Page 13 of Witchbane
“Both? Sex, then cake? Or cake, then sex? Or both at the same time. Not sure how that would work but I’d figure it out.”
His husky laugh made me smile, and I fell asleep hoping for dreams of Liam covered in bits of cake and delicate frosting.
Liam did wake me up earlier, rewarding me with slow sex, that even after coming twice, my body still sang with need for him. “I shouldn’t still be hard,” I complained as I got in the shower. The bathroom of the camper was too tiny to fit the both of us. Liam leaned in the doorway looking at me, the expression on his face soft and needy. The way he looked at me sometimes… I didn’t think he realized that he did it, more that sometimes his need, maybe even his wolf’s need, was raw on his face. And I was everything he craved. It was empowering and terrifying all at once.
“Fuck, I want to get back in bed with you,” I told him, but turned the water on. He opened the shop three days a week, shifting his schedule around to keep us from running opposite all the time now that I worked late shifts at the tea shop. Today was one of those days.
“Your after-sex capacity for language never ceases to amaze me,” Liam snarked.
“Can’t help it you’re fuck worthy. You make me poetic. In the sailor sense,” I said hurrying through a wash, but leaving my hair out of the spray. I didn’t want to have to wash it, untangle it, and have to braid it again. I’d left it braided. While my hair wasn’t the same tight curl as my mother’s, it was coarse and thick, bushy if left to dry by itself without products. “If I could live inside your skin with you forever, I would.”
“That’s romantic in a creepy,Hannibal Lecterkind of way.”
Liam watched me shower, his gaze half lidded, arms folded over his chest, leaning against the wall looking more like a sex god than an alpha werewolf.
“Wow, not helping,” I told him, feeling like I could explode any second.
“Yeah? How do you want me to help? Maybe turn off the water and let me take care of that? Then I’ll brush my teeth. We can get moving, and you can make cake?”
“Cake…” I muttered, or Liam on his knees. Okay Liam first. I turned off the water and headed for my mate, enjoying the promise in his eyes.
Chapter 4
Once we arrived at the bakery, I was surprised to find a touch of queasiness in my gut. It hadn’t become a regular thing for Liam and I to arrive together. We’d been on opposite shifts for a while. But I knew everyone at the bakery well and the tea shop would open in an hour. Anxiety or illness? Hard to tell, as most of my life it had been anxiety. Maybe I was worried about meeting up with Al and not telling Liam. Secrets weren’t something we did. But I also didn’t want him to start his day off cranky because I was trying to fix a rift in the pack.
Liam opened the door for us and we were greeted by the normal crew. He had a few more morning staff now that they were doing additional pastries. He’d been enticing people over from the big city by offering better wages and a long list of benefits. I thought working at the bakery and getting all the free pastries a guy could eat, was a pretty good perk. Sleeping with the boss was up there too, but only I got that benefit.
My phone buzzed with a text notification and I glanced down at it.
Out back.
Right, secret meeting with Al. That meant making sure Liam was busy while I slipped out the side. Since he was always sort of hyperaware of where I was, I texted back,Give me a few.
I felt bad about sneaking around, but it wasn’t like I was having some romantic encounter. I did, however, need to clear up the mess that was tugging on our pack.
Liam donned his apron and made his way to the back counter to set up his kneading station. Bread was an endless cycle of mixing, kneading, and proofing. My mate had the most amazing hands. I could watch him knead for hours. Even better if he was kneading my ass or something.
Liam raised a brow in my direction. My fault. I’d been staring. I couldn’t help being obsessed with him, he was my mate.
“Keep doing what you’re doing,” I told him. “Don’t mind me.” I took up a station in the back corner near the rear employee door. It was far enough to keep me out of everyone’s way, but also close enough that I knew Liam wouldn’t worry about where I went.
I spent a few minutes sorting out ingredients and ideas for what to make before checking to make sure everyone was distracted and busy. Since they were, I slipped out the side door into the dark of the early morning.
Al stood leaning against the side wall near the dumpster. If he hadn’t been standing half in the pale overdoor light, I’d not have seen him at all. He was good at keeping to the shadows. It was part of how his kind survived.
Vampires haunted life a lot like ghosts. I wondered if it was because they were only a shadow of life? Living only through blood shared from donors, willing or not. Either way, I’d never gotten the sexy vibe most romance novels tried to give vampires. To my sensitive nose, dead was dead. And while vampires didn’t smell like rot, they didn’t smell alive either. They weren’t warm and vanilla scented, and they sort of sent my senses on high alert.
ADanger! Danger!warning always flashed in my head. Odd, how at first, I hadn’t understood it. Not until Hugo had pulled his kid-lure scheme.
Al smelled a bit of grease, car parts, and gasoline. He worked nights in Sean’s garage, so that made sense. But it did help mask his undead absence of real living smells like blood and body odor.
He was a bit willowy, thin and rangy, covered in tattoos. He was wearing a jacket over everything to blend in since the weather was cold. His dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a knit cap over the top. He could have been any guy. Some metal music fan or whatever. I didn’t know the extent of the tattoos he had, but had caught glimpses of them rising up the side of his neck and covering his knuckles.
People had stigmas about tattoos. Having a lot of my own, I knew that from experience. It didn’t matter much that my tattoos were wards of protection and warning built up over years of studying and trials. People didn’t stop to ask the meaning unless they had tattoos themselves. It was better to avoid conversations in that direction anyway. Mine were easily hidden under clothing, nothing peeking out beneath my collar or cuffs. But I didn’t think much about me said “metalhead” either, like Al’s vibe did.
He was handsome in a lot of ways. Face all angles, and large dark eyes. He was narrower through the shoulder and hip than Liam, though not by much. Honestly, if most people asked who was better looking, it would be a toss-up. I’d pick Liam because he was mine. He had that sort of movie star handsome of classic movies, while Al’s looks teetered on the edge of bad boy and ethereal. Part of his vampire charm, I assumed.
I guess I could see why Sean was into him.