Devon Monk - Magic to the Bone

After a long pause, I realized I had made a mistake. He was going to say no. Maybe the kiss in the car and the kiss outside the deli had all been one-sided—had all been me assuming there was an attraction between us that was not there.

“I’m sorry,” I said reaching for the T-shirt next to me. “I thought you wanted—”

“No,” he said, cutting me off. “I do want.”

Those words seemed to decide something for him. He finally moved. He let go of the doorjamb he’d been holding onto and snapped his fingers. Jupe lifted his big head and thumped his tail on the hardwood floor.

“Out,” Zay said. He snapped again and pointed to the living room. Jupe yawned and dutifully walked out of the room, like he and Zay had been buddies for years instead of hours.

Nola had left Jupe here to guard me, to keep me from sleeping with Zay. Probably because she thought getting serious with a man I barely knew wasn’t a good idea. But Nola hadn’t had everything in her life go to hell. She hadn’t been chased, hurt, accused. She hadn’t gotten sick from watching a little boy almost die, hadn’t had her father lie through shared blood, hadn’t overdosed on magic to try to fix a stranger’s stab wound.

She hadn’t told her father for the last and final time that she hated him, then had him die on her before she could say she was sorry.

Zay quietly shut the door and padded across the room. He paused and stood in front of me.

Electricity trembled through me. I reached up and placed my palm against his chest, my hand a ghost of ivory against the darkness and heat of his skin. I drew my palm slowly down the tight muscles of his stomach and paused at his waistband.

“I want you,” I whispered.

He leaned toward me and I leaned back, lifting the covers so he could come with me to this soft and sacred place. He waited as I tugged off my sweatpants and panties. I waited as he pulled off his boxers. In all the time since he had come into the room, and it felt like hours, days, he had not yet touched me, had not yet kissed me.

And I so desperately wanted him to.

Zayvion lay beneath the covers beside me and finally, finally, drew his hand up my hip, my ribs, and over the curve of my breast. I shuddered in pleasure. He brushed his thumb over my nipple, paused to circle it gently. I moaned and met his lips with my own.

Desire echoed through me and I trembled with need. I tangled my legs with his and leaned back, bringing Zay on top of me, the weight of his strong, wide body pressing me into the soft embrace of the bed. He lowered his head and gently bit the hollow of my neck. Electricity flickered through me, wicked and warm, pooling between my thighs.

I was hot, needful, hungry.

I dragged my nails up his wide, lean back. I pushed my fingers into the thick curls of his hair, savoring the texture of him, and coaxed his lips down to mine. He breathed gently against my cheek, then finally, finally, his lips cradled mine, soft, hot. His tongue slipped sweetly into my mouth, seeking, stoking my passion. With every stroke of his strong, masculine heat, need rose in me. High. Higher.

The scent of pine, of musk, the salty-sweet taste of him, wrapped me, filled me.

I wanted more. More of him. All of him. I wanted this to never end.

Heat and pleasure stretched me, filled me so full, too full.

More.

I arched up, pressed against him, wrapped around him. The sliding heat of fire licked through me, growing, spreading, pulsing, until all I could feel, all I could want was the aching hardness of him within me.

Yes.

Zay shuddered. Hot waves of pleasure broke and poured through me, tumbling me over the edge of desire and gently down, down to the soft, welcome warmth of his body against mine.

It has never felt like that before, I thought as he lay against me, sweating and heavy, my legs still tangled with his. It has never felt so right.

I might have drifted off to sleep, or maybe I just lost track of time. But I eventually noticed again the ticking of the clock in the living room, the smallness of the room around me, and Zayvion.

He rolled away, leaving a final kiss on the top of my breast before taking up half the bed by lying on his back. I shifted to my side and put my head on his shoulder and my arm across his chest, not ready to lose contact with him yet.

We didn’t say anything. Even though his breathing was soft and even, I knew he was awake because I could hear the flick of his eyelashes as he blinked.

And while I did not know why he was still awake, I knew what was keeping me up.

I couldn’t believe I’d just slept with him. Not that it wasn’t wonderful. Okay—fantastic. But now I didn’t know what to do. Nola was right. I had a long history of falling into bed with men before I knew them. And I did not really know Zayvion.

It would be crazy to fall for someone who was hired to stalk me—who maybe still was stalking me. After all, he had a remarkable knack of tracking me down when things went terribly wrong. He was a wild card in my suddenly too-wild life.

Other than stalking and maybe spying, I wasn’t sure he even had a job.

He might be following me and doing all these nice things because I was rich. Richer now that my dad was dead. If he got in good with me, he would never have to work again in his life.

Maybe he had this all planned and wanted to get me out here where I couldn’t defend myself with magic.

Okay, that was crazy. He’d told me he didn’t kill my dad, and I believed him.

Pull yourself together, I thought.

I wished I’d made the dog stay.

I wished I’d gone back to sleep.

“Zay,” I said.

“Mmm?”

“I need to ask you something.”

He shifted so he was on his side, facing me. “So do I. Let me start, okay?”

“No. Me first,” I said. “Are you here because you want the money I’m going to inherit?”

He paused on an exhalation and stiffened. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No. I want to know if you want my money, or if you’re angling for a hand in the business—Beckstrom Enterprises.”

He closed his eyes. When he opened them, all the warmth and laughter was gone. “Is that what you think? That I did this to manipulate you?” He was angry and probably had every reason to be.

“Yes,” I said. “No. Maybe.” I groaned and flopped over on my back. I couldn’t think straight. I pressed my fingers over my eyes. “I don’t know,” I said through my palms. “It’s just happening so fast. I don’t know if I can handle this. Us. Whatever we are.” Hells, could I sound any more pitiful? “You don’t want the money, do you?”

He didn’t say anything. I waited, but all I heard was his breathing, slightly elevated, like he was still angry. I finally pulled one hand away from my face and peeked over at him.

Predawn light fingered through the slats covering the window. It was pretty, I suppose. It lent enough light for me to watch Zayvion’s expression close down until none of the warmth and passion of a lover showed in his eyes. Until he was calm, controlled, closed. Zen.

“I don’t want the money,” he said with such quiet and control it actually spooked me. “I don’t want control of the company. If this is going too fast, then I’ll give you some time to think about what I do want.”

He reached over and brushed my bangs out of my eyes. His thumb glided across the mark of magic that curled at my temple, and I found myself longing for the coolness of his touch. Something deep in my bones responded to him, drew toward him whenever we touched.

“What are you?” I whispered.

There was a knock at the door, then Nola’s voice. “If you two want to put some clothes on, I think you need to come out to the kitchen and see this.”