Burned (Keeper of the Flame) Page 16

  “Not yet,” I hiss.

  He lifts his head. “What?”

  “Nothing,” I whisper, reaching for the button on his pants to undo it.

  “God, I want you, Willow.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck. “I want you, too.”

  His fingers are at my back, undoing my bra. It slips down my arms and drops next to my shirt. His eyes skim my breasts and he smiles. “You’re beautiful.”

  Both his hands are on me now, thumbs brushing my nipples before he dips to trace his tongue over one. I arch my back, letting out a low moan. I force the flames to stay deep inside, but I can feel them flickering, trying to lash out.

  “Please,” I whisper. “More.”

  He hikes my legs up and I wrap them around his waist. He turns us to the living room as I hold on, my bare breasts pressing against his chest. I fist my hands in the back of his hair. He groans and stops, pressing me against the wall in the hallway.

  He’s fully aroused, straining against his pants. I slide my legs to the floor and yank his jeans off. But he catches my wrists before I can go any further and secures them in one hand before holding them against the wall. My chest heaves with heavy breaths, desire racing through me. Trapped. Aching for him.

  He finds the button on my jeans with his free hand. He dips his hand inside my underwear, cupping me. His finger shoots deep inside and I cry out with pleasure, my vision going gray.

  “Ryan,” I gasp.

  He works his finger in and out, making me close my eyes and twist my head to the side against the wall.

  “Tell me what you want,” he says. “Anything.”

  “Bring me to the bedroom. I want you naked. I want you inside me.”

  He doesn’t hesitate. He grabs a condom from the back pocket of his jeans before scooping me up against him while my body still aches with heat and want. I kiss his neck, trail my fingers over his shoulders. When he gets me to the bed, he sets me down and tugs off my pants. Then he inches down my underwear, fingers brushing the insides of my thighs the entire way.

  I can barely see him in the low light of the room. I remember the candles Cheyenne put on the small dresser in the corner. I will the flames in their direction, and the candles burst to life. Ryan straightens, jerking a look over his shoulder.

  “Willow,” he breathes.

  When he turns back, I’m up on my knees, pressing against him. “I want to see you. I want to see you when I touch you.”

  I can feel his hardness pressing against me. I pull his boxers down, my hand closing over him. He’s thick and firm, and I can feel the pulsing of his heartbeat. The flames tickle the inside of my skin, and I swallow.

  “Sorry,” I whisper. “Just…just a minute.”

  He uses the moment to rip open the package and put on the condom. When I can breathe easy again, I shove him down on the pillows and straddle him.

  “My turn,” I say with a smile.

  “Willow‒”

  “No arguments. I have to. Just this once. I want to make sure nothing happens.” This way I can go as fast or as slow as I want.

  He seems to understand and relaxes back on the bed. I lean over, my hair tickling his chest. I can feel the heat rising from him, see the candle flames flickering off his toned skin. I brush my lips against his, then trace his bottom one with my tongue.

  He wraps his arms around me, trying to sit up, but I push him back down. “Not yet,” I whisper.

  I hover over him, his hardness pressing against my opening. He lets out a jagged breath.

  “Willow.”

  “Almost,” I say. The flames subside again.

  I take Ryan into me, relaxing on top of him. He squeezes his eyes shut tight before gripping my hips.

  “God, you’re killing me,” he says.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t.” He exhales, fingers squeezing my waist. “You’re doing fine.”

  I brace my hands against his chest, rocking back and forth, feeling the friction. And he meets me, beat for beat, holding on like he’s right at the edge.

  “I’m okay,” I tell him when his eyes meet mine.

  “Good.”

  He grabs my shoulders and flips me over. I let out a startled gasp, and then a pleasured moan when he enters me again, hard and quick. He pulls my legs up and I wrap them around his back and he pumps into me. My fingers grip the sheets as I go over the edge, crying out his name.

  Ryan follows soon after, climaxing as I come again. The flames from the candles shoot high into the air and then lower when he collapses on me, breathing heavy.

  I lay still, happy and tired and sated.

  And relieved.

  I hadn’t even been able to control myself with Logan, but I had with Ryan.

  He rolls to the side, taking the warmth with him. He tugs on the covers, pulling them over me. He props his head on his hand. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  He smiles. “That’s all? Just yes?”

  “I didn’t know if I could do it.”

  He brushes his thumb on my cheekbone. “You did. And it was pretty amazing.”

  “I didn’t hurt you,” I whisper.

  “No. It’ll hurt me if we don’t do that again, though. Soon. Especially with the connection. It was…”

  I laugh when he doesn’t finish. “Trust me, I was planning on making that a daily occurrence.”

  “I’m not going to argue with that.”

  His hand finds my stomach under the covers. His fingers are rough, callused, the hands of a worker. They’re also warm and gentle. I shiver when he brushes his thumb back and forth.

  “Thanks,” I say, looking over.

  “For what?” he asks, eyes dipping to my lips.

  “Being patient with me.”

  A smile quirks one corner of his mouth. “It was worth it.”

  His hand travels higher, fingers curling around my breast. I lift an eyebrow, but he only grins.

  “Will you stay here tonight?” I ask, my voice serious.

  His smile fades. “Of course I will.”

  “Thanks.”

  I turn on my side and he curls an arm around me, tucking me close to his body. His hands are still warm on me, and I close my eyes, feeling safe for the first time since I arrived in Shadow Hill.

  Chapter 22

  The feeling of safety isn’t as easy to hold onto the next day when I find Ryan doubled over in the kitchen.

  I crouch next to him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Willow‒just go. You need to go,” he says, holding his arm out to ward me off.

  “Ryan. What’s happening?”

  “I’m shifting,” he gasps.

  My mouth drops open. I glance around, looking for my phone. “I’ll call Cheyenne. I don’t know what to do‒”

  “No, stop. Just get out. I don’t want to hurt y‒” He hitches a sharp breath and hangs his head.

  I touch his back, then jerk away when I feel his ribs move. “Oh, God. Ryan‒”

  He gets to his feet, using the counter to steady himself. His face is twisted in pain. I reach out, but he turns away from me, angling for the back door. He yanks it open and yells, “Don’t follow me.”

  Ryan disappears from the door, racing across the yard and behind the old shed. My feet are rooted to the floor. I’m too scared to follow after him, too afraid I’ll see something he doesn’t want me to see. That he won’t trust me after this.

  I break from my trance and hurry to the living room. I find my phone and call Cheyenne.

  She answers the phone with a sultry voice. “Good morning, you sexy witch‒”

  “Cheyenne, something’s wrong with Ryan.”

  Her tone turns even. “What happened?”

  “I found him in the kitchen, on the ground. He said he was shifting‒he looked like he was in pain‒”

  “Take a breath,” she says calmly. “We knew this was going to happen eventually.”

  “We did?”

  “Yes, we did.�
�� I hear the flipping of pages in the background and wonder if she’s reading a book.

  “I don’t know what to do. He doesn’t want me near him.”

  I pace to the kitchen again, peering out the window. When I don’t see anything, I walk to the back door.

  “He’s been avoiding this his whole life. His dad was a shifter and it always caused problems between him and Ryan’s mom. Ryan’s father wanted the curse to end, wanted to be able to shift when he felt like it.”

  “Oh,” I breathe. No wonder this is so hard for Ryan. “Has he ever shifted before?”

  “I think maybe once or twice. He said it hurts.”

  My chest aches and I rub a fist over my heart. I open the back door and look around. “That’s terrible.”

  “It gets easier the more he does it‒but Ryan doesn’t want to do it.”

  “What should I do?” I ask.

  She sighs on the other end. “Wait. Give him some space. Hopefully he’ll change back soon and it’ll be okay.”

  It doesn’t sound like the best solution, but it probably is.

  “Hey,” Cheyenne says before I can hang up. “We should get together and make a plan for tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow. Right. When Logan expects me to start helping him again.

  “You’re right. I’ll wait here a while for Ryan first.”

  “Good idea.”

  I end the call and shove the phone in my pocket. Movement by the shed catches my eye. I clench my fingers around the handle of the door when I see something race by. It’s a fox.

  My lips part. It meets my eyes, staring at me so long I whisper, “Ryan?”

  The fox runs behind the shed again. I want to go after it, but I can’t do that to Ryan. Not if he doesn’t want me to see him. Why would he turn into a fox?

  My shapeshifter history is lacking. I need to brush up. I head inside to get ready. The house is still bare enough it hardly looks like anyone lives here, but I’m getting used to it already. I like it.

  The fact that Ryan and his crew made it what it is helps.

  I start brewing coffee and decide on a shower. The water is warm. I close my eyes and let it run over my face and down my back.

  Tomorrow. Tomorrow I have to face Logan again or he’s going to be really angry. And I have no idea what to do. What to say to him. I can’t do the spell because it will put a lot of people in danger. But I also can’t hide from him forever.

  When I hear a noise in the bathroom, my eyes whip open.

  Ryan appears at the door to the shower, naked. “Mind if I join you?”

  I’m too surprised to say anything but, “No.”

  His lips curve, giving nothing away. “No you don’t want company or no you don’t mind?”

  “I don’t mind,” I say, reaching for him.

  He steps inside and closes the door behind him. His arms come around me, pressing me against his chest.

  “Are you okay?” I say against the curve of his shoulder.

  “I’m fine.”

  I try to pull back to see his face, but he holds tight. His hands slide through the water on my back, reaching to cup my buttocks.

  “Ryan,” I say, an ache in my voice. “I want to help. I‒”

  “You can help by distracting me.” He leans back, eyes meeting mine. “Distract me. Just this once.”

  I nod, hating the desperation I see on his face. I touch his cheek, the stubble rough against my palm, and kiss him. My tongue slides against his, frantic to go deeper, close enough we’re almost one.

  Skimming my hands down his sides, I reach between us to grip him. He’s hard and smooth. He presses one hand against the wall, his breath whooshing out. I continue to slide my fingers back and forth, wanting to take his mind off of what just happened.

  The flames are low and quiet, enough that I can almost completely ignore them.

  “Willow,” he says, voice ragged.

  I slide faster until his body clenches. He drags me to him, crushing me against his chest as his arms tighten. His heart hammers against mine and his lips find my cheek, my shoulder, skim down to my chest, and he empties himself.

  “Thank you,” he whispers, mouth against mine again.

  I nod, holding him close in a hug.

  “I didn’t want you to see me like that,” he says.

  “I understand.”

  He cups my cheeks between his hands. “Do you?”

  “I stopped myself from being with anyone for so long because of the fire. But I trusted you and you helped me. I want you to trust me, too.”

  He kisses me softly on the lips. “I do trust you. I just need some time.”

  I swallow my disappointment. I can give him time. As long as Logan doesn’t hurt me or kidnap me again, I have all the time in the world.

  Ryan’s hands are slick on my body. “Next time,” he murmurs, finding the soap and running it over my shoulders. He turns me around and rubs it on my back.

  “Next time, what?”

  “It’s my turn to distract you.” I glance over my shoulder and his eyes are cloudy with desire. “I’ll give you everything you want. And I’ll take it nice and slow.”

  I shiver and turn around, surprised to find him hard again. “Slow is good.”

  He slides his arms around me once more and I forget the fox and the fire, and lose myself in his kiss.

  ~ ~ ~

  “A protection spell,” Cheyenne says.

  She’s perched on the edge of her desk in the library, reading through a list she made before we arrived. Ryan’s arms are folded and he’s staring out the window.

  “Protection for what?” I ask.

  “For you. Either something specific that will follow you everywhere or something for your house, so you can stay there.”

  “He already can’t come in,” I tell her, sighing. “But I can’t stay in my house forever. The instant I come out for any reason at all, he’s going to be there.”

  Ryan turns to look at me, eyes dark and frustrated. “A spell for you. Something like your necklace, but stronger.”

  I brought my Book of Shadows and there are protection spells, but most of them are temporary. The strongest thing I’ve found so far is the amethyst. “So if I just cover myself in crystals, I should be fine.”

  He doesn’t smile.

  “Come on, Ryan, we’re trying to figure this out.”

  He turns back to the window. “I’m not going to be good company today.”

  “Then why don’t you go?” Cheyenne pulls off her glasses and rubs them on the edge of her shirt. “Go get some work done, distract yourself, and meet us for lunch so we can tell you our plan.”

  “We don’t have a plan,” I say.

  She smiles. “We will.”

  When I walk to Ryan, he nods. “I should. I should get over to the site for a while.”

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  He inclines his head and I walk with him through the front door, into the sunshine. His shoulders are tense when he looks around, gaze traveling each side of the street.

  I get chills even though it’s warm. “What is it?”

  He returns his attention to me. “Nothing.”

  “Is it Logan?” I ask, my shoulders tensing now, too. I still have one more day‒I wish he’d leave me alone.

  “No.” He takes my face in his hands, eyes meeting mine fully. “No, Willow. It’s fine. I was just…making sure I didn’t see anything.”

  “Like what?”

  He sighs, hands lowering to my shoulders. “I saw a fox in your backyard. That’s what triggered the shift. I couldn’t stop it.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t‒didn’t know it could happen that easily.”

  He clenches his teeth. “It shouldn’t. But I’m not used to shifting. I didn’t think I’d ever have to get used to it.”

  My stomach clenches. And it’s my fault. He wouldn’t have to deal with this if I hadn’t come to Shadow Hill. Or if I’d left in the first place.

  “Don’t think
that,” he whispers.

  “What? How do you know what I’m thinking?”

  “I know what you’re feeling. Guilt. I can feel it, too. And it’s not your fault.”

  I don’t answer, just nod.

  “Willow.” He sighs, pulling me against him, lips brushing my cheek. “I’ll stay. I can go to the site later.”

  Over his shoulder, I see someone standing across the street. Logan. I straighten and shake my head, trying to ignore him. “No.” I smile at Ryan. “It’s fine. Get some work done.”

  He glances over his shoulder, frowning. But Logan is gone. “You sure?”

  “Yes.” I step back. “Go. We’ll plan.”

  “Logical plans,” he says. “Something that helps‒not more things that will put you in danger.”

  “There’s a bigger picture here. It’s not just about me.”

  He shakes his head. “You’re important in this. It’s not going to help if you get hurt.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” I assure him. I start to turn back to the library, but he catches my arm.

  “Not yet,” he says.

  He presses one hand flat on my back, holding me to him. His fingers are warm through my shirt, strong and steady even after what happened to him this morning. His breath mingles with mine when he leans in. His other hand traces my cheekbone.

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he says quietly in my ear.

  “It won’t.”

  His lips brush across mine, just a tease. I push closer and fuse my mouth to his, drawing strength from him. His fingers slide into my hair and tighten there for a brief moment before he releases me.

  “Just a few hours,” he says.

  I nod, stepping back. “A few hours.”

  He turns and walks to his truck.

  A chill races up my spine and it has nothing to do with Ryan’s kiss. I almost retreat to the library. But I squeeze the stone on my necklace and say, “I know you’re there.”

  Logan strolls around the building, hands in his pockets. I have no idea how he got over here so fast, but now he’s right in front of me.

  He smiles. “You’re getting awful friendly with the shifter.”

  My jaw clenches and I resist the urge to say something back.

  “I remember not too many days ago, you were getting friendly with me.” He takes another step, close enough he can reach out and touch me. “But I noticed you didn’t set him on fire.”