Page 63 of Witches Be Damned

“Is that all the welcome I get?” Tor’s joke broke up the fun.

Knoxe reluctantly let me go with a kiss.

I lowered myself into Tor’s lap, draped an arm over his shoulder and rested my head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. “How’s this?”

“Worthy of five romance stars,” Tor quipped.

Oh, my Superguy was asking for a tickle, and I jabbed into his armpits, making him wriggle.

“Okay. Eight stars,” Tor fake relented.

I kept it up until he awarded me nine. Life was always fun with him, and I loved and missed him the most when he made my whole body smile.

Seriously, this was the best reunion to elevate my low mood. My men knew exactly how to comfort me in trying times, and I couldn’t love them any more than I did in this moment.

“Never leave again, Supergal.” Tor rocked me in his arms.

“Speak for yourself.” I pumped his arm. “You three might get out before me and forget about me.” A real possibility if the biker Castor didn’t come through or the appeals lodged by Nightfire Academy’s headmaster failed.

Knoxe and Pascal dropped to their knees on either side of Tor’s wheelchair and claimed my hands, kissing them.

“Not happening, Supergal.” Tor reassured me of his love and commitment with the determination in his words. “We’ll blow a hole in these walls and earn another sentence just to stay with you before we ever leave you behind.”

Talk about a declaration of love. Out of all my men, Tor was the most likely to stick to his guns too.

“You better.” I snuggled harder into him, relishing the tender kisses on the back of my hands.

Tor went for a change in topic to erase any residual dark thoughts. “Just because I’m throwing these sappy suckers under the bus, P-man’s been composing sentimental love songs to get him through the days.”

Ah, trust Tor to steal Pascal’s limelight and announce it. Though, the brotherly pride was absolutely adorable when Pascal didn’t make a big deal about those things when they were huge.

“You have?” I couldn’t lean over and kiss him at this angle and had to resort to clasping his hand and running my thumb over it.

Pascal grinned and didn’t flinch for once. “Tor said they’re not bad.”

“Tor’s the standard for what’s good,” I teased.

“That’s right.” Tor pretended to scratch a record on a DJ turntable.

Pascal laughed at our jokes, and not a fake one, and a warm gooey caramel melted in my chest.

I didn’t want to point that out in front of the others, so went with, “Play them for me later?”

Every night after dinner, I looked forward to our time together, where he played music to fly my mind to a place where the prison, its walls, coldness, and isolation didn’t exist.

“You don’t have to ask, Songbird.” He squeezed my hand like he didn’t want to let go. I was spinning in a giddy gaze that he managed to maintain contact this long.

“I’m proud of you.” I gave him a pump. “Not just for the music.”

Tor clapped Pascal on the shoulder. “He can touch Knoxe for a full thirty seconds and me for over a minute. We were working on it while you were gone.”

Contact within the gamut of sex was different, and Pascal’s inclinations faded to the back of his mind.

“That’s incredible, White Lightning.” I used his superhero name because that was what he was to me. My hero.

I shifted my hand to his chest, reveling in his strong and steady heartbeat. Pascal’s smile was as beautiful as a meteor show.

Tor gave Pascal’s shoulder a shake. “I keep saying he ought to sell his tunes to big name songsters and earn millions. He’sthatgood.”

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