Spell Cat by Tara Lain Page 0,9
he could have used it for a wand—if witches actually needed such things. Witches did have to breathe. He couldn’t remember how. He only wanted to feel that touch. Back and forth. Gentle. Hot as hell.
Blaine leaned in, still caressing Killian’s lip. Have to stop him. Don’t want to stop him. The beautiful face came closer. Killian felt breath on his lips. Cinnamon, vanilla. And then, ever so slowly, Blaine replaced his finger with his tongue. Soft and wet, a form of nutrition Killian hadn’t had in so long. Ever.
He didn’t even try to resist. His lips opened. Sweet gods, his tongue met its match—its reason for being. In one fast grab, Blaine wrapped an arm around Killian and hauled him against his lean body. Killian’s hard cock met Blaine’s like two long-separated lovers. Their wood rubbed together—the bonfire could have lit New York. Blaine’s hands grasped Killian’s ass, forcing him even closer. Killian’s body rode hard against Blaine’s as heat coursed up his spine like a molten river. Needed more. Had to have more.
Purrrr. Purrr. Aloysius sounded like a moan in his ear. He didn’t need any encouragement. He thrust his tongue even farther into Blaine’s mouth, his body so on fire, he wanted to lie down here and take it up the ass. Oh yes, please. How fast could he get his clothes off?
A bell sounded. He froze. Kids’ voices. Gods, what am I doing? I’ve lost my flaming mind. Keep it up, and he’d lose his powers for real, to say nothing of his job. He ripped himself away from Blaine. The green eyes looked shocked but still heavy-lidded. Killian wanted to grab him back and keep kissing. No, damn. He had to get away. Had to save himself—and his race.
He scooped up his briefcase and ran from the lecture hall, not caring if Aloysius was able to hold on or not. Insanity. This was a fucking man. A hu-man. This could not, would not, happen. He might not be able to get it up for a female witch, but he wouldn’t dilute his power, which belonged to his people, by giving his energy away to some human—even if he desperately wanted to. I might be a poor excuse for a Witch Master, but I’m their only hope.
He raced to the side parking space where he kept the sleek Japanese motorcycle. When he got there, he reached up and grabbed Al forcefully, dragging him from his shoulders and dangling him in front of him in space. They’d see who turned whom into a toad. “What was that back there? You gay for fucking humans, cat? Don’t you understand what he could do to me?”
“Merwaooow.”
That cat knew exactly what Blaine could do to him, and it had nothing to do with saving witchery. “Dammit!”
A couple of students passed by. He must look crazy, yelling at a cat. He threw Al over his shoulder and sat on the motorcycle. A germ of an idea kept playing in his mind. It had to work. He was simply too vulnerable because he didn’t have a partner who appealed to him.
His hands tightened on the grips. He needed immunity from the human physics professors of the world. He looked at Al. “I’ve had it. I am going to find someone to fuck. A witch who is reasonably appropriate, assuming anything male is appropriate to the witches’ community. Before they tie me up to some fucking female, at least I can fuck something with a cock.”
“Merwaowr.”
Yes. He couldn’t believe he’d said it either.
Across the street, a camera shutter clicked several times in succession. The cameraman watched the blond tuck his long hair into his helmet and throw a cat, for fuck’s sake, over his shoulder. Then he took off on that motorcycle… like a cat out of hell. Jonesy chuckled at his own joke.
He’d started to pull out his phone when another man came out of the building and watched the motorcyclist’s retreating back. The new guy ran a hand through his hair and then turned and walked away, looking damned upset. Hmm. Wonder what that was about. He grabbed the cell and dialed.
A deep voice answered. “What is it?”
Shit. This guy gave him the stutters. “Yes, Mr. Karonoff, it’s Jonesy. The guy, uh, man you have me following just did the strangest thing yet.”
“What?”
“Well, he’s running around with a cat attached to him.”
“A cat?”
“And he appears to be talking to the damned, uh, darned beast.”
“Interesting.”
“Yes, and when he came out of his