Which was ridiculous. She was a useless witch, and he was a shifter. It’s not like any of this would work.
“I think I’ll go now unless you plan to come in.” she paused. “I have a lot to do. Thanks for everything.”
Before she could let the steel door close, his massive hand palmed it.
“I need to talk to you. It can’t wait.”
Words formed on her lips, but there wasn’t one thing she could articulate. Calling him crazy didn’t seem to be an excellent way to start a conversation.
Backing into the kitchen, she let him in. Olivia stopped when she hit the counter. He advanced slowly. Oddly, right now her body tingled in a strange new way. Her heart vulnerable as she waited for him to come to her. Olivia’s brain wouldn’t let her make the first move. His tight blue cotton shirt with the firehouse emblem stretched over his muscles, barely concealing the way they flexed with each step. Olivia licked her lips.
“What did you need to talk to me about?” she whispered.
Her magic flared as he came closer. A tingle at first, building to an all-out static storm across her skin.
His stride faltered. His gaze intense. “I might have made a mistake.”
Her jaw dropped. This was him saying goodbye. She'd wanted that though. She'd said he screwed up. She couldn’t get a breath.
Trying again to drag in air, panic churned within her. Now she'd screwed up. What had she wanted? She'd said she was mad, and she was. Anger had done all the talking, but really, all she wanted to know was that she wasn't a fool.
Olivia fanned herself trying to suck in oxygen into her lungs. “Excuse me? I am not a mistake.” Each word sounded breathy, and heat spiraled up her neck. “I am the best damn thing to ever happen to you. You should be thanking me.”
All the anger about her ex, someone she didn’t even like, came out. How dare someone she didn’t want not want her. She was good enough. Despite her stupid mom and her stupid ex. She was amazing. Her hips and her boobs and her ass were terrific.
“You’re a huge asshole. That’s all I have to say. Mistake my ass. You can just walk your perfectly muscled torso out of my kitchen. I don’t care if you’re rock solid and have the penis of every woman’s fantasy. You can go. You don't come to my kitchen to tell me I'm a mistake.”
She was pointing wildly, her hand flying through the air, and yet he seemed to be walking towards her rather than away.
“What are you-”
He cut her off as his mouth stole away her anger.
The taste of mint and earth and Ethan flooded her taste buds. The soft touch of his mouth, the hunger growing with each second. He'd done everything she'd said except he'd done it all for the right reasons. In this moment, she knew he'd done everything wrong, but it was all so right.
Mine. The word floating through her mind.
There was that word again. She pulled away. “Did you hear that?” she asked.
“Hear what?” he asked.
Her words faltered. Something about him said he could see her, see more than she could find within herself. Her body tingled wherever he touched. Her lips were an icy fire of pleasure and pain. She needed him back. She needed him kissing her.
Resting her palm against the heat of his chest she bit her lower lip. The hardened muscles beneath the cotton shirt had the muscles of her core contracting. She shivered. The graze of his fingers leaving a trail of destruction on her nerves. She exhaled on a quiver. Biting back a moan as her body recalled the encounter that changed everything.
She couldn’t do this again. She wasn’t that kind of a woman. She couldn’t. Then again, she was married to this man now. Like it or not. Eyeing him, she could see that he didn't plan to desert her. And what she wouldn’t give to taste his lips again.
A tingle in the pit of her stomach had her leaning into him, his body a wall that didn’t move.
Just one touch, that’s all she wanted.
Mentally pushing aside the work to be done, her hand shook as she reached for him. One hand gently tracing his bicep, trying to pull him closer.
She wanted him. No, it was more. She wanted more than just him. She needed him. Belonged with him. His heart beat even and steady, a calm to the hummingbird beat of her own.
Olivia couldn’t turn away. With each electric tingle of his lips against her own, she fell further and further into the mess that was now her life.
Enclosed in his arms, her body melted into his grasp. Her body craved him. If he didn’t make a move soon, she would take charge and take what she wanted instead.
Pushing her pelvis into him. She gasped in excited surprise. He was hard and ready.
“Beautiful.”
The word came from nowhere, and although she didn’t think he’d said anything, there was little doubt the word had come from him.
Opening her eyes, she pulled away slightly and studied him. If fate knew something she didn’t, maybe she should just accept it.
“Fuck it,” was all she said, ignoring the crazy in her mind. She reached up and pressed her lips to his. No delay, no confusion. He knew what
