Page 42 of Dark of Winter (Wild Haven 1)

“You should go home.” Davis steps back and my panties, which were just about to explode, are now in a very annoying wad up my ass.

I also take a step back, glaring at Davis. “This is my home, jackass.”

Davis opens his mouth like he’s going to reply but must think better of it. He shakes his head, ripping off his stocking cap and dragging his hand through his hair as he takes another step back.

As pissed as his comments make me, I don’t want him to go. Even with the spell in place, I still feel vulnerable. Which I fucking hate. Now I’m struggling with whether to choke down my pride and ask him to stay or if I’m back to shoving a chair underneath my bedroom door for the night.

Davis hesitates on the edge of the kitchen, and I see his own indecision. “Are you going to be okay here alone tonight?”

I wonder how he felt when he knew his dad had broken into his place? In that case, he knew who was breaking in. I’m not sure if that’s better or worse than an unknown walking into your house like they own it. I consider telling him I’m fine and forcing him out the door. It’s what I should do because he’s being a jerk. I also really don’t want him to leave.

“At the risk of sounding weak, which I’m totally not, just sensible, do you mind staying? There are plenty of spare rooms. I just… it would… I would appreciate it.”

We’re back to a grunt of acknowledgement and the briefest nod of his head. Looks like we’re having a sleepover.

***

I get Davis settled in a room, and we both go off to our respective corners for the night. I hovered outside his doorway for way longer than normal before finally going back to my room. Whatever that was in the kitchen has left me all amped up and feeling raw. I’ve never had something like that happen to me when I’ve done magic in the past. I could easily get addicted to that feeling, to the feel of Davis’s magic moving beneath my skin.

Now that I’m in my room, all I can think about is that he’s mere doors away. I pace, my skin overly sensitive and charged. My mind keeps going back to the scars on the back of his hands, the rough pads of his calloused fingers, the way he smells like the ocean and appears to hate the world, but maybe not as much as he wants everyone to believe. I brush my teeth and get ready for bed, trying to keep myself occupied when all I can think about is him.

I have every intention of turning off my lights and jumping into bed, but I don’t want to go to sleep with this tension between us. It prickles against my skin. I’m not going to apologize by any means but maybe I should thank him for coming back over here, for helping with the spell and for staying to make sure I don’t freak out in the middle of the night.

Before I make a conscious decision, I’m out of my room and down the hall. My breaths are too quick when I stop in front of his door, nervous energy fluttering in my belly. I don’t know why I don’t knock, it’s not like I grew up without manners, but I’ve apparently forgotten them all. Pushing open the door, I stick my head in, ready to call out for Davis to… apologize, pick a fight, poke him in the chest? I don’t even know what my excuse is for coming in here, just that I have this need driving me to go talk to him.

The guest room is large and comfortable and thankfully magically as clean as the rest of the house, since I wasn’t planning on having someone spend the night. All the bedrooms have an ensuite so there’s literally no reason Davis would need to come out of this room tonight. Unless I scream bloody murder. The carpet is plush under my bare feet as I take a step inside and immediately freeze on the spot.

The bathroom door is flung wide open and why shouldn’t it be? The bedroom door was closed and who just walks into a guest’s room without invitation? Oh, right. Me, that’s who.

A barrage of images register so quickly that I barely know what I’m seeing. Davis is standing at the vanity with his back to me. His shirt is gone, exposing the long, dangerous lines of his sleek, powerful muscles. His back is littered with tattoos, more of those ancient looking runes I’ve seen on his arms and peeking out of the collars of his shirts. They almost appear to move as his muscles bunch and shift. Scars also crisscrossed his back and my heart aches at the sight. Holy fuck. What the hell happened to him to leave those kinds of marks?

I’m quickly distracted from that train of thought when the jerk of his shoulder and a low grunt capture my attention. A heat starts to burn low in my belly as I realize what he’s doing.

Davis’s jeans sag a little, like they’re unbuckled. I can’t see his hand, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on. Heat flames up my neck and cheeks, and the growing fire in my belly travels down between my thighs.

He’s totally jerking off.

My mouth goes dry, and I bite down hard on my lip, wanting nothing more than to go lay my hands all over his scarred, tattooed flesh. Instead, I’m glued to the middle of the doorway, a thousand thoughts flying between my ears.

I should leave.

I should stay and watch.

I should walk over there and help him out.

This is a total intrusion, and I should not be watching this, but I can’t get my feet to move. I’m tethered to the spot, my eyes locked on the twitch of his muscle and the sounds of his breath that make it to me across the room. God, even his breathing is turning me on.

From the mirror in the bathroom, I can only see Davis’s face and his eyes are closed, head tipped back, a pained expression furrowing his brow. Yep, this is definitely an invasion, and I need to leave. Just when I think my feet will cooperate, Davis’s eyes snap open and lock on mine.

I’m frozen like I’ve stared straight into Medusa’s eyes. Davis doesn’t give any of his thoughts away as he glares at me through the mirror. I can’t tell if he’s pissed, embarrassed, or if my watching makes this hotter. Never knew I had this kink. Davis merely looks as bad-tempered as he always does. Is he going to yell at me to get the fuck out?

My mouth parts like I might sputter out a garbled apology when his arm slowly starts to move again. All while Davis’s eyes never leave mine. Everything drops away from around me and Davis is all that remains.

This is probably the dirtiest thing I’ve ever done. I’ve never claimed to be crazy in the sexy department, and I’m so fucking turned on right now. I clench my hands into fists to keep from touching myself right here and now.

Davis’s breaths are coming harder and faster, and I’m matching them with my own ragged breathing. The hand not around his dick slams into the wall next to him like he needs something to hold him up. Or maybe he really just wants to punch something. He doesn’t even blink, his eyes still latched onto mine as his jerks become erratic and his shoulders twitch and spasm. It’s obvious when he finishes. My entire body is trembling and ready to combust from the need to cross the room and touch him.

Both of us are breathing hard, the air heavy with lust and sex. When he straightens, I wonder if I should go to him or turn around and go hide out in my bedroom like the big chicken I am. Davis doesn’t give me a choice, though. With one powerful gesture he shoves the door and slams it shut with a bang.

Oh shit.

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