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“And that’s it? No other reason?” Like trying to make me jealous?

As I sat there, looking into those wild eyes, his expression as closed off as it ever was, I knew I was wrong, that I’d read into things, seen things that weren’t there because I wanted it to be true so badly, and my face heated.

His nostrils flared. “No other reason.”

I nodded, feeling stupid. If there was another reason, it wasn’t to make me jealous, it was to sleep with Bree. Goddess, I was an idiot. “If you could gather everything for me, that’d be great,” I said, snatching up my clothes and leaving to clean up.

When I walked back out, he had his shirt on and the candles were sitting on the coffee table, the string and rosemary gathered beside it. He’d packed my tattoo machine as well, and it sat by my bag. I strode over and put everything inside the bag, then turned to him.

My belly was in knots, and the last thing I wanted to do was pull him into my arms and hug him. Well, I did, despite everything, which was why this sucked so much. You’re a goddamn professional, act like it. I looked up at him. “I’ll try to make this as painless as possible,” I said, attempting a lame joke and forcing myself to relax.

“Jaz, about earlier. We made a time. I shouldn’t have let Bree in.”

“Let’s just forget about it. I’m sorry for being a snappish shrew. I had a weird crappy day as well.” I forced a smile. “Now, I just need you to stand there and think of England while I do my thing.”

He frowned. “What?”

“It’s a British saying. Don’t worry. Let’s do this.” I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around him. The hot, hard wall of his chest pressed against mine. His arms stayed at his sides like last time, at the beginning anyway, and I wrapped myself around him and poured my powers into him, seeking out his emotional wounds. I gently wrapped around them, doing what I could to add to the foundation of healing I’d been building.

His body grew hotter, his muscles twitching, trembling. “I’ve got you, Ren,” I said softly. “Everything’s going to be okay. You did nothing wrong. It wasn’t your fault.” The words came to me again, the words his damaged emotional state told my gift he needed. He shook harder, telling me I was right.

“Fuck,” he croaked. “Jaz—”

He tensed, and I knew like last time, it was a lot for him. He was moments from pulling away. “Just a little longer.” A tidal wave of pain and fear, of guilt slammed into me, more powerful than last time, and I bit back my cry of agony.

I whimpered and held him tighter. “You’re almost there.”

“Fuck,” he said again, trembling so hard it had to hurt.

My gift coiled tighter around his emotional wounds, pouring into them, smoothing over some of the jagged edges. Not enough to make a huge difference yet, and Ren might not even notice, but it was a start. A step in the right direction. I thought about the way he’d laughed in the forest. Or maybe it was already helping.

Tears swam in my eyes, my throat aching from fighting back a sob, then it happened, the agony began to recede, and like last time, Ren groaned. He was breathing harder.

“I can’t…I can’t stop,” he said and wrapped his arms around me, one sliding into my hair and tipping my head back. “Jaz, fuck.” His mouth slammed down on mine.

He kissed me.

He kissed me deep, his tongue sliding against mine hungrily. I was locked in his arms, my head held in place by his fist in my hair, so all I could do was surrender to it—give him the release he needed in that moment. This kiss, his hunger, it wasn’t about me, I reminded myself. It wasn’t for me. This was a reaction to the way my power made him feel and the alcohol he’d shared with Bree, that’s all.

But, goddess, it was so good…and so wrong. I could taste the vodka he’d been drinking, and I wanted to shove him away and pull him closer at the same time. This was torture.

“I’m sorry,” he panted against my lips. “But I need to…” He kissed me again, his arms a tight band of muscle around me.

I didn’t fight it. Humiliatingly, I didn’t want to.

Finally, he lifted his head, panting.

I released him and stepped back, my self-preservation instincts still intact, even if my common sense had left the building. “All d-done.”

His gaze went to my lips, and without thinking, I wiped the back of my hand over them, needing the taste of him gone, needing to pull myself back together.

He flinched. “I’m sorry. I…fuck, I shouldn’t have done that. I forced myself on you. I didn’t mean to… I couldn’t stop.”

“It’s…it’s okay, I’m okay. My magic, is strong, things happen.” I’d had more than one client become confused about their feelings for me, the ones that needed multiple sessions could sometimes grow attached.

He watched me for several long seconds, and I could tell he wasn’t sure what to do or say. “I made you cry again,” he rasped.

“That’s all part of it as well,” I said and brushed the tears from my cheeks.