Page 18 of A Hunter Cursed
“You do realize,” Kane said, glancing pointedly at Morgan, “that when Thane Stroud aligned himself with the angels, the Court of Elders brought a war to his door.”
Morgan raised a brow. “Do you care?”
“Hell, no,” was Kane’s grinning reply. “Bring it.”
Destin grimaced. The Court of Elders was the ruling body of Born vampires. A more sadistic bunch you’d never meet, and one more headache they didn’t need. He couldn’t help but wonder if their best-case scenario in bringing in the angels to fight a potential demon infestation might not be inviting an infestation of another – and no less dangerous – kind.
Chapter Ten
Both of them feeling the need to clear their heads, think about something else for a while, Jeremiah and Keegan decided to go for a drive with no particular destination in mind. It was as they were driving by a shop that had a display of mirrors in its front window that Keegan said, “That first day we went out to lunch, you mentioned you don't date much. Why is that?” Waving her hand in dismissal before he could answer, she tacked on, “Oh, I know you mentioned that mirror woman who wanted your money but you're a seriously good-looking guy. You have to be practically beating women off with a stick.”
He couldn’t hold back his grin at her compliment but he shrugged, attempting a modest demeanor though his chest wanted to puff out with pride. “It's tough in a pack,” he told her. “If the relationship goes to shit there's no escape. You're going to see them every day.” Having pulled up to a red light, he turned to look at Keegan. “As for humans, it's not easy to conceal a major aspect of your personality until you’re one-hundred percent positive they can accept you, wolf and all. Add to that, you’re trusting that person not to drop a word in the wrong ear, revealing secrets that would not only endanger you but your entire species. That’s a heavy load.”
The light turned green, and Jeremiah returned his focus to the road ahead as Keegan asked, “What about witches or vampires? They’re already aware of the supernatural world, and would know how to keep secrets.”
“I don't know about the coven, but until recently, the pack kept to itself.”
He saw her nod in his peripheral vision. A quick glance in her direction and the look on her face clearly stated that things had been the same for the witches. No surprise there. Tidy groups clustered in their neat little corners, segregated for decades, possibly centuries, and fine with it. It had been only recently they’d taken those first tentative steps into intermingling.
If Keegan was any indication, he hadn't known what he'd been missing. The feeling of freedom was powerful in that she knew exactly who and what he was and still chose to be around him.
“Pull over.”
The order, spoken so suddenly and adamantly, surprised Jeremiah and had him jerking his head around. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but you scratched that spot again.”
Had he? He hadn’t even realized.
“I need to see what’s going on there and don’t try to tell me it’s your detergent,” she stated mulishly. “If that were the case, you’d be scratching other places too.”
It took Jeremiah a few minutes to find a place where he could safely park his beast of a rig, but as soon as they’d stopped, Keegan’s seat belt was off and she was leaning over the center console to tug up his shirt.
He knew it was inappropriate to laugh under the circumstances especially considering Keegan’s obvious concern, but he couldn’t hold it back, the chuckle escaping before he could swallow it down. “Sorry,” he offered. “But when I pictured you stripping me naked, it wasn’t to check me for a magical rash.”
That had Keegan’s head popping up and a hint of a smile playing around her mouth. “You pictured me stripping you?” She asked with a raised brow.
“At least twenty times at dinner.”
“Wow, impressive,” she smirked. “I only pictured it fifteen times.”
They’d flirted occasionally during their recent outings, growing increasingly bolder, but this was the first time Keegan had said something quite so provocative. Jeremiah wanted to cheer at the progress they’d made. And maybe he’d be burned for it later, but he couldn’t help it. Incredibly pleased with her statement, he gave himself free rein to do what he’d wanted to do since the first moment he laid eyes on Keegan Bishop. Cupping her cheek with his hand, he covered her mouth with his.
Keegan moaned in the back of her throat, her hand fisting even tighter around the tail of his shirt still gripped in her fingers. In her experience, first kisses tended to be awkward – of the few first kisses she’d actually had an opportunity to indulge – more an experiment of too much tongue, too little tongue, until she, and whoever she was kissing, figured out their rhythm. Not so with Jeremiah. It was like he already knew exactly how she liked things and just went for it, full tilt.
It was perfect and her body lit up like a Fourth of July fireworks display in response. Every nerve ending seemed to come alive, begging for his touch. Her breasts felt heavy with need, her lower abdomen clenched, and below that, her core pulsed. If her curse screwed this up… No. She wouldn’t –couldn’t– think about that right now.
Too late. She groaned as reality intruded to burst her bubble of pleasure, and with one last moment of indulgence to sustain her, she pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss. Breathless and needing to swallow hard, she gasped out, “We need to do more of that later.”
Jeremiah’s breath was labored as well, his eyes dilated as he nodded enthusiastically at her suggestion.
“I need to check that spot,” she told him, though, in reality, she was reminding herself. Still, she felt unable to tear her eyes away from his face.
Another smaller nod was his response, his voice coming out a sexy growl as he repeated, “The spot.”
Shaking off her distraction, Keegan steeled herself to get this over with, so that, hopefully, they’d be able to get back to the pleasurable business of making out like horny teenagers all that much sooner. It was crazy, and it was risky, but hopefully, Jeremiah’s theory would hold true and he’d be immune to her curse.Please, she silently implored whoever might be listening.Please let him be immune. Please let me keep him.
Ducking her head, she raised his shirt to examine his belly but couldn’t make much out in the dim light. Popping her head back up she asked, “Do you have a flashlight?”
