Page 56 of The Seer

“Mmm,” she murmured, covering the hand with hers and lowering it to the waistband of her panties. “Magic-finger exploration should start much lower.”

Fintan’s deep chuckle made her smile. “Sure, and I was waiting for your permission,aoibhneas mo croí.” He shifted to see her expression.

“I—”

The events in the ceremony room came crashing back, and she jackknifed into a sitting position. Or as much as a sitting position as her forehead connecting with his face would allow.

“Fuck!”He fell back on the mattress beside her, cupping his nose.

“Fintan!” Taryn attempted to roll but got tangled in the sheets and flailed her arms. Her fist cracked him in the jaw. “Ohmygod! Fintan, I’m so sorry,” she cried, when he swore again.

She scrambled to her knees, but stopped short of helping him. Shock held her still.

“Um, where are my pants?”

He sat up, and the sheet fell below his waist.

“And where areyours?” she asked with a horrified gasp. “Did we… Did you… Are you an Incubus?”

He scowled.

“I’m going to take that as a no. If we’d had sex, you’d be in a better mood,” she concluded.

“Ya hit me in the feckin’ face, Taryn-Taryn. Twice. How grand a mood do you expect me to be in?”

“Fair point. So did we?”

“No.” His reply was nothing short of surly. “You’re right. I’d be in a better mood.”

She giggled.

A lopsided smile curled his mouth. “The pants you’re seekin’ are on the chair behind ya. I assumed you’d be more comfortable sleepin’ without your jeans.”

“You’re a prince among men, Fintan Sullivan.” Only inches away, it seemed natural to kiss him for his thoughtfulness. Leaning in, she brushed his nose with hers, then lightly bussed his lips.

“Don’t be spreadin’ vicious rumors,” he murmured against her mouth before nipping her lip.

“Oh, I intend to tell the entire world. Boy-band alumni, Fintan Sullivan, appears like a grumpy shit, but he’s actually the sweetest man you’ll ever meet?—”

Taryn ended on a scream as he tackled her.

“It wasn’t a feckin’ boy band!”

Suddenly, she didn’t feel like teasing anymore. There were questions she needed answered.

“Seriously, about your Siren, what happened downstairs?” she asked.

His face darkened, and he delayed answering to brush her hair from her cheek. His hesitancy made her take stock of her body. Other than relaxed, she wasn’t sore where it counted, meaning the thing had left her unmolested after she passed out.

“Fintan?”

“Aye, it didn’t hurt you, love.”

“That’s a good thing. So why are you so serious?”

“I’ve felt it struggling to get free since I visited your home, but I thought I had control. It snapped the chain before I could stop it,” he said.

“And that bothers you.”

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