Here’s the thing about kissing a guy who has magic humming under his skin mere hours after surviving yet another threat on your life: it doesn’t leave a lot of room in your head for anything like “there might be a better time than this” or “let’s save Gran first and make out later!” or even “you don’t know who you want, you really want to make out with both guys?”
Nope, all those thoughts blew out of my head as if whooshed away with all the force of a hurricane roaring in off the open sea.
Corb’s mouth moved across mine with a silken skill that left me breathless, his siren magic cascading over my skin and calling up images of swimming naked in the ocean with him, of the waves washing against my skin and his lips following the path of the water.
He groaned into my mouth as one hand trailed down my neck, across my collarbone, down my arm, and then skillfully found its way around to the small of my back. He slid his hand under my shirt so he could press his palm against my bare skin.
I pushed myself against him, going onto my toes so I could get even closer. My hands found their way under his shirt, sliding up over his perfect abs to his chest, feeling every inch of him.
His skin was hot under my fingertips and I let my hands drift lower, closer to his belt buckle. Another whispered groan slid from his lips as he grabbed my ass and lifted me to sit on the kitchen counter.
“Better,” he growled as he tugged me to him, our bodies fitting all too well. His hands were at the edge of my shirt, and he pulled it up over my head. His shirt swiftly followed. Pressed together as we were, skin on skin, I couldn’t think past the feeling of his magic rolling through me, or maybe that was my magic answering his. I couldn’t be sure.
What I knew was that this felt like nothing else.
Our mouths barely left each other as we kissed harder and deeper, more frantic with each passing second, his magic pulsing harder through my veins, driving all sense out of my head. I wanted to roll around on him naked in the sand at the water’s edge, wanted to feel the waves wash over me while he pushed into me. A whimper slid out of me, and he kissed it away as I twisted where I sat, feeling him hard against me in every sense of the word.
Nothing mattered but Corb in that moment, him and his body, him and his touch and kisses that were slowly drowning me.
Not Gran.
Not almost dying.
Not finding out that there was a spell that could ruin the world . . . and I might know part of it.
That realization was what slowed me. It was no small thing to pull myself out from under the waves of desire.
And that was why I pulled back. If his magic was making me forget why we were there, then that wasn’t right. I put a hand on his chest, his heart hammering under my palm. My own heart was beating so hard, I could feel the pulse in my neck and other areas that were definitely below my belt.
“Corb, stop,” I whispered even as I planted another kiss on his lips.
He leaned his forehead against mine, kissing his way along the side of my face. “Bree, you undo me.”
A shudder slid through me, and I wanted nothing more than to take him to bed and find out where this tidal wave would carry us—if I could truly undo him. If this feeling of drowning while still being able to breathe would rock my world.
Part of me whispered yes, please.
The other part said I was a fool to even consider it. A romp, it would be nothing more than a romp. He flitted between relationships, and I would just be another notch in his belt. Maybe not right away, but at some point . . . I would just be another past tense girl.
I didn’t need my heart trampled on, not in the middle of a life-or-death situation. I needed to be smart, and that was hard when my body felt like a Niagara Falls of hormones.
Smart. I was smart.
I put both hands on his bare chest and gently pushed him back, much as the rest of my body