Page 28 of Too Cursed To Kiss
Her reply was cut off by the arrival of a great presence. There was no other way to describe the towering man shifting weight to a cane, who’d entered the room. He was easily six-foot-seven with linebacker shoulders, but despite the cane, he moved with a grace that had nothing to do with his frame. He looked human too, but there was something about him that was off. His purple-blue shirt matched hooded piercing eyes framed with double-thick dark lashes. I actually batted mine at him before examining his shiny brown loafers. He extended his hand.
I took it and gushed out, “Harlan, pleased to meet you.” Before he asked. Except for the height, he looked nothing like Wald. Perhaps genetics worked differently in their race. I don’t know what I was expecting, but Wald’s parents looked human to me.
“Charmed.” He held my hand as if it were a shell on the beach. His voice was rich and smooth like an aged cognac with charisma that flowed off him like nectar. I looked at our connected hands and couldn’t pry my gaze away until he let go.
“Maverick,” he said as I took a step back to clear my head. I was trying to find a not completely rude way to tell him he was an asshole for not giving Britannia a choice when Britannia slunk into the room. Her black pantsuit covered her from ankle to wrist in a flowing fabric that wafted around her curves. She weighed way less than she deserved to with those hips and tits. She threw me a tight-lipped smile, flung back her long dark-brown hair, then plopped into a chair by the window.
I took a step toward her, my fingers snapping into fists. Wald stepped in front of me.
His mother’s voice soothed and redirected my attention. “Waldemar, perhaps your guest would like to freshen up while you change for dinner? Lisa has readied the Magnolia Room.”
Of course they had rooms with names.
“Thank you, Mother,” Wald said, wrapping my arm around his. I attempted to shake him off, but he held on, so I broke into a fake smile, digging my fingernails into his arm, hoping his parents didn’t notice.
We got to the sweeping staircase before I shook him off. “What the hell did you tell them?”
“That I was bringing home a friend.”
“You used the termgirlfriend?”
“I did, actually, yes. It occurred to me to be an excellent reason for my father to agree to my plan.”
“Your plan? What plan?” I shouted. Shushing me, he picked me up and raced up the stairs as if I weighed nothing. When the shock of his manhandling me so effortlessly wore off, I tried to wiggle out of his hold. At the top, I bit his shoulder. He growled then dropped me on the floor of the upstairs hall—well, half threw me. I landed on a hip, the skirt of the pink dress flew up, and covered my face.
“You should have worn the pink panties,” he said, tromping past me. I reached out a hand to trip him, and he kicked it off.
I scrambled up, rubbing my throbbing hip. He’d already made it to the end of the hall. I raced after him and tackled him about a second after he opened the door.
He turned around, caught me mid lunge, dragged me through the door, then shut it behind him, and locked it.
Breathlessly seething, I choked out, “How dare you throw me on the floor, or pick me up in the first place, and not tell me the plan? Open that fucking door.”
“Be my guest,” he said, moving away from the door. I stomped over and turned the lock, but then I stopped with my hand on the handle. Where would I even go? I needed his help to clear my name. I was not going to jail, and there were people chasing me. Would they kill me? The motion of something hitting the bed made me turn. It was his jacket. Shortly followed by his shirt. His pale bare chest gleamed with an otherworldly softness, like moonlight. Hip bones jutted out above his waistband. With the sunglasses on and the leather pants hugging his hips, my heart skipped.
Just my type, dangerous as hell.
His four-poster bed was canopied with heavy burgundy drapes and big enough to sleep a family of five. One wingback leather chair sat in a corner, a couple of dark wood night tables on either sides of the bed, and a glossy mahogany armoire with four doors taller than I was filled most of the left wall.
I began to pace in front of the armoire, desperate to avoid the gorgeous elephant in the room looking at me with mirrored sunglasses and pursed lips. “Any witches in your wardrobe?”
“You bit me,” he snapped, rubbing his bare shoulder.
I stopped. “You threw me on the floor.”
He crossed the room in two strides. My breath caught as the scent of musk and leather flooded me. He was either going to kiss me or kill me. Anger boiled over from my aching hip and being trapped in this miserable position where I had to rely on him. I swiped at his sunglasses, and they flew onto the floor. He stilled like a predator. His eyes fired gold, and his lips parted. I slid my hand around the back of his neck and pulled his head down to me.
The wet heat of his lips and the taste of fresh forest air melted me. I couldn’t get close enough. He scooped me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Then, with something close to a growling purr, he walked us to the bed and laid me back on it, breaking the kiss. I writhed under him, pulling him back down. The raw muskiness of him made me want to crawl inside of him. My fingers slid up his chest as he straddled my thighs, turning me liquid. I tugged him down for another kiss, but he grabbed my wrist and abruptly sat up. My breath caught as his yellow eyes slitted.
“If you ever bite me again, Tails, be sure you mean it,” he purred, holding the wrist over my head but loosely, as if he wanted me to test his hold, then plunging his glorious tongue back into my mouth.
I pushed him back. “So I should bite you again?” I whispered.
“Shut up, Harlan,” he purred, dropping his weight on me. I lifted my hips, grinding them into his. I gasped into his mouth as he massaged my breast, and it popped out of the cheap push-up bra. His other hand snaked under the skirt of the dress, and I raised my hips to meet it. Every part of my body was tingling as if waiting for the next step. I tugged at the waistband of his leather pants. I was more than ready toscrew him. If we got sex out of the way maybe I’d be able to think straight. Well, differently.
Then the laughter began.
Wald stiffened and sat up. My skirt was at my waist, and one tit was hanging out of my dress.
