Page 39 of A Brighter Yellow
“About what?” She was confused.
“My family has always told me I could be anything. I am supposed to be amazing. And as a result, nothing I have ever done has ever felt good enough. What are the benchmarks on stupendous? I need more than just…go be remarkable! Like I even know what the hell that means. But at least no one ever told me Icouldn’t. Whereas I think no one ever told you that youcould. You’ve never been allowed to be anything but a wolf and a very narrowly defined one at that. And I have to say that really fucking pisses me off because I think you’re incredible, and there’s nothing you can’t do.”
Anna felt tears prickle her eyelids. “I don’t feel like I can do anything. I feel like my life is just one road-block after another.”
“That you bulldoze right through,” he said with a grin. “Because you are amazing.”
“Just break their stupid spell,” said Anna, blushing. She had no idea what to do with his compliment. “I can be amazing later.”
He laughed and shook his head. Then he laid down flat on the grass to concentrate on the rock. Anna watched as Ochre worked his way through the spell, his brow furrowed in concentration. If she’d been here on her own, she would have been stuck trying to sneak in the front door or simply fighting her way in.
Every step of the way on this damn adventure, Ochre had been there to help. And it wasn’t like she’d made it easy for him. She didn’t know how to share because every time she’d tried to share before, someone else had tried to take over. Only that wasn’t Ochre. He wasn’t trying to be the boss. He was trying to do what he’d told her he’d do—help. And he thought she was amazing. Why was she so intent on pushing him away? Why was she being stupid? He was smart, kind, and fucking great in bed. He was also a vegetarian. OK, that was unfortunate, but surely they could work around that. Ochre was wonderful. And beyond wonderful… he felt right. He felt like he was supposed to be hers. Even when she’d been fixated on Liam, he’d never felt like he belonged to her. Or that she belonged to him either. But Ochre felt different from everyone else. He felt strangely perfect—even when he was pissing her off. Why was she trying to fight what was so clearly a good thing? Why was she so scared?
Anna realized that she was going to have to say something. She would have to tell him what she was feeling because she couldn’t risk him not knowing. Anna took a deep breath. Was this the right moment?
Abruptly the stink of warlock magic dropped to nothing. It was replaced with the wafting, delicious scent of Ochre. She really didn’t think he should be allowed to smell that good. It was unfair. How was she supposed to concentrate when he smelled like that? Plus, his ass was kind of in the air, and she really did kind of want to put a big ol’ nibble on it. But that only led to thinking about the previous night when she’d been in his arms, and the stars had seemed to dance for them. Had he felt that too? She wanted to touch him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him. She wanted to feel that sense of perfect rhythm and connection every moment of the day.
“OK,” he said, standing up, and putting his hands on his hips, staring down at the spell stone in satisfaction. He turned around and looked at her. His eyes went wide in surprise, and then he took a step backward, tripped, and fell flat on his back on the grass.
Startled, she rushed over and bent over him. “Are you OK? What happened?”
He giggled in response.
“Ochre!”
“You’re so gold,” he said.
“I don’t know what that means. Why are you being weird?” She huffed at him impatiently. Here she was thinking he was perfect and that she should tell him how she felt and now he had to ruin everything. Why was her timing always so bad?
He reached up and, thinking that he wanted help up, she put her hands down to assist him. Instead, she found herself pulled over on top of him. She made what would have been a shocked expletive if he hadn’t then immediately kissed her.
Episode 19
Fields of Gold
Anna
“Ochre,” she managed to protest, but only just before giving in and kissing him back. He roughly yanked her shirt up as he rolled her onto her back. “Ochre!” she squeaked in surprise as he planted his mouth on her breast but then groaned as he toyed with her nipple in his mouth.
“Gold,” he reiterated, lifting his head long enough to look her in the eye. She knew this was her moment to protest, but he was right—everything was gold. He seemed to pulse in her vision, and she could feel his heartbeat like it was the bass beat in a club.
She blinked in confusion. What the hell had just happened? He put his face back down into her cleavage, and she moaned in satisfaction. His tongue was making little circles of delight around her nipple while his hands roamed her skin. She slid her palms along his back and dug her fingers into his hair. She wanted him to lick…
No. They were doing things? They were supposed to be going…
His mouth worked down further, making her tingle. The sun felt unbelievably hot on her skin. Or maybe that was Ochre.
She realized that it had probably been thirty minutes since they took Charlie’s spell pills. Had Charlie been working on some sort of love spell? Maybe Anna had taken the wrong pill? She tried to focus on that, but she found her thoughts slipped away like sand in the face of oncoming tide. Everything was Ochre. He burned and scorched and left her breathless.
The pills were supposed to protect her from warlock magic, not make her want to jump Ochre like a horny teenager. She moaned, and he readjusted and kissed her. His mouth was rough against hers, demanding and seeking, and only once she gave in did he soften and mold to her. He was perfection in mouth, hands, and body. Every part of her seemed to fit against every part of him.
It was similar to her feelings of the previous night after they had finished—the sense of intimate, perfect closeness. But last night, it had been bound up in the feeling of satisfaction. This was raw and urgent, demanding action, demanding that she be with Ochre. She needed him, to be with him, and to connect on a primal level.
He found the drawstring on her pants and pulled the tie with a quick yank. Moments later, he had her bare-assed on the grass, pants somehow wriggled off her hips. She meant to push him off of her and give him a stern talking-to about timing, but instead, she found her hands tugging at his shirt, trying to get him naked so his skin could be on hers. He complied, sitting up and stripping it off, flinging the shirt onto the grass, and unbuckling his belt. Then he dove downward, pushing his face between her thighs.
“Oh God, yes,” she said and spread her legs. Or attempted to. Her legs were still tangled up in her pants.
“Ochre,” she complained, trying to kick out one leg. Instead, he laughed and put a hand on her pants, using them to pin her down. Then he wedged back into her lap and licked her again. The fabric was taut across her legs, and his weight held her in place. She struggled and panted as his tongue worked against her clit. She moaned and tried to open her legs further; the tight feeling of the fabric across her thighs was driving her mad.
