Page 18

Chapter

Eighteen

LOGAN

W hen I arrived at the shop, it was to see Bridgette engrossed in a book. She had a few others stacked beside her on the counter, and she barely looked up when the bell rang above the door. After locking the door and turning the sign to CLOSED, I glanced around, not knowing what I was looking for. Maybe I expected to see some of the fairies dancing around, I didn’t know, but it wouldn’t have surprised me.

Shaking my head, I walked up to the counter with a duffle bag slung over my shoulder. I let it drop to the floor with a thud, grinning when Bridgette jumped.

“Hey, babe. Reading anything good?”

Before she could answer, I reached around her waist, planting a hand on her back, and yanked her into me. She crashed into me with a laugh. “Hello there, Detective.” Then she raised up on her toes and kissed me. It was deep and slow, taking her time, showing that she missed our time apart as much as I did. When she pulled back, her expression looked almost dazed. I knew the feeling.

I saw her look down at my hands, then at the floor, before looking back up at me. “Where are my tacos?”

I scooted the books she had been reading to the side, then picked her up, setting her down on the counter so we were a little closer in height. “I’m having them delivered. Should be here in about thirty minutes.” I glanced around. “Do you need to clean up before we head upstairs?”

She grinned at me. “I’m a witch. Did you forget already?”

I tilted my head as I studied her. “Let me guess. You have a spell for that?”

“Close. The whole shop is spelled. The floors stay clean. The windows are always clear. The shelves are always dusted. My grandmother did it years ago. It’s kind of nice. I still have to rearrange some things that get out of place, but actual cleaning? Nope.”

“That does sound nice,” I grinned back. “What about dishes? Vacuuming? Laundry?”

She sighed and pouted. “My mother insisted that I learn to care for myself and my home properly. She forbade me from using magic to complete my chores.”

“You still do everything by hand as an adult?” I asked skeptically. I couldn’t imagine anyone doing mundane chores when they had the ability to skip it all with little more than a snap of their fingers. Well, I assumed she snapped. I was certain she didn’t wriggle her nose.

She looked sheepish. “Are you going to tell my mother on me if I say no?”

I chuckled and kissed her forehead. “Never.”

“Good,” she said with a grin. “I’d have to rethink this whole mate thing and turn you into a frog or something if you turned snitch on me. Now let me down so I can show you which drawer I emptied for you. I had to rearrange my sock drawer by the way,” she pouted, the hint of a grin teasing her lips, letting me know she wasn’t nearly as irritated by losing drawer space as she was letting on.

I stepped back and picked up the duffle bag. “I am deeply honored.”

She sniffed and lifted her chin, doing an excellent impression of a haughty princess. “As well you should be.” She slid the apron she was wearing over her head, then scooped up the books she’d been reading. As we walked into the back room through the doorway, she turned the lights off, then hung the apron on a hook where a few others already waited.

She led the way up the stairs, where the door was closed. When she opened it, a blur of black sped past, running down the stairs and only sparing a disgruntled meow as he passed.

“He seems angry. Do you usually lock him up here during the day?”

She set the books down on the small coffee table. “No. But he wouldn’t stop making a fuss, pacing and yowling. I had to bring him up here so he would stop freaking out so much.” She shook her head. “I wish I knew what his problem was.”

“Maybe he misses your grandmother?”

She frowned and headed into the bedroom. “Maybe.”

I stepped in behind her, and she flashed me a smile before sliding a drawer open, revealing the emptiness. “All for you. Don’t ask for more, though,” she warned. “This place is hardly big enough for just me.”

I dropped the duffle on the floor. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” I lied. Eventually, our lives would be so intertwined that she wouldn’t be able to tell where her things ended and mine began. Instead of unpacking the duffle, I stalked toward her and watched as she suddenly became aware of my movement and began to back away. There was nowhere to go with the bed behind her, though.

As the backs of her knees hit the edge of the mattress, she tipped backward with a yelp. I took full advantage of her situation and dove on top of her until I had her caged in underneath me. I kissed her lips briefly, then her cheek, making my way down her jaw and to her collarbone. By the time I was pulling the neck of her shirt to the side to gain access to her shoulder and chest, she was panting as if she’d been running laps.

“Do we have time before the tacos get here?”

I glanced at the clock on her nightstand and cursed. I placed one last lick and kiss on the top swell of her breast, and mourned the fact that I hadn’t even made it to the best part. “No,” I groaned. “We’re picking up where I left off, little witch,” I said as I climbed off her. I reached for her hands, pulling her to her feet beside me.

“I hope so,” she grumbled.

“Tacos or my tongue?” I offered, unsure which one I currently preferred, even as my stomach rumbled. I hadn’t had a chance to eat lunch, and I was starving.

She seemed to be thinking about it pretty hard, but then I heard her stomach growl as well. I laughed, then tugged on her hand, leading her back into the living area. “I promise to give you my tongue just as soon as we fill our stomachs.”

Right on time, I heard a knock on the back door leading to the alley. “Fine. I guess I can eat tacos first.” She dropped down onto her loveseat as I headed for the stairs. After paying the delivery guy with a hefty tip, I carried the bags back to the stairs and paused, seeing the cat pacing back and forth, his tail twitching with agitation. Shaking my head I took the stairs two at a time to see Bridgette had brought out two plates and a stack of napkins, along with two bottles of beer.

Together, we spread out the tacos, figuring out who would take which ones, then settled back to watch a movie while we ate. We’d both had our fill, so I stood up to gather our mess.

“I’ll help,” Bridgette said, picking up the plates.

I put the last two tacos in her refrigerator while she washed the plates, setting them to dry in the dish drainer. I threw the bottles in the recycling bin and leaned against the counter with my arms crossed, watching her wipe down the counter.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

She glanced over her shoulder with a smile, then turned to me after drying her hands. Bridgette reached out for my hand, and I didn’t hesitate to give it to her.

“Come on,” she said. “There’s something I want to try.”

Intrigued, I followed her into the bedroom after turning off the lights in the living room as we passed.

“Have a seat,” she pointed to the edge of the bed. I raised one eyebrow, waiting to see what she had in mind.

“Are you going to put on a show for me?” I asked as I sat where she indicated and looked her over from head to toe. One thing I’d noticed about Bridgette right away was that she was never in public without looking completely put together. She was currently wearing a skirt with ruffles along the knee-length hem and a top that hugged her curves, which was tied at her waist. She had kicked off her heels as soon as we arrived upstairs, so she was barefoot. “Your pink toenails are adorably sexy, by the way.”

I followed the same path back up her body, then watched as she finished tying her hair up in a messy bun on top of her head. “Thanks. I noticed you still haven’t unpacked yet.”

“I’ll do it tomorrow. Now come here so I can show you how sexy I think the rest of you is,” I said huskily.

“Not this time, Detective.” My breath caught as she dropped to her knees in front of me and slid her palms up my thighs. “I told you, there’s something I want to try.”

“Bridgette—” I started, desperately wanting to feel her hot little mouth swallowing around my cock, but also needing to taste her on my tongue.

“Don’t tell me I don’t have to,” she interrupted. “I really, really want to. And I think you’re going to really, really enjoy this.”

Her nimble little fingers undid my belt and had the button of my slacks popped open before I could argue any further. The heaviness of my cock had the zipper sliding down before she even had a chance to lay a finger on it.

“Wait,” I demanded as my little witch reached for the waistband of my boxer briefs. I reached over for one of the throw pillows that were resting by the headboard. “Stand up.” As soon as she complied, I tossed the pillow onto the floor. “I don’t want you hurting your knees.”

Bridgette knelt back down and beamed up at me. “That’s so sweet.” Then, with my assistance, both my boxers and my slacks were shifted down to my thighs.

Her hands were soft and warm as they wrapped around my length. The way she eyed my cock as if she were fascinated and turned on had a drop of precome oozing from the tip. Before it could roll down the side of the head, Bridgette leaned forward and licked. Closing her eyes, she took in my taste and hummed. Then, before I could fully brace myself, she opened wide and took me into her hot mouth.

I had to bite my lip to keep from groaning. When she bobbed her head, sliding her tongue over the shaft, then swirled over the tip, I had to clench my fists into the bedding to keep from bucking my hips. But when her mouth suddenly got hot nearly to the point of pain, then shot straight to cold as if I had just been dunked into a vat of ice water, I shouted and reached for her head.

Gripping the bun that she’d made on the top of her head, I pulled her off my cock. She stared at me with wide, innocent eyes, though she couldn’t hide the wariness at my reaction. “What the fuck was that?” I demanded.

She dropped her eyes and shrugged one shoulder. “I told you. I wanted to try something.”

“Do it again,” I demanded.

She jerked her eyes back up to mine, then I watched as the worry drained away and a grin took over her stunning face. “Can I try something else?” She asked as she leaned back in, taking another lick of the precome that had started leaking steadily.

“Little witch, you can do any fucking thing that you want. Just don’t stop,” I begged.

With a hum, she held out one hand, and I watched in fascination as sparks danced along the tips of her fingers. Then she gave me a saucy wink as her mouth started to grow cold again. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she slid her icy tongue over the head and down the shaft. I had forgotten about her sparking fingertips until she reached for my balls and lightly stroked, making it feel like I was being shocked at dozens of points by static electricity.

I was so confused. I couldn’t tell if I loved it or hated it, but I was about to come harder than I ever had in my whole fucking life. I hadn’t even busted a nut yet, but I was already about to beg her to start all over again. I supposed that meant I loved the fuck out of what she was doing to me.

I tugged lightly on her messy bun and gritted my teeth as the cold faded into scorching heat again. “I’m going to fucking come.” It took every ounce of my self control to not shout expletives until everyone within a mile radius called in a noise complaint.

Bridgette pulled her mouth off with a pop and slid her hand up from my balls and gripped my throbbing dick with her electrified hand. All the tiny sparks of electricity zapping my cock was just too fucking much. No matter how much I wanted to hold back, to give her more warning, to try to stave it off so I could finish inside her, I was fucking done.

“Do it,” she whispered eagerly, then immediately covered the tip of my cock with her mouth. The ice cold sensation paired with the electric zaps sent me over the edge.

I was reasonably certain I had died for several seconds. It certainly felt like my soul left my body as I pumped rope after rope of hot come into my mate’s mouth. My throat felt raw when I got sensation back into my legs, and I was able to see again.

“Fuck,” I whispered hoarsely and dropped onto my back, my arms splayed wide. I must have fallen asleep because I blinked my eyes open to see Bridgette tugging my slacks down my legs. I noticed groggily that my shirt had already been removed, and she had tossed the extra decorative pillows to the floor. The only thing stopping her from going to bed was my body sprawled across the middle.

“Hang on,” I slurred. “I can help.” I attempted to stand up, but my knees were too weak to hold my weight.

“Don’t worry about it,” she hummed, seemingly quite content to take care of me as if I were a newborn baby. “Just lie back,” she coaxed, gesturing. I had no choice but to do what she said. My head hit the pillow, and my whole body relaxed as she covered me with the blanket.

I was too exhausted to be embarrassed. I was too weak to protest. But as my body still hummed from the aftershocks of what she’d done to me, I couldn’t help but anticipate the next time.