Wicked Magic (10 page)

Trent threaded a hand through his messy hair. “Yeah, but
Brenda, that pack isn’t right in the head. Too much violence. You may think
he’s the one, but he’s not. You’re too sweet for an asshole like that, he comes
around again, he contacts you, you need to let me know.”

Sam’s chest squeezed tight at his sincere words. She
bypassed Trent to take her friend’s hand. Brenda stilled but didn’t pull away.
When her roommate looked up and met her gaze, her eyes were glassy with tears.

“I’m sorry if I was being a bitch. I love you, that’s all.”

Brenda sniffled. “Love you too. God, I should have known it
was too good to be true. Just so you know,” she turned to look at Trent, “he
was asking a ton of questions about the bar, about Sam. He said the pack wanted
to move here and he wanted the inside scoop on the town. I didn’t really think
much of it, but most of the time the conversation swung back around to you.”

“Me?” Dread settled in her stomach.

“Brenda,” Trent said. “Why don’t you go pack a bag and head
on over to your dad’s, just to be safe. If you want, I can drop you off there.”

Brenda shook her head and gave Sam’s hand a squeeze. “Nah,
it’s okay. I’ll drive myself. If I don’t see you later, happy birthday, Sam.”
Her friend leaned forward and pressed a soft, tender kiss to her cheek before
pulling away and disappearing down the hall.

She turned and met Trent’s gaze. “I’m glad you told her to
go to her dad’s. She’ll be safe there. The way that guy looked at me…” She
trailed off on a shiver of unease.

Trent crossed the distance between them and cupped her
cheek. He drew her face up until he had her full attention. “You’ve always been
good at trusting your instincts. It was smart of you to call me.”

“’Miah didn’t tell you about the lone wolf?”

He shook his head. “I passed out the moment my head hit my
pillow and he wasn’t home when you called and woke me up.”

Now that the panic had subsided, she took a moment to drink
him in. His hair was tousled and messy. The dark dusting on his jaw had passed
the stubble phase and was quickly becoming a beard. His shirt was on inside
out. The jeans he’d thrown on were wrinkled. His official-ness took a nosedive,
yet he looked sexier than she’d ever seen him.

Much as she’d looked him over, he returned the favor, his
gaze pausing on her skirt, then higher where her tight shirt hugged her braless
breasts. Her nipples hardened.

Heat and electricity shifted between them. He tugged her
close, skimming a hand up her spine before cupping the back of her neck. She
was only faintly aware of Brenda’s bedroom door closing, leaving her alone with
a man who was bound to have an irrevocable impact on her life.

“You need to pack a bag.” His words were a sexy rasp that
played over her skin and moved between her legs.

“For what?” Her voice was breathy and low.

She tilted her head up to meet his eyes. Passion. Lust.
Need. The heat between them was suffocating. She trailed her hand from his
muscled forearm to the knob of his elbow. The gallop of their heartbeats filled
her head so loudly that even if she wanted to think, she wouldn’t have been
able to.

Trent took a single step forward and she took one back,
maintaining the slight gap between them. He growled low in his throat and it
sent a shiver down her spine. Another step and she had nowhere to go. The
length of his torso pressed against hers until she was pinned between him and
the wall. Closer still, he didn’t stop pressing into her until his cock dug
into her stomach. Excitement and anticipation knocked the breath from her
lungs.

“Because you’re coming home with me, babe. Grab what you
need for your little ritual. Once I get you naked and in my bed, you ain’t leaving.”

The dam inside that held everything back cracked under the
weight of sexual tension. Her pussy went wet with need. Trent drew in a breath,
as if he could scent her arousal. Promises filled his eyes as he ran his
fingers down her cheek and over her jaw.

“Trent.”

He shook his head, stopped her with a finger against her
lips.

“I’m sorry about last night. You’re headstrong, bossy and
beautiful. You’re my woman, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make you believe
that. You’re my mate, it’s my job to keep you safe, keep you satisfied.”

He never gave her a chance to respond. Alpha bastard.

The coarse hair that dusted his jaw rasped against her cheek
when he took her mouth in a kiss that sent them both spiraling. Demanding and
rough, he moved his hands over her body.

Mindless to anything except the male body in front of her,
she lost all reason. She threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him
against her as she stroked her tongue against his. When she tilted her head to
the side, their embrace deepened. Trent pressed one hand against the wall
beside her head. He cupped her hip with the other hand, caging her in. He
ground his body against hers, his swollen cock pressing against her stomach
while he devoured her.

He pulled from her mouth, teeth scraping her lower lip.
“Now, pack your damn bag before I fuck you right here against this wall where
Brenda’s gonna get an eyeful when she leaves her room.”

She gazed up at him, star struck at the naked desire
darkening his eyes. She nodded. He released her and she walked backward in the
direction of her room, not wanting to break their connection until she
absolutely had to. She packed in a blind daze. She was slick between her legs,
the moisture leaking from her slit teasing her thighs and reminding her she
wasn’t wearing panties.

Why start now?

The moment she reappeared in the hall with a bag containing
a couple of miscellaneous clothing items, Trent grabbed her hand and pulled her
from the house. Magic gathered between their intertwined fingers and sent a
zinging line of ice down the center of her body.

Where they stepped over the loose, faded green boards, the
porch creaked under their combined weight. Wind caressed her cheeks, bringing
with it the soothing scents of the earth. Even though it was just past six in the
evening, and darkness blanketed the sky, making it hard to see the forest
surrounding her house, the air was heavy as if it might rain again. The
moisture clung to her, made her skin slick and her skirt adhere to her.

They jogged down the front steps, her pack thudding against
her side. Trent’s state-issued vehicle was a shiny black SUV with “POLICE” in
big white block letters. Under it, eclipsed in the white paint was
“INTERCEPTOR” written in black. Some kind of up-scooping metal grate lined the
front and protected the grill and hood. On the roof, just above the windshield
was a bar of lights, red on the left, blue on the right. All in all, very
spiffy. She wondered if he’d ridden over with the lights flashing.

He tugged her to the passenger side, opened the door and
lifted her inside as if she weighed all of ten pounds. The interior, just as
immaculate as the exterior, smelled like him. Clean. Woodsy. She looked around
at the gadgets, the computer screen and rifle in the front seat. A clear
divider separated the back from the front, she guessed for when he had to
transport people—shifters—to the station.

He reached across her body, his warm, minty breath painting
her mouth, grabbed the seat belt and buckled her in. He smoothed his hand up
her thigh, pushing up her skirt ever so slightly before his lips found hers for
a quick kiss.

“Wouldn’t want to get a ticket.”

The ride back to his house would have been utterly silent if
not for the static coming from the radio, codes she didn’t understand
dispersing the quiet. The tires hummed over the highway and the trees lining
the road were a blur. Her pulse, too fast for its own good, thundered in her
ears as Trent expertly navigated the evening traffic. Nerves settled in, only
ratcheting up higher at the hungry look in Trent’s gaze each time he eyed her
bare legs.

“Will ’Miah be home tonight?” she asked when they bumped
over the empty gravel drive, Jeremiah’s truck nowhere in sight.

“Don’t know, don’t care.”

Trent put the SUV in park, shut off the engine and was out
of the car and at her door in the blink of an eye. He unbuckled her belt and
lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist in the same
instant their mouths found each other. Under her skirt, skin on skin, he cupped
her ass and groaned.

Between hot, drugging kisses, he uttered, “You’re fucking
naked under this skirt. You’re going to kill me, Sam, you know that, right?”

They kissed, nibbled and teased the entire way to his front
door. She was only vaguely aware of him locking his SUV and the beep it made,
or him unlocking the entrance of his house to let them inside.

He slammed the door behind them and went straight to his
bedroom. He set her in the middle of the large, sparsely decorated room. Unmade
bed, dresser, single nightstand. He unhooked his shoulder holster, dropped it
to the ground with a thud and started on the button of his Levi’s.

“Take off your clothes, Sam.”

The demand in his voice made her breasts tingle and her
heart kick up a notch. His cheeks were flushed, his hair messier than normal
from her hands. The button came free of the eyelet and denim parted, giving a
glimpse of his cock. He hadn’t bothered with underwear either.

She gripped the bottom of her sweater and pulled it over her
head before letting it fall from her fingers to the dark wood floor. She untied
her skirt and as it dropped she stepped out of her sandals.

He drank her in from head to toe, pausing at the juncture of
her thighs. Her pussy was wet and swollen, ready for him and only him. He moved
quicker than she could see.

A low, rumbling noise thundered from his chest and he
slammed his mouth against hers. He plunged his tongue between her lips and
dominated the kiss. She fell into him, clutching his shirt and pulling him
closer. Magic built between them, connecting them on a level that should have
been scary. He cupped the tender weight of her breast and a sharp spike of need
ran straight to her core.

His hands were calloused, the perfect texture moving across
her sensitive nipple. The need pulsing through her was going to tear her in
half. When he released her mouth she gasped for breath. Feather light, such a
contrast to the frenzied need to mate surging between them, he trailed his lips
across her cheek to her neck.

He wrapped his other hand around her ponytail. The gentle
touch turned forceful. Forming a fist, he tugged, eliciting another needy moan.
Her head was forced to the side, allowing the access he desired. He nibbled her
throat, nipping her skin. She was helpless to do anything except mewl against
him.

Trent slipped a knee between her thighs and guided her
dripping pussy against the hard surface. A gasp followed the shuddering bolt of
pleasure. When his teeth clamped down around her windpipe, she lost it.

Her body was wound too tight. A hard, blinding orgasm
clenched her muscles in bursts of pleasure that made her numb. She rolled her
hips, grinding herself against him harder, and rode out the aftershocks of her
climax.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.” The
rough tone of his voice was the only indication that he was losing control.

In a maddeningly slow pace, he trailed his fingers along her
thighs. Where he touched, the muscles under his fingers quivered.

“You’re mine,” he demanded.

She scraped her nails against neck, whimpered and arched
when he grazed the lips of her sex with his knuckles.

“Prove it.” Her voice was low and husky, full of want and
desire.

He blinked slowly, and for the first time she noticed how
sinfully long his eyelashes were. He applied more pressure against her sex, cupping
her flesh. She shivered despite the raging fire that entrapped them. A tremor
of arousal coursed through her body, jagged, like a bolt of lightning.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it if I have to.”
From the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes, she knew he meant it.

“Yes.”

He slanted his mouth over hers. The urgency between them
grew with each swipe of his tongue against hers. When he pushed, she pulled,
and vice-versa until nothing remained—no thought, only sensation. He pressed
two fingers inside her, his knuckles twisting in and out. Her body clenched
around the invasion and her nails dug into his back, sure to leave red welts in
their wake.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight. So wet.”

Trent stroked, coaxing another climax from the inside out.
Her stomach jumped, coiled. The desperate plea for more came out as a whimper.
Stretching her wider, he added a third finger.

His momentum increased as he tore his mouth away from hers.
His gaze was dark. Through the layer of stubble that covered his jaw, his
twitching muscle was visible. He brushed his thumb across the tight pearl of
her clit and the sensation forced her eyes closed.

“Look at me,” he growled. His deep, low voice set off a
wicked tingling in her pussy.

Her eyes snapped open at the command. She didn’t dare look
away from the stark hunger on his face. It was erotic to know he was watching
her, waiting for her to fall over the edge. Harder, faster, deeper, it felt as
if the floor was disappearing out from under her.

“Trent,” she gasped, his name slipping from her lips as her
body tightened and flexed around his fingers. Forcing herself to look at him,
to watch her orgasm reflected through his gaze and not turn away, made
everything more intense.

Pleasure whipped through her and her knees threatened to
give out. She clutched his shoulders and trusted him to keep her upright. Her
climax hit her hard. Clenching waves of ecstasy overrode everything else. She
cried out at the overwhelming sensations.

Before she could catch her breath, he withdrew his fingers.