Page 34 of Wicche Hunt

“Do you have any idea about the sheer tonnage of fucked-up stuff I have in my head? I’ve been seeing horrible things for as long as I can remember.”

“Right. I don’t want to be lumped in with the fucked-up stuff rolling around in your brain, biding its time, waiting to pop out in nightmares. I don’t want to ever be your nightmare.”

I thunked my head against his chest. “Stupid wolf,” I said again.

“I know.”

I tipped my head back again. “You’re not allowed to die. I forbid it.”

His lips tipped up on one side. “I promise.”

Leaning down, his gaze traveling from my eyes to my lips, he waited. We were still figuring it out. He was a magical null. If I touched him, my magic disappeared. On one hand, amazing! I could have a physical relationship and not hear his thoughts. On the other, who was I if I wasn’t the sea wicche? People relied on me. We had a freaking sorcerer in the family. I couldn’t take chances with my magic just because he was super hot and I was coming down with feelings for him.

Fuck it. I was pretty sure I knew how to undo Declan’s touch. Going up on my toes, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his mouth down to meet mine.

The kiss was sudden and explosive, making me desperate for him. He palmed my ass and then hitched me up so my legs were wrapped around his waist. There was a swoop up and then a thump down.

I opened my eyes, our mouths still fused. “Wha—” I started to say, but he just changed the angle and cut off my words.

He walked us into the barn and then leaned my back against a support beam. When he broke the kiss to nibble on my neck, he said, “Too open out there.”

He rotated his hips, hitting me just right, and I groaned. Dropping me back to the ground, he kicked over a crate, put his hands around my waist, and put me on it so our heights were closer. Trailing kisses along my jaw, he flicked the button straps on my overalls, making them pool around my ankles. He took a moment to gaze down at me in my thermal shirt and panties, eyes wolf gold.

His fingertips traced the ribbon of scales that wrapped around my thigh, my waist, before trailing up my back. I’d created my octopus tattoo to cover the scales because I was so horribly self-conscious about them. Ursula, my animated tattoo, must be hiding somewhere. This was all very unusual for us.

I was starting to freeze up, wanting my protective overalls again when he whispered, “So beautiful. My siren.”

Squeezing my waist, he brought me close for more heated kisses, making me forget about scales and embarrassment. One large, warm hand went up my shirt to fondle a breast while the other slid into my panties and then into me.

Gasping, I pulled at his belt, getting it undone and his jeans unbuttoned. He stayed my hand, stepping back and swearing.

“Why does the world hate me,” he mumbled, pulling up my overalls and fastening the straps over my shoulders.

Then I heard it too. A car was pulling up and parking near the open barn door. I pulled down my thermal and tucked it in while Declan did up his jeans and buckled his belt. A moment later, another car kicked up dirt and pebbles before parking outside the door.

“Work crew is arriving,” Declan muttered. He took my hand and walked us out, past the men going in. He nodded to them but kept going to his truck. I’ll take you home.”

“We haven’t cleaned out the toolbox yet.”

He shook his head on a growl. “Damn it. All I can smell is you and it’s making me crazy.” Although clearly worked up, he was very gentle picking me up by the waist and placing me in the truck bed again.

“I need my backpack.”

He nodded and went to the cab for it. When he handed it to me, I sat on the wheel well and unzipped the bag, hunting for the honey bottle. Testing things, I flicked my fingers at the toolbox, trying to lift the lid. It was a simple spell and worked well. So Declan only nulled some of my powers. Interesting. We needed to do more research when we were alone and had the time.

I took off my gloves and squirted seawater over my hands and felt an immediate change. Voices and emotions swirled around me until I’d erected my mental walls again. Huh. We needed to figure this out.

He held out his hands before I put the honey bottle away.

“It’s not hand sanitizer,” I said.

He grinned. “I know, but it might help me get your scent out of my head so I can think straight.”

I splashed him with seawater and he rubbed his hands together before wiping them on his jeans. He held them chest high and blew out a breath, shaking his head.

“I guess the ocean isn’t a secret weapon for you.” I put the bottle away and stood to look in the box.

“I’ll be back in a minute. I need soap.” He stepped up on the wall of the truck bed and jumped down. Ah, the swoop and thump when we were kissing made more sense now.

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