Page 6 of Unhinged Magic
Moving closer again, I took hold of the open door, effectively blocking her in on three sides, a clear exit on the fourth if she needed it.
Stripping my voice of emotion, I lowered it until barely a whisper left me. “This is no game. You know it, and I know it. Ty will understand eventually.”
She gave me a look as if to say, 'Are you nuts?'
I stepped closer until we were both hidden behind the door. The air between us thickened into something more personal. Skye held in a breath, as if letting go would drop her to the ground.
“Look, I know this is unexpected, and we have... history. It won’t be easy, but I know you feel the mate bond too.”
Her pupils blew out at my comment, her gaze capturing mine, wide, with an inferno burning in the depths of them. I looked down at her pebbled nipples peeking out from beneath her tee. There was no denying the attraction between us.
Her palms slamming into my chest caught me by surprise.
“You’re such a jackass!”
“I beg to differ,” I mused.
She pressed a finger to my chest. “You think you’re so smug, don’t you? Think I’ll fall to my knees like all the other girls that have ignited your huge ego. Well, I hate to cook your goose, Wesley, but that’s not me.”
For the first time in my life, speech evaded me.
She stepped into my space, raw emotion in her gaze. “Never joke about us being fated mates again.”
With that, she stormed off inside, leaving me somewhere between, did that just happen and what the fuck was going on?
I white-knuckled the door. None of this made sense. Skye’s scent lingered in the air, continuing to send my senses into overdrive. Usually I only sensed magic, but she hadn’t even used hers and she waseverywhere, invading my mind.
I had to take a moment to control my breathing, push down the urge to stride back into the room, wrap my hand around her arm and march her into my bedroom.
But that wasn’t me. Consent was one thing I never dismissed. It was as important to me as the air we breathed.
When I collected myself enough not to let my senses control my actions, I headed back inside, scanning the room.
Her gaze burned into mine, gouging an awkward path between us.
I approached Reid in the center of the room. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and, although clearly overheating from his last spar with Ty, he still had his top on. Reid was never without clothing, because beneath his skin of ink was evidence of the weight of his gift he never showed. His carefree exterior hid a multitude of mortification from the world, from some of his closest friends, even. I only knew because it was the art of my hand that had covered such a thing.
As I approached him, I peeled my grey t-shirt from my chest, dropping it to the ground.
A grin curved his lips into a smile. He lifted his cap off his head, throwing it aside. Roughing up his hair, he smirked, and gripped the material on his jeans. “Keen to put your money where your mouth is?”
“I don’t need a bet to flatten your ass,” I chided, even though this would be an even fight.
The two of us were similar in height and build. Reid was slightly bulkier, but not by much, just enough for me to know I had speed on my side, and that speed was the reason I won most of these.
“What if I mess up your hair, pretty boy?” I shot back.
Reid took more pride in his shithouse hairstyle than was necessary, his dark brown hair forever styled in a way that made him look like he didn’t give a shit, but I knew the real Reid. I could knock one out in the time it took him to do his hair.
He flipped me the bird. “You’re on.”
I felt the prickle of Skye’s glare on my back, and I purposely rolled my shoulders, knowing the ripple of movement it would cause. I didn’t dare look at her. What game was she playing? Whatever it was, I would play it if that was how she wanted this to go down. There was no way she could deny the tug of the mate bond that nearly floored me at the mere sight of her, and I looked forward to grating every nerve of her existence until she was writhing beneath me, screaming my name.
I nudged my knuckles against Reid’s.
We put on a good show, a fury of swift movements, fists, blocks, kicks and jabs, until sweat slid over us. Reid’s t-shirt clung to his torso as he circled again.
“Yield. You know you want to,” he bantered, his arms positioned in front of him in defense.
