Page 54 of Sweetwater and the Witch

If Ethan did not respond, she would rip free of the embrace and lock herself in the bathroom for the rest of the night. That way she would not have to spend the next few hours in the presence of the most frustrating, infuriating, compelling man she had ever met.

But Ethan did respond. That changed everything.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ethan’s mouth locked down on hers with an intensity that shocked her senses and sent them sparking and flashing. She could not read all of his emotions—maybe they were as chaotic as her own—but there was no mistaking the hot energy driving his response.

He pulled her close and tight. She was shatteringly aware of his fierce erection. He was hard all over. Sensual tension charged the atmosphere. There was no doubt he wanted her.

The knowledge that she had such a strong effect on him was exhilarating. She was old enough and smart enough to know that the physical evidence of desire signaled lust, not love, but it was more than enough for tonight.

He groaned, raised his head, and lifted her up off the floor. She gripped his shoulders to steady herself and wrapped her legs around his hips. Fabric ripped. She knew she had done some major damage to the narrow skirt of the little black dress, but she didn’t care.

She managed to free her mouth. “For the record, there is nothing wrong with your kissing technique.”

He gripped her bottom to hold her in place, turned, and carried her toward the bed. “Your technique is damn good, too.”

She considered informing him she had never kissed anyone else with so much energy, but he was standing her on her feet and she got distracted. He turned her around and lowered the zipper of the dress so that the upper half crumpled around her waist.

He spun her back around so that she was facing him and used both hands to ease the garment over her hips. It fell to the floor, leaving her in the dainty bra, silky panties—and sneakers. She had time enough to reflect on the awkward fashion statement, and then Ethan was sitting her down on the edge of bed.

“I’m no Prince Charming,” he said, “but I can handle a pair of sneakers.”

She wanted to laugh—a real laugh this time, not the wild laughter of a moment ago. A laugh of pure delight spiced with sensual anticipation. But she was so consumed with sensations now it was all she could do to breathe.

He crouched and untied the laces of the sneakers. She kicked off the shoes, extended her arms behind her, and flattened her palms on the bed. She leaned back and watched him unbuckle his leather belt. His eyes were molten amber.

She could no longer resist the intoxicating fire in her blood. The pleasure of knowing her talent didn’t scare him or even make him nervous pushed her to the edge. She succumbed to the impulse to exercise her psychic side.

She pulled a little talent and created a shower of fireworks. Ethan paused in the act of unfastening his shirt and watched the sparkling rain of paranormal fire wink in and out of existence.

He smiled a slow, wicked smile. “That’s just for openers. Things are about to get a whole lot hotter tonight.”

She returned the smile, savoring the prospect of uninhibited sex with a man who wasn’t intimidated by a fire witch. A man who didn’t want to conduct experiments on her. A man who wasn’t trying to use her to secure personal data on his business rivals.

Ethan’s phone buzzed. He stilled. So did she.

Chapter Twenty-Five

His first impulse was to ignore the damn phone. Ethan looked at the offending device. It buzzed again.

“Shit,” he said.

Ravenna smiled. Not the sultry, inviting smile of a moment ago—more a rueful-acknowledgment-of-reality smile.

“Priorities,” she said. Amusement, regret, and understanding infused her voice and illuminated her eyes. “You and Jones and your grandfather are trying to catch a bad guy. We both know you have to answer the phone.”

“Yeah. Damn it.”

He stalked to the table, scooped up the phone, glanced at the screen, and took the call.

And just like that, he was refocused on the mission.

“Got something for me already, Jake?” he asked.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched Ravenna lean down from thebed to recover the sexy black dress. He reminded himself she had been a profiler for the FBPI. She knew something about tracking bad guys. He put the phone on speaker so she could listen to the other side of the conversation.

“It didn’t take long to work out the code,” Jake said. “Whoever he was, he was not very creative. Maybe he was in a hurry or worried that if he overcomplicated the ink art he wouldn’t be able to decipher it himself if it became necessary. Whatever, I’ve got the coordinates.”

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