Ridge’s arms are warm as he holds me, trailing his fingers over my back. Even though he’s no longer inside me, I don’t want this skin-to-skin contact to end. In fact, I’m positive I could stay right here forever and never want to get out of bed.
But despite the comforting way he’s tracing figure eights on my bare skin, I’m still on edge.
What if this was the catalyst for something just as awful as my transformation? The night the four shifters saved me from my uncle’s grasp, we came together in the mating cabin. Each of the men touched me, worshipped my body, brought me to dizzying heights of pleasure… and it caused a major flare up of my powers.
I can’t say for sure that taking that step with them was what caused my transformation and brought out my witch, but it can’t be a coincidence either. One moment I was burning alive beneath their fingertips, and the next, I began to turn into the very thing they all hate and fear. That speaks to some weird correlation in my opinion, and frankly, I’m terrified it was only the beginning.
What if having sex with Ridge shook me up, metaphysically? What if my powers go haywire and hurt me? Or hurt him?
I
stare at the far wall, basically holding my breath and waiting for the other shoe to drop. To be honest, Ridge seems like he’s bracing himself for something to happen as well. There’s a low level tension humming through his muscles beneath my fingertips. I wonder if he’s having the same worries.
But nothing happens.
Several moments pass.
Our breathing levels out.
I relax against his bare chest and listen to his heartbeat finally slow back to normal. This moment is the most peaceful I’ve experienced in my entire life. I could stay in it forever.
I lift my head and rest my chin on the back of my hand as I gaze up at Ridge. It’s so strange to me to be lying here, our naked bodies flush against each other. A few weeks ago, he was an unknown man who’d picked me up in the wilderness and carried me home. Now… what are we now? Lovers? That would suggest we’ll do this again. And again and again, and God, I hope so.
Maybe even soon. Maybe even tonight.
Ridge smiles, his eyes half-closed with satisfaction as he gazes down at me. With one hand, he grabs my waist and tugs me higher to kiss me. It’s a slow, lazy kiss, filled with the promise of more. More heat, more need, more of his body moving inside mine until I’ve forgotten my name, my age, my voice, what it even means to breathe. When I pull away, we share silent smiles.
A wanton part of me whispers, tell him you want more.
Then we’re kissing again. His arms tighten around my waist, drawing me closer. I slide my leg over his hips and feel his cock hardening. A little thrill runs through me, and I tease him, sliding my thigh oh-so-gently over his erection, already anticipating the way he’ll open my thighs and claim me all over again. I want to drive him to madness until we crash together mindlessly and forget about everything except the way our bodies fit together.
Behind me, the bedroom door creaks.
We break the kiss simultaneously. My heart jolts, doing its best to leap from my chest. I flip over, holding the blankets tight to my breasts as my gaze shoots to the doorway. We left the door wide open. I was exhausted after dinner when Ridge tucked me in, and I practically begged him to stay with me without even giving him a chance to go finish the dishes.
Neither of us thought about closing the door then, and in the blissful aftermath of sex, paying attention to whether or not we closed the door before we got naked wasn’t even on my radar.
Clearly, that was a mistake.
Archer, Trystan, and Dare are out in the hallway looking in, all three of them wearing thunderous expressions that are borderline hostile. The two shifters must have returned from their hunt and stopped by the healer’s house to bring Dare home with them.
Only to find me and Ridge curled up together in a post-sex afterglow.
Ridge rolls away from me, cursing under his breath as his hands root around in the covers. He comes up with my t-shirt and panties, tossing them to me before he goes back to his search.
I tug the shirt on over my head, then yank my underwear on as my cheeks flame with embarrassment to be caught like this. I’m not ashamed of what we did, but the fact we did it while the others were out—and one of them was being healed from painful wounds—does feel like we went behind their backs. Even though that’s not what we did, I don’t know how to defuse the situation.
Ridge gave me my clothes, but he isn’t fast enough in finding his own. He’s still looking for his pants when Dare barges into the room.
Dare moves with supernatural quickness—much faster than he should be able to move, considering the state of his leg earlier today. Camilla really must be the best healer the East Pack has, and while it’s unfortunate she hasn’t been able to save Malcolm, I’m ecstatic to see Dare looking more like himself.
Or, well… I would be if his current self didn’t look so ready to murder Ridge.
His footsteps sound like thunder in the small space, and I swear even the mattress shivers at his rage. He rounds the foot of the bed, grabs Ridge by the throat, hauls him to his feet, and then shoves the broad-shouldered man up against the wall with a vicious, inhuman snarl.
I gasp at the sudden violence, my breath catching in my throat and shock freezing me to the bed.
“You just couldn’t wait to get her alone, could you?” Dare accuses, his tone full of vitriol. “Once you had her all to yourself, you could do whatever you wanted without us standing in your way.”