Page 20 of The Bairwick Witches
Schuyler sat up when Issac used“we.”There were many interpretations of the word, and he felt a lump grow in his throat—how did Issac mean it? He’d held at bay a sobering truth since they made the date: that this one evening would be all he got. Sometimes, the Goddesses were kind, and now a potential week and some change unrolled out in front of him—and thiswe.
“It must be in my room, but I decoded the list of items needed. They said you’d know where to find them. So, will you help me, Schuyler?” Issac beamed the perfect smile at him again. “If you can’t, or don’t want to-”
“No,” Schuyler shook himself out of a stupor. “I will happily help you.”
They talked for an hour, through another round, and most of the conversation rested on Issac’s lack of magical knowledge. Schuyler realized he needed to teach him a lot of the basics. As far as first dates, this had been a great one, Schuyler thought as they exited the tavern. He gave a sly wink to the cat on the sign.
Their conversation remained light and easy, never a dull lull or awkward moment. There were flirtatious glances when their eyes locked. Their hands hit against each other every so often, and neither were quick to move away as they walked down the sidewalk, heading back toward the Inn where Issac had taken a room.
“I like it here,” Issac affirmed, “it’s calming.”
“Like you’re meant to be here,” Schuyler stated warmly with a silent double meaning.
Issac’s emphatic agreement with the multi-layered observation confirmed both.
“It’s the land,” Schuyler explained, “or maybe the lake, no one had ever been sure. The Elders were drawn here, to this source of great power, aligning and connecting all witches who are within its bubble. We’re at peace here. Out in the mundane world, we’re constantly dealing with stupidity and prejudice,fighting to fit into a society that wasn’t created, nor will ever adapt, with us in mind. It’s a struggle to exist in the noise of that societythey’vecreated.”
“We could fix all the problems with magic,” Issac offered up.
And they’d still burn us at the stake.
Schuyler realized the truth could rob Issac of the witchy fun the newbie was having. And though it could not be avoided, it didn’t need to be shared at that moment. He offered instead, “Magic isn’t as much of a fix-all as you’d think, but that stuff doesn’t matter while you’re here in Bairwick. After one full night, you’ll feel the difference.”
Issac swayed his hips and danced ecstatically in place. “I feel different already So, right… um… I was wondering.”
Schuyler heard the telltale sharp crackle signaling a torrent of energy about to be unleashed. He spotted the alley opening about ten feet from where Issac stood still dancing. Schuyler grabbed his date’s arm and quickly spun him around, adding to the dance, moving them both into the opening of the alley, narrowly missing a sparking purple lightning ball which struck the ground a few feet from where they had been standing.
Schuyler pushed Issac up against the brick wall of the Inn, getting as close to the young man as possible, only an inch of real space between them. Sky’s left arm swung out, his hand tracing three giant circles in the air before stopping over their heads. The three circles trailed behind, lowering down over them quickly and creating a bubble.
In the street directly next to them, two male witches fired at one another. The colorful blasts from their shots slammed into the surroundings and each other, raining down on the bubble.
“It’s okay, they’re just dueling,” Schuyler said, more annoyed than scared but enjoying the closeness. “And apologiesfor the tight quarters; the smaller the area, the stronger the shield.”
Issac looked up at the blues, greens, and purples bombarding the shield, the sounds of angry yelling and threats in the background. “It’s pretty.”
“They could have killed us. There are places for dueling.”
“I think those are the guys from the bar,” Issac said, turning his face from looking out to meeting Schuyler’s gaze. Their eyes locked. Schuyler’s lips begged to inch forward. His right hand remained on the brick wall behind them, but he wanted to move it, rub the back of Issac’s neck and gently pull him closer.
“And they’re dueling because?”
Schuyler rolled his eyes and sighed. “One of those assholes touched too much Dark Magic, is probably possessed and hungry for power, which explains why they’re duking it out on the street. It’s how witches deal with their issues.”
A third muffled voice joined the duelers, pink sparks joining the fray.
Issac watched out the bubble’s distorted view; Schuyler studied him, the curve of his cheek, the bridge of his strong nose, the freckle beneath, still wanting to be kissed. Issac turned back, looking up at him, and Sky was certain he’d been caught lost in admiration. He tried not to shift or move. He could feel the pressure of Issac’s body against him where their bodies met. How he wanted to pull him closer. The scent of Issac’s intoxicating citrusy cologne filled his nose. Schuyler hovered, his face right by Issac’s cheek, as they watched more witches joining the fight, sending a cavalcade of sparks against the bubble.
Their faces were shaded in the rainbow-colored sparks that flashed the bubble’s interior like disco lights. Issac lifted his hand to caress Schuyler’s cheek. “You’re so handsome,” hewhispered, their proximity allowing Schuyler’s lips to feel every pat of breath the words arrived on. Issac leaned forward. Their lips met. He pushed back, his hands on Schuyler’s chest. “Should come up to my room, the list is there.”
Schuyler kissed him again, unable to resist any longer, desperate for the duel to end.
Issac crawled softly across the ornate four-poster bed which occupied the center of the room and laid himself down; face nestled against the smooth, cool pillow. His lips flushed and plumped from a marathon round of kissing.
Schuyler’s hands spread across the young man’s well-defined shoulders, running down his smooth back, caressing the delicate curve of his lower lumbar until his fingers reached the tight band of his white briefs. Schuyler paused, enjoying the sight of Issac’s symmetrically perfect rear—raised in anticipation—restrained by the taught threads of crisp white cotton. He buried his face in the fabric, nuzzling, licking, pulling on the briefs gently, allowing the fabric to slide down slowly, admiring every newly exposed inch of tanned skin before they were stripped away completely.
He cupped the undies in his hand and huffed the pair deeply, Issac’s scent intoxicating, then let them fall to the floor while returning his attention to the splendid derriere before him. Schuyler knew Issac wanted everything their evening could offer, he’d said as much on their way up to the room. While happy to oblige, Schuyler also knew there was time ahead of them—no need to rush—no need to check off the whole menu on the first night.
He stepped back from the bed admiring the ass wiggling in anticipation. The candlelight caught the peach fuzz layeringIsaac’s well-defined cheeks, thickening closer to the center. Seeing the naked beauty on his stomach, willing, ready, he almost didn’t believe his good fortune. Schuyler massaged handfuls of the perfect globes, slapping and teasing until they spread, opening for Schuyler to behold. He buried his beard on the tenderest of spots in the center of the valley and softly brushed it back and forth.
