Blind Warrior (The Weavers Circle 3) - Page 43

He glanced at Jo to find her watching him, her eyes still sparkling with some inner mischief. He lifted an eyebrow, and she grinned at him as if she’d read his mind.

Oh shit, could she read his mind?

If Grey had gotten his powers from her, it was definitely possible. He quickly turned his attention to Calder, who was now forming small balls of water over the pool. They looked like bubbles. Bubbles, that was a good thing to think about. Safe. He glanced at Jo again to find her watching him, and he felt heat creeping up his neck again.

He got the feeling he hadn’t fooled her at all.

Still, he watched the others and began to feel like he’d left reality. It was all overwhelming, this knowledge of magic and creatures trying to kill them. He’d always been a calm person, secure in the world as he knew it. And here he was learning that nothing he’d believed was true, that magic existed, that there were goddesses who existed—that a man could make water tentacles, and another could shift into animal forms.

He sat perfectly still even as panic filled him. It washed through him like a dark wave, and he tried to hide the feeling from Jo even as he knew she was too shrewd to miss it. Her next words proved it. “Grey, I think Cort has had enough of our little magic show tonight.”

“You tired, Cort?” Grey asked, sitting forward. “Why don’t you take me back to my apartment? I’m exhausted.”

“I thought we talked about you getting around on your own,” Cort teased, though he had a hard lump of fear in his throat.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay, then.” Cort stood and tried to smile at Jo, knowing it was tight and probably showed all the crazy thoughts tearing through him. “I enjoyed meeting you very much.”

“Such a polite man. Yes, you’ll do. You’ll do wonderfully.”

Again, he had no idea what she meant, but he was getting used to not understanding what anyone was saying. He took Grey’s arm and led him toward the stairs in the garage. Grey’s muscles were firm under his hand, and he tightened his fingers, finding a grounding he needed desperately.

Grey was silent all the way into the apartment. He shut the door, shed his jacket, and turned to face Cort while a few steps away. “I can practically feel you vibrating with some kind of heavy emotion. What is it?”

Cort stared at him, trying to form what he was feeling into words. All his emotions were backed up as if they were trapped by a dam that would break at any second. He opened his mouth, then closed it, sure everything would just come spilling out in a flood. He closed his eyes, opened them, and reached out to flip on the light in the dim apartment.

“Cort?” Grey walked to him and put his hands on his shoulders. “Talk to me.”

The pressure in his chest made it hard to breathe. “It’s all too much! The magic and the pestilents. It just hit me that everything I’ve ever known has been turned upside down. My whole reality has been…shattered.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in. Just breathe for a second. Can you do that?”

Cort took in a deep breath, but that dam just seemed rickety and ready to burst. He began to pant as colors swirled before his eyes.

“Shit, are you having a panic attack?” Grey tightened his fingers on his shoulders. “Look at me and try to breathe.”

“I am fucking breathing. Hard. I can’t believe this. Those…things are really trying to kill you, possibly kill me now. They have wizards and there were goddesses out there and you can read minds—”

“I can’t read yours, I told you that.”

“Nothing is the same!”

“Oh man, come here.” Grey pulled him into a hug.

Cort wrapped his arms around the man, feeling his warm body, and he slowly felt the panic easing. Solid muscles pressed against him and he leaned into the embrace, soaking up the comfort Grey offered.

“I’ve got you,” Grey whispered. “It’s going to be okay.” He pulled away and stared at Grey before Grey came in close again and reached up to place his hands on either side of Cort’s face.

This time, his lips slid over Cort’s, and his belly clenched with instant need. Heat swept through his body and he clasped Grey’s arms, holding him tight to his form. Grey’s tongue glided over his lower lip and he opened for the man, groaning in the back of his throat as that tongue slid into his mouth. Grey tasted of beer with a hint of something deeper, something sweeter than the finest desserts.

Cort flicked his tongue along Grey’s, and Grey moaned and slid his hands down to cradle the sides of Cort’s neck. He pressed his body into his. Cort felt the hard ridge of Grey’s cock, and his need flared into flames of lust that licked through him. Cort wrapped his arms around Grey, his fingers spreading over his shoulder blades. He wished the clothes were gone, wished he could feel all that hot flesh against him.

Tags: Jocelynn Drake, Rinda Elliott The Weavers Circle Romance
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