Page 15 of Ensnared
But I can’t be sure. So I’ve been keeping my head down and staying inside as much as I can. I don’t want to cause a mass panic or be the reason humans discover that witches still exist. If my coven wasn’t already convinced I was a loser, this incident would definitely tip the scales. I’ve never heard of anyone fucking up this badly in the presence of humans.
I shudder from cold and apprehension. I’m so miserable, I’m considering putting on my snow gear just to get warm. At the same time, I know I deserve it. If I hadn’t taken off my bracelets for that ritual, none of this would have happened. Iknewmy powers were unpredictable at best and damaging at worst, but did I care? No. All I wanted was to do a stupid full moon meditation to see if I finallybelongedhere.
The thought has me snorting out loud, but then the laugh turns into a sob. I press my lips together and force myself not to cry. I haven’t cried at all today: I didn’t allow myself to because I’m not going to indulge in self-pity while Jack is lying at the Lodge, exhausted or maybe even dying from whatever I unwittingly did to him.
Another flash of lightning outside is followed by a crack of thunder, close together. Princess Penny wakes up with a bark and shoots under the couch. She’s been doing this on and off all day, and we’re both exhausted. I tried comforting her by holding her close, but she’d just wiggle out of my lap the moment the thunder was over. So now she’s wedged beneath the couch, probably rolling in dust bunnies because I haven’t had the energy to even sweep the floors today.
What a witch I am.
In the lull between gusts of wind, the porch steps creak. My body freezes. I listen for the sound, but there’s nothing. I return to typing, even though I’m not very productive with my bracelets on and my mind on other things. Then I hear it again, a shuffle and a step.
If I was in any other place in the country, I’d have my phone out and nine-one-one dialed, ready to call. But I fried mine during my ill-advised magic training session with Aiden. No one had gone to Anchorage yet, so I haven’t been able to ask for a replacement. Besides, we all had more pressing issues on our minds.
Like Jack nearly dying.
So I can’t call for help. I’m not even sure what the police could do—we’re several hours from the nearest town with a police station, and that’s by plane. Aiden is what passes for law enforcement in this village, and I have no way of calling him, either.
I wonder: would Princess Penny bark if a bear was sitting on our porch? She’s a city dog through and through. She might not even know what a bear smelled like. Surely there’ssomesurvival instinct left in her? Or maybe it had all been bred out of her little Pomeranian body.
I put the laptop away and set my feet on the cold wood floor. I’m wearing two pairs of socks, so I tiptoe silently to the front door. None of the windows face the porch, which is definitely a design problem, but there’s a small pane of glass set in the door that allows me to peer outside.
I can’t see shit. The night is dark, and since the moon is hidden behind thick clouds, there’s no illumination. San Diego is lit up even in the middle of the night, but here in the Alaskan wilderness, the darkness is absolute.
A flash of lightning shocks me, and I jump back, then let out a scream as thunder cracks, so close I’m sure the lightning hit the Lodge or one of the tall spruce trees surrounding the cabins.
A figure looms on my porch, silhouetted by the lighting. Someone tall and broad, right in front of my door. A whimper tries to escape my throat, but I suppress it, clamping down on my terror. I huddle to the wall and try not to make a sound.
“Skye? Hey, it’s me. Jack.”
I slouch in relief, all the tension going out of me. A knock sounds on the door, and I pull it open, startling him. He lowers his hand, and we stare at each other.
He’s soaked through. Since it’s pouring rain, that’s not surprising, but he’s not even wearing a jacket. His t-shirt is plastered to his body, molding to his broad shoulders and cut stomach. His short hair is spiky with water, and raindrops cling to the scruff of his beard.
He’s watching me just as closely, his hungry gaze traveling over my face, my chest, my legs. Then he meets my eyes again, and I snap.
“Oh gods,” I sob and throw myself at him.
He catches me easily and holds me close, his strong arms crushing me to him. I’m instantly damp, but I don’t care. He’s alive, he’shere, and he’s hugging me back, lifting me off the ground. Jack groans and presses his face into my neck while I cling to him and cry as I haven’t allowed myself to cry.
“I’m sorry,” I gasp. “I was so worried you wouldn’t wake up. Every time I thought—”
He stops my words with his lips. Our mouths meet in a desperate kiss, teeth clashing, and I let him devour me. He pushes me back inside, and we stumble over the threshold into the entryway. Jack manages to kick the door closed behind him. I shove up his t-shirt, and he drags it over his head in one fluid move, then throws it on the floor, where it lands with a wet slap.
He tears my hoodie from me and paws at my leggings, but I’m way ahead of him. I shimmy out of my clothes in record time, until I’m naked in front of him. And a part of me wants to slow down, to ask him if he’s okay. I open my mouth to speak, but he kicks off his boots and shucks his jeans, and I’m left staring at a completely naked Jack.
My magic left no visible trace on him. He even seems well-rested, no shadows under his eyes. I wish I could take photos of him so I’d preserve this image for eternity. He’s a work of art, and I want him so much, my hands tremble with restraint. I need him to tell me what he wants from me, because I’ve already taken so much from him without permission.
He steps closer and smooths a curl from my face, his fingers lingering at my jaw. There are questions in his eyes I can’t answer without words, but he doesn’t seem to want to talk.
He kisses me again, and it’s a different kind of kiss, slow and drugging. He licks into my mouth, and my eyelids flutter closed. My heart is breaking at the tenderness he brings to this moment. I want him to go harder, faster, so we can lose ourselves in the passion and forget about all the hurt of the past days.
But Jack won’t let me. With every kiss, he forces me to bare more of myself, to let him in, and he’s showing me his fucking soul with every deliberate caress. He picks me up and carries me to the bed, where he gently puts me down, then crawls in next to me. He explores my body as though he’s mapping it, trailing his lips over every dip and valley, until I’m writhing beneath him.
He doesn’t say a word, but I obey his every command. When he touches my knees, I let them fall apart, and he licks a path up my thighs to my sex, then spreads me with his fingers. Our eyes meet, and I know he wants me to watch him. I’m trembling with pleasure, and the first long, slow lick over my clit has my hips arching off the bed.
“Jack!”
His strong hands grip me, and he holds me in place, unyielding, and drives me higher and higher toward my peak. Tears stream from my eyes, and I dash them away with my hands, sobbing still.
