DOUBLE TAPPED
Graham
As much asI hated the idea of inviting more supernatural bullshit into my life, I had that sickening feeling that if I wanted to keep Maggie close, I’d have to suck it up and take it. That shit was attracted to her just as much as I was, only it wasn’t just attracted to her—it was in her blood. And part of me—yeah, the dumb part—wanted to utilize her in every aspect.
My hand tightened on the wheel as the icy gravel crunched under the tires. We rolled up to the manor, the headlights catching the edges of the fog looming in from the woods before flickering across the house.
“Looks like Hunter’s back from his ride,” Maggie said, pointing to the mountain bike chained to the front porch.
I snorted. “Guy can’t stick it in the garage? That thing probably costs more than my cabin.”
“It does,” she said with a teasing grin tugging at the corner of her mouth.
I shot a look to her. When did she go to my cabin?
“It’s got electronic suspension. Hunter said it’s the highest-performing XC bike he’s ever had—whatever that means.”
Of course he did.
I rolled my eyes. My jaw clenching at the thought of Hunter. It was shit like that that rubbed me the wrong way. Why was this guy trying so hard? Maggie didn’t care if he had money or not… unless that goddamn obsession spell rewired her taste too. Maybe the obsession was eating him alive, making him show off just to try and keep her looking his way.
The cold nipped at her cheeks and brought out her freckles—just like it did the first time I laid eyes on her. Hunter wouldn’t be the first man to lose his dignity over her. I didn’t even need the fucking spell. All it took was a glance in my general direction and my dick perked up like a hound dog on the scent of a rabbit.
Maggie reached for the door handle.
“Don’t even think about it.” I put my hand on her thigh, my pulse reacting to the heat of her skin. “I’ll carry you.”
“You don’t have to—” Her voice followed me out the door, but before she could finish, I was already around the car and reaching for her.
“You know…” She wrapped her arms around my neck as I scooped her up. “It seems like every time you bring me home, you end up carrying me over the threshold.”
“Wanna walk?” My eyes darted to her ankle.
“No.”
I closed the door with my hip and carried her to the house and up the steps.
God, feeling her against me… the way she just… fit… it made everything inside me come to life again.
I loved how her hair brushed against my jaw when I carried her, and how her strawberry shampoo seemed to linger even after she left a room. Whatever bound me to her still hummed under my skin like static, an ache settling in my chest—and it hurt. I didn’t have some joke or one-liner ready. Nothing felt right.
Yeah, I wanted to carry her over that damn threshold every day. I wanted to drink her in whenever I could. Wake up to her beautiful face, come home to her voice. Maybe one day I’d get to do it for real. But right now, being this close again only reminded me of how easy it used to be—before I gave in to bullshit… before Ileft.
It was like we were never apart. Like we just picked up where we left off. Except, I still held the guilt of leaving her weighing on my heart, and she… she had a completely justifiable grudge and a hundred and sixty pounds of regret weighing her down.
I opened the door and carried her into the foyer.
“Hunter?” Maggie called. “You home?”
“In the study, love,” he said, his voice scraping every raw nerve. “Be right out.”
I set her in the chair and took a look around. The manor was the same but different. She’d settled in nicely. But I couldn’t tell if this was a hundred percent her doing. The house had a sort of bondage-holiday situation happening. Not necessarily Christmas, but more… drunken Renaissance festival meets BDSM orgy in the woods complete with twinkling fairy lights. Even the plants were strapped in leather and hanging in front of the window like it was their time to shine in the dungeon of love. The scent of candy canes and leather filled the air… like Mrs. Claus and Santa got caught being extra naughty with the elves just before Yuletide.
Jesus Christ.
There was a visual I didn’t ask for.
“I see you… redecorated.” I nodded to a statue of two girls fighting over one guy’s dick.
