A jumble of questions crowded the tip of my tongue. Tanner locked his gaze on me, shrugged off his backpack and jacket, and pressed that same finger against my lips as he walked me toward the bed.
Caught off guard by his unexpected arrival, I bumped into the short side of my desk, sent the chair spinning, and almost slipped to the floor when my butt missed the mattress. Tanner captured the backs of my thighs and drew me up his body until we saw eye to eye.
My druid was leaner and stronger than he’d been six weeks ago. Desire and anticipation fluttered through my belly. All thoughts of prowling ex-in-laws dissipated. I clasped the back of Tanner’s neck, hooked my ankles behind his butt, and held tight as he lowered us to the bed.
Laying his chest on top of mine, never losing sight of my eyes, he tugged at my clothing until I was naked and exposed from the ribs down. “Arms up,” he whispered. “I need to feel your skin.”
“Hello to you, too,” I said, taking hold of the stretchy fabric and wiggling it over my breasts and head. “And why do you get to keep your clothes on?”
“The hostess has to invite me to get naked.” He planted his elbows near my upper arms and stroked the sides of my jaw with calloused thumbs. His eyes glowed and his smile gentled.
“Tanner, would you please take off your clothes?”
He kissed my cheeks. “No,” he murmured, “I want you to.” Firm lips and warm breath bestowed a double caress.
I slid both hands between my belly and his, undid the button at the top of his zipper, and very carefully lowered the pull. With his face hovering in the vicinity of my neck, I moved my hands over the defined sides of his butt. The familiar bumps of glass-encased seeds were in place, embedded under his skin within the branches of his tattoo. Satisfied, I hooked my thumbs over the waist of his jeans and tugged the fabric over the rounded muscles until my toes could grab the waistband and push it past his knees.
Tanner kicked his pants to the floor. I fumbled for the bottom of his T-shirt and pulled it up his back and over his shoulders and head. Rocking to one side, then the other, he finished stripping himself.
“Wait right here,” he said, nipping a line down the center of my torso. He unzipped the top compartment of his backpack and extracted a box of condoms and a small, squarish box. He reached in again. This time, he withdrew an oversized black tube and uncapped the top half, revealing a bright gold crayon. “Would it be all right with you if I warded this room, so no sound passes out?”
I sat up, crossed my legs, and tapped the side of my jaw.
“Please?” Tanner added.
“I think that’s a very good idea.”
The druid dipped his head in for a brief kiss, then crossed to the bedroom door and crouched. I gripped the edge of the mattress and leaned forward for a better view. He drew a mark on the floor close to the wall, then moved up the side, across the top and down the other side of the door frame before repeating the glyph the other side of the floor. Setting the stick aside, he touched the first marks with his left hand, the last marks with his right, and began a low chant. Pale amber light infused the magic words, traveled up the sides, and met at the top. Tanner recapped the golden stick and wiped his hands on his discarded T-shirt.
“Is that a new toy?” I asked, curious to know what else he had tucked in his backpack.
“Mm-hmm,” he said, settling between my legs. I wanted to rub myself all over his beautiful brown skin like a cat marking its territory, but Tanner had me pinned. “I did a little shopping in Paris on my way to you.”
“How long can you stay?”
“Ni’eve and I managed to work everything out. Mostly. She gave me a three-day leave.” Tanner explored my face, neck, and front with his hands. I had missed this, the way he never seemed to get enough of touching me when we were together. “I’m due back in France on Sunday night.”
“Are you mine until then?”
“Totally,” he said, making promises to the underside of my jaw. “You can keep me in the house. I’ll be your houseboy. Better yet, keep me right here. I’ll be your bed boy.”
I ran my hands up his arms, enfolding his biceps and the leather bands he now sported. “Have you been intimate with anyone? Because I have not.”
He paused and looked into my eyes. “There’s been no one else but you, Calliope Jones, since I met you. You’re the only woman I want to be intimate with.”
Tanner had grown harder as we whispered back and forth. Neither of us mentioned what Jessamyne had taken from him the night he’d left my party in pursuit of her, and the elderly couple she’d absconded with. The Apple Witch had harbored the idea that the seeds Tanner carried required a sexual act in order to be released. The seeds did not, and to protect the secrets he carried, Tanner had allowed Jessamyne to have him one last time.
To me, that kind of sexual encounter didn’t count within the parameters of my question.
A tingle of sensation between my shoulder blades reminded me I needed to be careful if I was going to spend much of the night on my back. “Um, there’s something I have to show you.” I pushed him away and sat up, my back to him. “Be gentle.”
Warm breath brushed against my neck. A light touch settled near my shoulder blades as Tanner twisted my hair to the side and lifted the corner of the bandage. The fingertips of his other hand spanned one side of the tattoo. “This is incredible, Calliope,” he murmured, planting featherlight
