Page 21

Chapter 21

Luckily we didn’t encounter a soul on our way in. Bastion entered the code to my apartment, unlocked the door and the scent of home welcomed me. Something in me eased.

‘Have you got some healing potions handy?’ Bastion asked.

‘Of course.’

‘Good. I’ll do it in the bathroom. Bring the potions.’

Do what in the bathroom? I hastily pulled out my strongest healing potion from the fridge, grabbed some brushes and followed him. He was moving the bathroom mat to one side. Without a hint of self-consciousness, he kicked off his boots and socks, unbuckled his trousers and pulled them off. He still wore tight black boxers and I tried hard not to stare. He folded his clothes neatly and stepped into the bath .

His eyes flashed gold and his right hand shifted into his talons. With a glance at me, he rolled up the bottom edge of his boxers to expose the rune on his inner thigh and I suddenly realised what he was going to do. Before I could object, he used his talon to slice off the flesh of his inner thigh. The runed flesh fell to the bottom of the bathroom and blood poured from the wound.

‘Bastion! I could have just painted an ezro! ’ I complained.

Before I could approach him with my potions, he shifted into griffin form to start the healing process. I gaped a little at the sight of a huge griffin squashed into my bathtub. ‘Why did you have me bring healing potions?’ I asked in exasperation.

‘Just giving you something to do,’ he explained cheekily.

I was amused – but then I realised it wasn’t my humour I was experiencing but his . My eyes widened as I stared at him. ‘I can feel you!’ I gasped.

‘I should hope so. I’d be disappointed if I’d just sliced off a pound of flesh for no reason at all.’

Bastion shifted back to his human form and stood in my shower wearing his black T-shirt and boxers. I let my eyes rove over the muscles of his thighs; not a mark remained of the gruesome wound that had been there moments before. No wonder griffins were such fierce warriors; with healing like that they hardly needed to fear any wounds, bar a killing blow.

‘Amber, if you don’t stop staring at me like that, I’m not going to be held responsible for my actions.’

I felt the stirrings of arousal: his, not mine. ‘We have time,’ I murmured. ‘Come and be irresponsible with me.’

‘Temptress.’ Bastion reached down, grasped the bottom of his T-shirt and peeled it over his head. He stared at me, his gaze hot as he saw me admiring the hard lines of his chest. ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘Let’s be irresponsible – but after we’ve cleaned up here.’

He turned on the water on and washed away the blood. I felt the skin under my collar grow hot as I watched him scrub the bath. Honestly, something was wrong with me: there shouldn’t have been anything remotely sexy about Bastion cleaning my bath.

I grabbed the superfluous jars of healing potion, took them into the kitchen area and put them back into the fridge. I held the fridge door open for a few moments – I needed to cool down.

Bastion padded out after me, still in his boxers and nothing more. I appreciated his lack of clothes; the man was model-fit. I hoped I wasn’t visibly drooling as I watched his corded muscles flex and roll when he moved.

‘Wine?’ he asked as he sauntered into my kitchen.

‘Champagne,’ I countered.

‘What are we celebrating?’

I thought of Melva. ‘That we’re alive.’

He nodded gravely. ‘Yes.’

Bastion pulled a bottle out of the fridge, opened it expertly and poured two flutes of champagne. He brought them over, handed me one then slid onto the sofa and took a sip from his glass. I felt his enjoyment as the cool bubbly liquid slid down his throat. I gulped, hard.

‘I can feel that you enjoyed that,’ I whispered, eyes wide. Every time he’d feel pleasure, I’d feel it too. I’d know exactly what he liked and he would know the same about me. Oh boy.

His eyes smouldered. ‘I know.’

I swallowed hard and knew that he wasn’t feeling trepidation from me as he might once have done. Instead he could sense my excitement, my desire.

I took a sip of my champagne and sat next to him. I was breathing a little more heavily, my heart beating a little faster. I was suddenly aware that I was wearing entirely too many clothes compared to Bastion.

He was making himself as non-threatening as he could. He’d removed his weapons and his clothes, and he was waiting patiently, letting me make the first move if I wanted to. He was taking ‘no pressure’ to a whole new level.

What I wanted, though, was for him to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me more than I could recall wanting anything else ever. I looked at him and hoped that I was communicating that to him somehow. It had been twenty long years since I’d last been touched. I wanted it to happen but I lacked the confidence to seize the moment. I needed him to make the first move.

I met his eyes. ‘Please,’ I begged softly.

Bastion’s eyes darkened. He took the champagne flute from me and set it down on the table then studied me, as he was wont to do. My chest was rising and falling a little too fast. He missed nothing. His hands slipped under me and he effortlessly lifted me so that I was straddling his lap.

I could feel his desire, not just in the hard warmth nuzzling against me, but in a roar inside my own body. My own desire was shouting just as loudly; it was taking every bit of self-restraint within me not to chuck myself at him like a groupie at a concert. But I wanted this to be good, to be right. We only get one first kiss; we’d delayed it for so long that it had to be perfect – a standard I had no doubt Bastion could attain.

His eyes were dark brown, flecked with hints of his shifted golden eyes. Those eyes that missed nothing flicked down to my lips and I felt the steady thrum of his emotions through our bond. There was more than desire there; I sensed his affection, his loyalty, and an underlying current of something more, something I was too scared to label.

Achingly slowly, giving me plenty of time to pull away, Bastion lowered his lips, softly to mine. My eyes closed as I pressed my lips to his in answer. The kiss deepened as our tongues tangled and a delicious shudder ran through me. I moaned aloud. It felt like his tongue had a direct link to the heat between my legs.

As the kiss continued, something within us ignited. A mutual hunger burned between us, our connection amplifying every sensation, sending us into a maelstrom of heat and fire.

I felt his quandary moments before he forced himself to pull away. ‘We should go slow,’ he managed.

I could feel his desire, voracious and hot like mine but tempered with the need to be respectful, to take care of me, to do this right. ‘Fuck slow,’ I responded firmly, pulling him back down to my wanton lips. I had never been so sure of anything in my life. I kissed him with all the passion and need that was coiled within me.

His chest vibrated as he laughed silently. ‘I can do that,’ he promised teasingly.

‘Thank the Goddess!’

‘Are you sure, Amber?’ he asked, studying me.

‘Yes.’

‘You can tell me to stop at any time and I will. Straight away.’

‘I know.’ I paused. ‘I won’t though. I’m done waiting. If we went any slower, we’d turn into a glacier. Kiss me,’ I demanded.

‘Yes ma’am.’ His lips found mine again. This time, I wasn’t letting him pull away.