Page 53 of Cursed Love
Slipping her hand under the band of his underwear, she dove right on in. He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes darkening when her small fingers wrapped around this thick length.
Their position wasn’t ideal, but she was able to slide her hand down to the base of his shaft and back up. His thick, short hairs rubbed against her with each stroke. Releasing him, she slid her thumb through the drop of moisture at the slit and brought it to her mouth.
Ryan stared as she licked her thumb. “Mmm… not bad,” she teased.
“I’ll give you not bad.” He grunted and lifted her into his arms.
Brandy locked her ankles around his waist and sought the friction she needed. He cupped her ass and kneaded the flesh as he walked them out of the room.
“Nope. Ryan, put her down,” Peter ordered from his usual spot on the couch.
“Fuck off,” Ryan replied and continued peppering the sensitive skin at her neck with kisses.
Brandy should have been embarrassed, but she was too lost in their lust. Her bodycravedRyan like it craved oxygen for survival. Her nipples, clit, and sex physically ached, and only Ryan could soothe it by filling her.
Peter was on his feet in a flash, stopping Ryan from taking another step toward the bedroom. He growled. “Put. Her. Down.”
“No,” Ryan replied, and the air around them crackled.
“Damn it, Ryan!” Peter snapped, his eyes glowing a vibrant golden hue.
Faster than she thought possible, she found herself in Peter’s arms and Ryan knocked out cold on the ground. Brandy hit Peter repeatedly as he carried her away.
“Stop it.” Peter growled before tossing her on the center of the bed. “Don’t make me put you in a cold shower!”
“What the hell?” she yelled, forcing herself not to attack her friend. Magic swirled around her, the power feeding her and urging her on.
“You two need to keep your hands to yourselves until you can find a way to break your curse. If Ryan loses you…” Peter shook his head and sighed. Unable to finish the sentence, he stormed out of the room.
His reminder of the curse and all the people who would miss her was just what she needed. Lying back on the bed, she rubbed her face. She was antsy and frustrated. Her need to touch Ryan messed with her head. A cold shower, like the one Peter had mentioned, or a walk would calm her down.
She freshened up and grabbed a few things from her purse. With any luck, they were near somewhere she could get food. Brandy patted her pockets for the cash and ID she had slipped inside them and then pulled her shirt down, hoping the smart werewolf would not notice the bulge.
After a fortifying breath, she stepped into the living room. Ryan was still out cold, and Peter had laid him on the couch.
“Brandy?” Peter growled, his unease vibrating throughout his body.
“Is he okay?” she whispered.
Peter looked from her to Ryan. “He’ll be fine,” he muttered before narrowing his eyes on her. “What are you up to?”
Brandy swallowed through the sudden dryness. “Umm… I’m just getting some water from the kitchen.” The lie rolled off her tongue, and she wondered if he had heard the tremble in her voice. Peter studied her a moment before his gaze shifted to his game.
She took a deep breath and flicked her fingers in Peter’s direction. His widening eyes froze on their return to her. She cleared her throat. “Peter? Ryan?” she whispered.
A minute passed before she congratulated herself and hurried out of the condo. Her heart thundered in her chest as she peeked up and down the hall. When she saw no one, she rushed toward one end, hoping to find an elevator or the stairwell.
After three flights of stairs, she made her way out of the building. Brandy studied the street before picking a direction to go. Walking briskly, she pushed out her magic, sensing for any other magic or danger. Tendrils of another witch could be felt in the opposite direction, confirming she had picked the best way to travel.
Twenty minutes later, after backtracking and confirming she was alone, she ducked into a bistro on the corner. Brandy ordered at the counter, her eyes moving to the door and the people milling about. She did her best to smell the air, looking for any signs of danger, all the while not standing out like a strange woman.
A man behind the counter called out her number a few minutes later, drawing her attention from a couple who were a few feet away. She carried her order to a table facing the front and sat with her back against the wall. From her seat, she watched people coming and going.
The fresh air she wanted to enjoy after leaving the confines of Peter’s condo never came. Eating her food in peace was an impossible task. Her nerves were frayed. Each person who walked in presented a possible threat until she could determine if they were a danger to her.
Being away from the security of the condo began to affect her. It weighed her down until she experienced a tightness in her chest. She rubbed the heel of her palm over her breastbone, wondering if she was experiencing an anxiety attack or worse.
She pushed her half-eaten plate aside and focused on breathing, hoping each breath would soothe the pain. In her urgency to spend time away from the boys, she hadn’t paid attention to where the condo was located.
