Page 238 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Just because it had happened, didn’t mean he had to act on it. Maybe the bond would disappear if they never saw each other again, but he had no one to ask.

Except Kass.

Kassidy Robinson. Birthday: April. He was twenty-two. And he’d probably freak if he knew Bailey had been out underage. He seemed like that kind of laced up, law-abiding person. No doubt his credit card was already cancelled, and the theft reported to the cops.

He sniffed the wallet; sure Kass’s scent was still in the leather. The thought turned his lungs into butterflies, and for a moment he wanted nothing more than to be back in Kass’s embrace.

Would it be wrong if he went looking for him?

And what? Confess to stealing his wallet? Lying about being a shifter? Yeah, an Army bitch wouldn’t want a career crim for a mate.

Being bound to a witch only brought trouble, pain, and eventual death as the witch stole his life and magic. He was lucky he’d gotten away fast, before the witch did anything else to him. The only things Bailey wanted done to him involved much less clothing. His lips curved. He was awake but the witch could still do something for him…

He slid his hand into his pajama pants and gave himself a stroke.

Then the kettle in the kitchen started singing, and from his bed he caught flashes of Gran in her dull pink dressing gown as she made breakfast.

It would be nice if she shut the door after waking him. Hell, it would be better if she didn’t wake him at all. It was Sunday, and he wanted to sleep in. For every other day he had an alarm.

He pulled his hand out of his pants. But thoughts of Kass weren’t easily shaken. There was always the shower as long as he didn’t take too long, or she’d bang on the door.

He sniffed the wallet again, trying to hold on to the moment before the kiss when there’d been attraction and nothing more. Did Kass like him or had he been looking for a shifter?

It didn’t matter as one kiss had ruined everything. He tapped the leather against his palm. He needed a new wallet, something better than the cheap nylon one he’d bought. He’d keep this part of Kass for himself.

“Are you coming to church?” Gran called.

Fuck church. He was going to have some fun with the cash he kept from last night.

He’d go to the movies with his friends. Find out where the base was and have a sticky beak—not to see the witch. Anything to get out of there and forget what was waiting for him if he let himself become comfortable and accept his fate.

He wouldn’t end up like Gran, owing favors to the slick men in suits who made demands and gave thin promises of safety. Everything they had was because they were allowed it, and it could be taken away in a heartbeat.

There were worse things than the government and witches.

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