The Bend-Bite-Shift Box Set Read online

  He shook his head in annoyance when he realized his own thoughts. Did it make him weak that he’d so quickly given over to her, to her demands that she be included every step of the way? Langston trusted her, which meant he should too. No, Langston had little to do with his feelings for her. He cared for her. That was the simple and the not-so-simple truth. He cared for her more than he’d ever cared for anyone.

  His senses engaged when he heard the tiniest of noises, a rustle from across the room. Waiting, he listened further and recognized the steady sound of someone breathing in sleep. He wasn’t entirely surprised when he rolled to his side and saw Devan curled up on the window seat, a blanket tucked up to her chin and her temple resting against the sill. Smiling endearingly, he noticed one foot had slipped free of the warmth of her covers and was dangling off the edge of the bench.

  He moved from the bed and inched towards her before remembering almost too late that he was completely naked. A detour to the bathroom found a pair of sweats from his bag, and he slipped them on even as he hobbled to her again. She shivered in sleep, pulling her foot close to her body, but not able to nestle it back under the blanket.

  “Ah, Dev,” Kent murmured as he reached down to slide one arm under her legs and the other behind her back to lift her up. She opened lazy eyes and looked at him, smiling shyly.

  “I chickened out,” she whispered, nestling her head against his neck.

  Her breath smelled sweet and so sensually warm against his skin. He licked his lips as he carefully placed her down onto his bed. “Yeah? How’s that?”

  “A bed,” she whispered. “You said you would make love to me in a bed, but I couldn’t do it. I just sat there by the window and watched you sleep. All the while I wanted to slide in next to you–to touch you, to feel you…”

  “Dev, you’re not making this easy for me.”

  Devan smiled at the irony. Just hours earlier she’d had a man in her bed, a man she’d loved for as long as she could remember, and he’d wanted her. He’d wanted her, but he’d known she wanted someone else. And here she was, with the man she did want, and he seemed still determined to deny her, to deny them.

  She rolled onto her side to look up at him. He was perched on the edge of the bed as if ready to bolt at any moment.

  “What is it, Kent? If this isn’t easy for you then why won’t you…” She couldn’t finish, hated the feeling that she might sound as if she were begging.

  He slid closer to her and reached his hand up to touch her hairline, to comb his fingers into her locks. The beautiful strands of multi-hued russet seemed to cling to his fingers, and before he could stop, he brought his second hand to the other side of her face and brushed them both back towards the nape of her neck, holding her.

  “It doesn’t matter now,” he spoke in a voice hoarse with longing and desire. “I was lost from the moment I saw you there in the window, my beautiful Dev.”

  She felt the warmth of longing flood her veins at the sound of his voice, his words. She’d never recognized a need for someone the way she needed him. Everything in her cried out for his touch, for his kiss, for his love. Liquid fire began to build deep inside her, in her very core, and she witnessed the same desperate yearning in his exquisite blue eyes.

  Devan’s body arched towards him even as he forced her mouth to his own. Raw desire clawed at her when his tongue plunged into her mouth. He pressed his body down onto her, covering her with as much of himself as was possible. Her lungs were compressed under his weight, but she had no need to breathe for herself when she could breathe him, breathe through him.

  Kent slipped one of his hands free of her hair and traced the line of her neck, two fingers touching the contour of her collarbone, before continuing towards her breasts. He cupped one of her full mounds in his hand and squeezed, feeling her nipple hard and taut against his palm. Still kissing her, still mating his mouth to hers, he stroked her through the cotton fabric of her nightshirt, and Devan arched herself again, forcing her breast hard into his hand.

  When she pulled her lips from his, it was to release a ragged moan, her head twisting to the side and her eyes fluttering with the excruciating pleasure of his touch. Her own hands, trembling but yearning to feel him, reached between their bodies and raked across his bare stomach. She splayed her fingers wide and combed them up through the sprinkling of hair on his chest.

  She was almost caught by surprise when he began to pull her shirt up. Clumsily, urgently, she tried to grab the hem to help him along. “Stop. Let me,” he told her, but it was his mouth latching onto her naked nipple that caused her to let go, and a wet heat began to throb and pulse between her legs. He took his time lifting her nightshirt away, drawing out each second so he could worship her beautiful breasts with his tongue, stopping a moment longer with the cotton covering her face before finally snatching it away. Her hair fanned out behind her on the bed in luxuriant waves, and Kent slowly took in the sight of her.

  Devan impatiently thrust her hips towards his and reveled in the feel of the hard evidence of his desire for her pressing against his sweats at the apex of her thighs. He slid his body off of her and to the side and she clutched at him, insistent. “Please. I need you, Kent. I think I’ll die if–ohhhh, god.” His hand had slipped into her baggy cotton pants and his cleverly adept fingers had flicked across that most sensitive part of her. Her entire body bucked against him and his free hand caressed her face, soothing her even as he continued his tortuous attention below.

  “My lovely, lovely Dev,” he whispered, steadily building her towards the inevitable crescendo and watching every reaction in her eyes, on her face, through her body. “I could look at you forever.”

  She made a noise in the back of her throat, a choked laugh mingled with a moan. “Not forever. I couldn’t stand it. Don’t deny me!”

  His smile was warm, silky, and she wasn’t sure which she wanted more—to watch him watching her or to give in to the rising climax. “I’d deny you nothing, Devan. Nothing.”

  She sucked in a breath and then found she couldn’t let it go. Every muscle in her body tensed, tightened, the fluid heat of passion licking at her insides. Her already full lungs strained to take in more air in short gasps. She clutched his back with one hand and the sheets with the other. “Kent! Oh, Kent!” All awareness exploded within her and away from her as she bent closer to him and dug her fingernails into his back.

  Devan’s release seemed never-ending, but then Kent’s lips were on hers, coaxing her down, bringing her to him lovingly, and she found her breath again through his. Still quivering, her skin tingling, she reached her hand down to the waistband of his sweats. Fumbling a bit, she finally untied the knot and then dove inside to take hold of his erection. He tried to pull his head back as he groaned, but she took his neck and held him close, tracing his mouth with her tongue before nipping lightly at his lower lip. “I want it all, Kent. I want you.” She pecked at his lips while trying to slide off his sweats.

  In what seemed to be only an instant, all clothing disappeared, and they were body to body, skin to skin. Devan opened her legs wide for him, even while she closed her eyes in anticipation.

  “No,” Kent said gruffly, positioning himself. “No, look at me. Look at me now.”

  Her eyes fluttered a few times. Then she opened them wide, and at that very moment he drove hard. Her body was hot, wet, and ready for him. They both moaned together but their eyes remained locked, his crystal blue ones to her gold-brown ones. He held himself up with one arm while the other took her close, cradling her to him so he could move against her. She sighed into his mouth, alternating between kissing his lips and just pressing her face against his shoulder. Her hips moved with his, meeting him thrust for thrust, the pace quickening.

  “Oh, Dev. I’m not going to last long,” he panted, smothering her lips in a deep kiss before she could respond.

  The arm wrapped under her skimmed up her back, Kent’s fingers tightening on her with each movement of his hips. Then hi
s fingers made their way into her hair, knotting the silky locks around his wrist. Devan rose up on her elbows, intent upon following his lips as he reared his head back slightly. She was raining little kisses along his sweat-glistened shoulders and neck when he tugged on the strands of her hair, forcing her head back and spreading kisses of his own across the tops of her breasts.

  And then with one final thrust, an explosion of lights and a rushing of vibrations spread from his body to hers. They both clenched their eyes closed and cried each other’s names at the same instant. Time seemed to stop for just a moment as they clutched at each other. Then both of them collapsed onto the bed, his chin upon the top of head and her cheek against his upper arm.

  When Kent found the will to breathe again, he opened his eyes and glanced at his hand, where her luxurious hair was still intertwined with his fingers. Sparks of color and light flickered along the strands of brown, blond, and red and he rose up quickly, astonished.

  There were the waves and tendrils of the golden-yellow of her aura surrounding her, throbbing and pulsing with tips of green along the edges. The shades coalesced with one another, mixing and churning around her entire body, but it was brightest around her head where the opaque mixture created a halo of sorts.

  Devan smiled when she realized he was staring at her. Then she tossed him a questioning glance.

  He shook his head, a sudden flood of relief washing over him as he realized what he was witnessing. “So you really are a witch, Dev?”

  “You said I was,” she shot back, flabbergasted by his sudden declaration.

  “No, Dev. Langston said you were a witch—a blood-witch. I went along with it, but I was never sure. I couldn’t see it. Until this moment I’d never seen your aura, never once directly tapped your power. It’s…amazingly strong, ebbing directly from your center. I can feel it with me at this very moment. Wow.”

  Under normal circumstances, the realization of her own nakedness might have been the source for discomfort following sex. Now the idea that he was reading her, feeling energy from her, was much more disarming than the fact that they both wore not a stitch of clothing, that his body was still connected to hers, and that one of his hands had casually migrated to her bare breast. Suddenly she was mortified.

  Kent laughed. “Don’t get shy on me, Devan Stowe. You’re beautiful, you’re a magnificent lover, and you’re apparently a very strong witch–all characteristics that I find very, very attractive.” Then he winked as he rolled them both onto their sides, not breaking contact, but reaching to draw the covers from under them and up over both their bodies.

  “So what does it mean?” she fretted. “The fact that you weren’t able to read me until now?”

  He couldn’t seem to get comfortable just yet, rolling again so that she was on top of him and arranging the covers once more. “I have no idea, Dev. I’ve never heard of such a thing. I mean, one would have to assume that something about our physical ‘connection’ created a psychic ‘connection.’ But then that begs the question, why could Langston sense you all along? We’ll probably need to consult him about it soon.”

  She nodded, allowing her eyes to drift shut as she settled in against him. Then awareness struck her and her head shot up quickly. “You’re not telling him about this.”

  “You know, that blush is very becoming on you.”

  She raised an eyebrow even as she slapped him on the shoulder. “It isn’t funny, Kent. Langston, he’s like a father figure or something. You can’t tell him we just–what we just did.”

  Kent reached a hand to brush a stray lock of her beautiful hair away from her eyes. Something in his heart seemed to swell as he looked at her, admiring the simple loveliness of her face, the fullness of her lips. Those lips were still red and slightly swollen from their earlier kisses and he wanted to kiss them again.

  Opening her mouth to speak, she gasped instead when she felt him coming to life and growing, felt it from deep inside herself. Eyeing him closely, she watched his eyes turn cobalt with excitement. Then she smiled and lifted herself up just a bit, bracing both hands on his chest. She curled her fingers so her nails teased his skin before she shook her head at him and feigned an expression of dismay. “Are witches just naturally insatiable? It hasn’t even been five minutes–ohhh–”

  Her attempt at playfulness quickly turned serious when he grabbed the backs of her thighs and pulled them forward, in turn shifting her hips so he was forced deeper into her.

  “Kent…” she murmured, closing her eyes, then raised up to sit fully astride him. He reached out and took her hands, leveraging her so she could begin moving, letting her control things, letting her work him into a frenzy.

  “I’ve needed you for so long, Devan,” he gasped, a desperate pitch to his voice, “Too long –”

  He groaned as he quivered with release, clenching her fingers between his own before losing all strength and allowing her to slide back down towards his chest. He took her face in both hands and turned her to look at him. “You didn’t–”

  Devan smiled. “We’ll consider us even. I enjoyed watching you. It’s strange. Your expression seems to…to almost cloud over just before and then brightens intensely. I can’t explain it.” She shrugged, embarrassed.

  Kent didn’t respond but he suspected she was seeing his aura and was unable to recognize it. Probably all her life she’d seen a glimpse of such things, of the life-forces of others, but she’d never focused on it nor given it any thought. Now her magic was growing and her eyes were being opened to more and more possibilities.

  “I’m sleepy,” she murmured. “Can we just stay this way? I wish time could just slow down to half-pace or something. It feels good to be in your arms.”

  He nodded, bumping his chin slightly on the top of her head. Her hair was strewn across her back and buttocks in a wide fan over both of them. He gently began to draw his hand from the nape of her neck down, over and over in steady smooth movements, caressing her into slumber. When he was certain she was asleep, he settled his arms securely around her and he too drifted off, peace consuming him for the first time in a very long time.

  * * *

  By that afternoon, Kent and Devan were both fairly sure that they were no longer even, though neither of them could quite decide which one was ahead. They’d not left his bedroom suite even once. They’d made love several more times in the bed. Then he’d taken her again on the window seat when Devan had gotten up to close the blinds. Now they were both in the bathroom, toweling off after a shared shower, which had led to yet another round of lovemaking.

  After having slipped back into her pajamas from the previous night, Devan propped herself against the wall and watched Kent as he stood over the sink, shaving quickly. She studied his movements, the rolling muscles and the litheness of his body. He seemed to have retrieved his lost balance, seemed to be more in symmetry. She didn’t want to build herself any illusions that she might be responsible for his rediscovered equilibrium, but she was satisfied that he’d found it all the same.

  “You had this cabin built, didn’t you?” he asked, eying her through the mirror, his chin up to draw his neck taut as he ran the razor along his skin.

  “Mmhmm, sort of. I added on to it. It was the most secluded of the buildings so I chose to make it mine. I wanted each bedroom to have its own bathroom suite, to be its own mini-quarters. I guess I wasn’t sure if I’d ever have an actual family, but I wanted room for friends to stay–to feel comfortable. With you and Langston, this is the first time it’s been full actually.”

  “Where’d you get the money? I wouldn’t think your father would front this, especially after the rift between you two, and I didn’t think you ever got that law degree.”

  Her expression was stoic as she glanced around the room. “No, he wouldn’t front something like this. My mother left me an inheritance. It was in trust until I turned twenty-one.”

  “Ah,” he nodded, rinsing the razor under the tap. “So you graduated college and were fr
ee?”

  Laughing, she approached him, her damp towel still in her hand. She reached up with it and wiped at his neck near his ear where a line of shaving cream was still clinging to his skin. “You presume I’m free now,” she whispered, not meeting his gaze. “No, you see, there was also some sort of rift between Lenora and my father too. She didn’t make him trustee—she named a bank instead. It must have infuriated him, though I didn’t even find out the trust existed until that same summer I discovered about the business. When it was time for me to receive access to the funds, my father sued me and the bank. He alleged that I was unfit, that it should remain in trust for another ten years, and that he should be appointed trustee. I was making trouble for him and the Org, and he thought if he could cut off any source of money that he would keep me in line.”

  “Eden sued you? But you won and received your inheritance anyway?”

  Devan turned and headed back into the bedroom. “Not exactly,” she told him, sitting on the window seat, rubbing the cushion and pausing a moment to remember their bodies tangled together in passion just a few hours earlier. “Father made the mistake of insisting I learn the law. You’re right that I never became a lawyer, but perhaps I inherited his connivance because I made an agreement with the bank. I took a loan, collateralized against the trust. There was a lot of finagling with the numbers, but in the end the bank got one third of the trust to pay attorney’s fees–mine and theirs. They got an amount equal to one third of the trust as interest paid on the note, and I walked away with the last third. And when I say walked away, I truly did. I used the funds to start Aronel, purchased this and two other out-of-the-way tourist properties, and never saw nor spoke to my father again. I understand he dropped the suit soon after. The bank was happy. They made a hefty profit.”