Jackie Kessler - The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance 2

Her head swam. Aaron had no business being chivalrous, not when she was already on the precipice. He needed to be a jackass, a pompous jerk who thought the world revolved around himself. “You don’t have a car,” she said.

“Well, I’ll put you in a cab.” He squeezed her hand, once, then snatched his hand away. “If you don’t want to stay with me, can you go back to Paul and Jesse’s and stay there overnight?”

She shuddered. “Ugh, no. Jesse didn’t even wait for us to leave before she started attacking Paul.”

Aaron’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “They were still dressed when we snuck out of there.”

“A temporary condition, I promise you.”

They shared a laugh.

“Stay,” Aaron said. And Caitlin agreed — but only for the night. And as long as Aaron took the bed; she’d take the couch.

As Caitlin finished her coffee, Aaron put the memory box on the table. He’d grabbed it before they had made their unobtrusive exit — carefully ignoring how Jesse was eating Paul’s face — and he’d carried it tucked under his arm as he and Caitlin walked to the coffee shop. Caitlin had noticed Aaron’s fingers brushing it as she worked on her latte, saw his lips move silently. Now she stared at the ornately carved wooden box, and she marvelled how something so small and so beautiful could be so dangerous.

Aaron slid the box over to her.

“I fixed it,” he said quietly. “It got all messed up when Jesse opened it, but it was easy enough to nudge everything back into its proper place.”

Caitlin arched a brow and said nothing.

“It’s just a memory box,” he said. “Nothing nasty inside. No wicked surprises. It’s for you.”

She looked at Aaron, scanned his face for any hint of deception. What she saw made her feel horribly sad and tired and, damn it all, hopeful. She saw not the arrogant man but the young warlock she’d married, the man she’d once thought she’d love forever.

“Caitlin,” he said. “Trust me.”

And she did. With trembling fingers, she opened the box.

It’s a summer night in the park, and grass is tickling Caitlin’s bare feet as the tree leaves make music with the wind. She is eighteen and immortal, and she’s intoxicated with the power of participating in the coven’s circle. Thirteen witches, sky-clad in the moonlight and linked hand in hand, sing their praises to the Hecate, thanking Her for the gift of magic. Aaron’s hand is so large, it swallows Caitlin’s completely.

After, as the coven members dress or pair off to make their own sort of magic, Aaron and Caitlin linger in the clearing. His hand is still in hers, and he presses her knuckles against his lips, his tongue darting between her fingers. She blushes, both from the attention and from the way heat blooms in her breasts and belly. It’s been two months since she and Aaron have started dating — two months of sweet kisses and curious hands, of a slow awakening of her body. She’s not a virgin, but the boy who had taken that piece of her had been rough and uncaring. That boy had dumped her a week later to move on to the next girl, leaving Caitlin to wonder what she had done wrong.

Aaron is far from uncaring. In the eight weeks they’d been together, he’d made her laugh and made her furious. He is as passionate as she about magic, and he is funny and smart and sexy. But he is also cocky and arrogant, completely sure of himself even when he has no idea what he’s talking about. Caitlin had been stunned to discover that she liked that about him. and even more stunned when she realized that he liked her as well.

Their first kiss still makes her lips tingle even after two months.

They had gone slow, with him letting her set the pace. Trust built, and attraction deepened, bringing them to tonight, to this moment — to Aaron, naked in the moonlight, kissing her hand and flicking his tongue against her knuckles.

Nervous, eager, she smiles at him and leads him across the clearing to a more secluded section of the park. She finds a spot near a cluster of trees, private and yet inviting, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders and stands on her tiptoes as she pulls his head down to hers.

The kiss begins softly, tenderly, as Aaron embraces her. His mouth is warm against hers, and she slowly melts in his arms. Now his tongue is nudging between her lips. She opens her mouth to him and his tongue rolls against hers.

His hands leave her waist to travel up her back, caressing, stroking. Warmth turns to heat as she feels those touches in other places, small sparks along her arms and chest and lower.

Caitlin moans, but the sound is eaten by Aaron’s kiss.

Now his mouth is moving down her jaw, her neck, along the curve of her shoulder, his kisses damp on her skin. Back up along her throat, and now the shell of her ear, licking and teasing, kissing and nibbling, making her pant.

She wants this — just her and him, together, tonight. She wants him to touch her all over. She wants to explore his body and discover what he likes — what he loves.

She wants him.

Caitlin lowers her arms until they’re circling his waist. As he’s kissing along her jaw and her other ear, her hands move lower until they’re skimming along his bottom. Lower still, until her fingernails graze the backs of his thighs.

His erection pokes her belly.

“Caitlin,” he whispers in her ear, his voice husky. “Tell me. Tell me when to stop.”

One hand still playing along his backside, she reaches up with her other hand to cup his chin. Her gaze locked on his, she says, “Don’t stop.”

He licks his lips before he asks, “You sure?”

“I trust you.”

Something dances behind Aaron’s eyes — excitement or arousal or maybe something else completely, and he says, “I trust you too, Caitlin.” And then his mouth is on hers again, pressing hard now, bruising her lips with his own. Lower now, down her neck again until he’s licking between the swells of her breasts.

Caitlin is breathing heavily, her chest thrust out, feeling her body flush. Aaron’s mouth latches on to her nipple, and her knees buckle. He catches her, supports her back as his tongue licks that sensitive nub. Now the other nipple, coaxing it until it’s as hard as its twin.

Deep inside her, something begins to coil, a delicious ache that quickens her breathing and makes her say his name.

His hand leaves her back, glides its way along her hip until it’s resting on her belly. And he’s sucking her nipples, first one and then the other, now kissing the swells of her breasts, mouth and tongue working against her skin. His fingers stretch down, whisper over her pubic hair.

She’s rocking against him, panting, telling him with her body to do more. The ache within her increases to an insistent pressure, building as his hand moves farther down — slowly, so very slowly. Too slowly.

“Aaron,” she breathes. “Don’t stop.”

His fingers slide between her legs, and she gasps. He’s inside her now, probing, stroking, and she’s bucking against him, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. And then he hits a spot that makes her blood catch fire. The coil winds tight tight tight. and she cries his name as the orgasm takes her.

Aaron slides his hand out, and now he’s lowering her to the ground, and she barely feels the grass along her shoulders and back and bottom because she’s still floating in bliss so sweet she never wants it to end. She hears something tear, like foil, and she looks up to see Aaron fumbling a condom over his erection. She tries to imagine which spell he’d used to make it appear out of nowhere but her mind is foggy and her body is pulsing with aftershocks, and Caitlin can’t really think at all.