A Little Magic(15)

His strokes went deep, deeper, and his mouth crushed down on hers in breathless, mutual pleasure. She flew, as she had waited a lifetime to fly, as he emptied himself into her.

She held him close as the tension drained from his body. Stroked his hair as he rested his head between her breasts. “It’s new,” she said quietly. “Ours. I didn’t know it could be. Knowing so much, yet this I never knew.”

He shifted, lifted his head so that he could see her face. Her skin was soft, dewy, her eyes slumberous, her mouth rosy and swollen. “None of this should be possible.” He cupped a hand under her chin, turned her profile just slightly, already seeing it in frame, in just that light. Black and white. And he would title it Aftermath. “I’m probably having a breakdown.”

Her laugh was a quick, silly snort. Carefree, careless. “Well, your engine seemed to be running fine, Calin, if you’re after asking me.”

His mouth twitched in response. “We’re pushing into the twenty-first century. I have a fax built into my car phone, a computer in my office that does everything but make my bed, and I’m supposed to believe I’ve just made love to a witch. A witch who makes fire burn out of thin air, calls up winds where there isn’t a breeze in sight.”

She combed her fingers through his hair as she’d dreamed of doing countless times. “Magic and technology aren’t mutually exclusive. It’s only that the second so rarely takes the first into account. Normality is only in the perspective.” She watched his eyes cloud at that. “You had visions, Calin. As a child you had them.”

“And I put away childish things.”

“Visions? Childish?” Her eyes snapped once, then she closed them on a sigh. “Why must you think so? A child’s mind and heart are perhaps more open to such matters. But you saw and you felt and you knew things that others didn’t. It was a gift you were given.”

“I’m no witch.”

“No, that only makes the gift more special. Calin—”

“No.” He sat up, shaking his head. “It’s too much. Let it be for a while. I don’t know what I feel.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, into his hair. “All I know is that here was where I had to be—and you’re who I had to be with. Let the rest alone for a while.”

They had so little time. She nearly said it before she stopped herself. If time was so short, then what they had was precious. If she was damned for taking it for only the two of them, then she was damned.

“Then let it rest we will.” She lay back, stretched out a hand for his. “Come kiss me again. Come lie with me.”

He skimmed a hand up her thigh, watched her smile bloom slow. And the light. Oh, the light. “Stay right there.” He bounded out of bed, grabbing his jeans on the run.

She blinked. “What? Where are you going?”

“Be right back. Don’t move. Stay right there.”

She huffed out a breath at the ceiling. Then her face softened again and she stretched her arms high. Oh, she felt well loved. Like a cat thoroughly stroked. Chuckling, she glanced over at Hecate, curled in front of the hearth and watching her.

“Aye, you know the feeling, don’t you? Well, I like it.” The cat only stared, unblinking. Ten seconds. Twenty. Bryna closed her eyes. “I need the time. Damn it, we need it. A few hours after so many years. Why should we be denied it? Why must there be a price for every joy? Go then, leave me be. If the fare comes due, I’ll pay it freely.”

With a swish of her tail, the cat rose and padded out of the room. Calin’s footsteps sounded on the steps seconds later. Prepared to smile, Bryna widened her eyes instead. He’d snapped two quick pictures before she could push herself up and cross her arms over her breast.

“What do you think you’re about? Taking photographs of me without my clothes. Put it away. You won’t be hanging me on some art gallery wall.”

“You’re beautiful.” He circled the bed, changing angles. “A masterpiece. Drop your left shoulder just a little.”

“I’ll do no such thing. It’s outrageous.” Shocked to the core, she tugged at the rumpled spread, pulled it up—and to Cal’s mind succeeded only in looking more alluring and rumpled.

But he lowered the camera. “I thought witches were supposed to like to dance naked under the full moon.”

“Going skyclad isn’t an exhibition. And there’s a time and place for such things. No one snaps pictures of private matters nor of rituals.”

“Bryna.” Using all his charm, he stepped closer, tugged gently at the sheet she’d pulled over her breasts. “You have a beautiful body, your coloring is exquisite, and the light in here is perfect. Unbelievable.” He skimmed the back of his fingers over her nipple, felt her tremble. “I’ll show them to you first.”