rather persuasive, and kept the indigenous humans from being too curious about our lands all these centuries.”

Jeremiah hummed, then asked, “Where is Myko now? With his father?”

“Yes.” All joy wiped from her face. “Sehrin’s playing video games while Myko watches. It’s his idea of taking an interest in his son’s passions.”

Despite her best efforts, her son’s childhood had been hard. He was so hungry for love and attachment, and she didn’t want to spoil his time with his father. Worse would be unintentionally influencing him against Sehrin, but Myko was mature enough that he would catch on soon. It would be a difficult conversation to have, and she had readied herself for it.

Reaching the lighthouse, Zia waved a hand to unlock the door, then proceeded up the stairs. Jeremiah chuckled. “You were right. The view is spectacular.”

She savored the look of mischievous seduction on his features. The Elemental was a flirt, no doubt, but the way he gazed at her wasn’t superficial. She could see in his eyes that he was falling for her, hook, line, and sinker—just as she was for him.

She continued up the spiral staircase until they’d arrived at the top. While the light was currently off, there was no shortage of brightness. Rain splattered against the 360-degree windows, a cacophony of sound that pinged against glass.

Pivoting, she gestured to the floor. “Take a seat, my lord.”

Jeremiah donned a lopsided grin, a twinkle in his eye. “My lord, huh? Shall I call you Lady Z?”

“Only if you feel so inclined.”

She opened the basket and began divvying out what she’d brought. That was when Jeremiah became pensive. He watched her as she slathered peanut butter and jelly on bread, poured some chips onto his plate, and then asked him what drink he wanted. She’d brought five, just in case. Zia hadn’t wanted to be without options.

About five minutes into his silence, she could no longer stand it. “Why have you stopped talking?”

Swallowing a mouthful of sandwich, Jeremiah asked, “Is this a ‘thank you, goodbye’ lunch? Now that Sehrin’s here, you don’t need me anymore?”

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