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“I don’t care what it is. I just need something to take the edge off. Those people at the meeting alternated between boring and creepy. I’m so glad I didn’t sign up for that craziness.”
“Did you ever have the opportunity?” He twisted the lid from the bottle and picked up a plastic cup. “I thought your mom put the brakes on that when you were a toddler.”
“She did, but that didn’t stop Dad from checking in occasionally to see if I wanted training.”
“Training?” He poured the wine for her and handed her the cup. Then he sat on the very edge of the bed.
“According to my father, we come from a long line of very powerful brujos. He thought I was wasting my heritage.”
“You have to be trained?”
“Oh, sure, it’s like anything. The latent power or talent may be there, but if you don’t know how to develop it you’ll never reach your potential.”
“Sort of like a school for witches?”
“More like homeschooling.” She sipped the wine and closed her eyes as the warmth spread throughout her limbs. “Let’s give it a rest—for now.”
She placed her cup on the nightstand and rubbed her hands together to warm them up. Skimming her fingers along the base of his neck, she asked, “Do you want me to give it a try?”
His broad shoulders rolled forward. “Sure.”
She dug her fingers into his warm flesh and kneaded. “Feel good?”
“Feels great, but you’re the one who was slammed into a building tonight.”
“My nerves are still a bit jumpy, but the wine will help with that.” She dug the heel of her hand into the top of his shoulder. “And don’t worry because I don’t make a habit out of self-medicating.”
“I’m not worried. I can’t imagine you being addicted to anything.”
Except you.
Wasn’t the definition of addiction having a compulsion for something you knew was bad for you, but indulging anyway? That summed up how she was feeling right now.
She knew Eric wanted her again. He said it with his touch, with his eyes, with his willingness to join her on the bed.
But he wouldn’t be here if he knew the truth. Was it so wrong for her to enjoy one night with him before reality came crashing down around both of them?
“Ouch!”
“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“It hurt so much, it felt good.” He let out a long breath. “I don’t know how you have so much power in those long, thin fingers of yours.”
Leaning over his shoulder, she flexed her fingers. “It’s magic.”
He caught her wrists and pulled her onto his lap.
She widened her eyes. “How am I going to massage your back from here?”
“I have other body parts that are more in need of a massage.” He quirked his eyebrows up and down.
She snorted. “Where did you learn that line?”
“You mean, it didn’t work?”
“Did I,” she said as she straddled his thighs and draped her arms around his neck, “say that?”
He put his hands around her waist, pulling her closer. “I always was a smooth one with the lines.”
The kiss he planted on her lips had the effect of ten glasses of wine as warmth flooded her body. She leaned into him, deepening the kiss, exploring his mouth with her tongue.
It felt as if the two years they’d been apart had never happened. The taste of his mouth, the pressure of his thumbs on her rib cage, the way his beard scratched her chin—the feelings rushed back in, overwhelming her.
He fell onto his back, whether from the enthusiasm of her embrace or his own desire to position her body on top of his, she didn’t know or care.
Their legs dangled off the edge of the bed while their torsos met along every line. His hands swept beneath her blouse, spanning her bare back. He unhooked her bra, and then his fingers crept toward the waistband of her skirt. He felt for the zipper and slid it down.
He rose to his elbows beneath her. “Can we stretch out on the bed so I don’t lose circulation in my legs?”
She rolled from his body into the stack of pillows crunched against the headboard. “I don’t want you losing circulation anywhere.”
Chuckling, he sat up and pulled off his motorcycle boots. Then he pulled his black T-shirt over his head and threw it over his shoulder.
She crossed her arms behind her head and smacked her lips.
“What am I, a piece of meat?”
Her eyes roamed over his bare torso and zeroed in on the bulge in his tight jeans. “Mmm, yeah.”
He grabbed her legs still hanging off the edge of the bed, and swung them around so that she was stretched out on top of the bedspread. Her skirt gaped open where he’d unzipped it before, and he pulled it over her hips and down her legs.
