“My reward, my choice.”
“Well, I suppose we should think about heading down to the galley and organising something to eat—” Erupting into laughter as Nico swept her in close, plastering his body against hers. A rather sexy lascivious look on his face, that fired her lady bits back into sit up and beg for more mode, given the man’s hard heated cock was nestled right between her legs. What was Nico Yanez doing to her? Ruining her for other men. Craving his gaze on her, greedy for his smile, his touch, his lips. And he was destined to break her heart. Gigi thrust that thought away forcefully, determined to enjoy the here and now with Nico.
“Hold on, Cookie, we haven’t finished with the reward part of the evening just yet.”
“Oh? I guess I should have inquired a little more into what this so-called reward you claim you deserve involved before we started down this road, huh?”
“Too late now. But I will share that…” He leaned to the side, planting a kiss on her shoulder. “It’s a multipronged…” Kissing the side of Gigi’s throat next. “…interlocking series…” Nuzzling the sensitive skin behind her ear. “…of escalating levels of endorsement, that involve you…” His lips grazing hers feather soft lightly, as he stared into her eyes, only inches separating them. “… showering me with effusive praise and gratitude—”
Laughing, Gigi pressed a finger to his lips. “Will you just shut up and fuck me already.”
“Good thing I like my women bossy.” And then he was kissing her, deeply, reaching down to drag her leg over his, thrusting forward with his hips, his cock surging into her tight heated core. Saint Medard, that felt so bloody good. Unconsciously matching his thrusts to the pulsing faint beat of Gigi’s heart.
Clinging to Nico, Gigi discovered herself to be a surprisingly fervid fan of reward ceremonies. And as he filled her, re-igniting her entire body on fire, she found herself very much looking forward to discovering what Nico had meant by multipronged and praying it was as dirty and as much fun as it sounded.
Chapter Twenty-One
Nico, leaning casually against a wall, arms crossed, watched on fascinated as Gigi worked. Fussing over the arrangement of her chocolate and cookie trays. They were at the Haven Bay Library, a massive gothic place where the locals could borrow books, research, gather, gossip, read, and just sit in the central light filled atrium room and drink coffee whilst reading the newspaper.
The atrium was all archways, columns, overhead stained glass, and dark wood panelling. From this central space you had easy access to all the library specialist areas such the Mystical and Magic Wing, or the Scientific and Medical Wing.
Today’s morning tea was better known as Story-Time Hour. A regular weekly session held so that parents could gather and discuss baby rearing challenges whilst their progeny were kept occupied nearby by trained professionals.
The proceedings supervised by Great-Uncle Nestor, a former educator, now retired, who’d happily volunteered to take on the responsibility of monitoring the recent additions to the Sanctuary. Not just recording the babies’ developmental magical and mundane milestones, but perhaps more importantly, identifying any support the parents might require, as the babies’ magic and powers evolved over time.
Today was an auspicious occasion. Sunny Montgomery’s first outing. Accompanied not just by her mother, Nell, but her father, Drum, a permanent scowl affixed to his face as he searched constantly for any potential threats to his beloved nine day old daughter.
“Well?”
Gigi stood before Nico in her work uniform of white boat collared blouse, fitted to the knee grey skirt and large purplebelt, matching her high heeled shoes, looking expectantly his way. Damn, she was gorgeous.
“Nico? What do you think?” She gestured at the large square table. “Is the room I left going to be enough for your trays?”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He fought the urge to slip his arm around her waist and haul her in close.
“Are you sure the food’s on its way?” Checking her watch, toe tapping impatiently. Gigi did love her schedules, and Saint Medard, he loved her.
“I just had a text from Riordan. She’s five minutes away.”
“Good.” Gigi studied the setup, trying not to grit her teeth at the sight of those empty white spaces. It would be fine, besides, this event was running behind schedule anyway. All because of one stubborn, over protective Maat Warrior, who refused to leave his newborn baby’s side.
Glancing inside the Children’s Wing, Gigi had to bite her lip to stop from laughing. Currently Nell, Hadleigh and Aunt Patricia, their assigned storyteller for the day, were all trying to coerce, cajole and convince Drum that Sunny would be perfectly safe if he joined the other parents at the morning tea on offer in the atrium.
“They’re never going to get him out of there.” Nico observed. And quite frankly he didn’t blame Drum one little bit. If he had such a precious charge to protect, he doubted he’d be able to trust anyone else with her safety either.
And everyone who saw Sunny Montgomery agreed, she was beyond precious. And it wasn’t just that she was a beautiful baby, with a dusting of black hair, big deep blue eyes, and cupid bow lips. It was her demeanour. Calm. Placid. But also watchful and assessing. Her gaze seeming to drink in details of her surroundings and the people she met with much more maturity than should have been possible.
“They appear to be having just as much trouble with Gaia.” Gigi noted, amused, watching as her cousin knelt beside her son, Theo, and under the pretext of straightening his clothes or blankie, was actually stealing three corner jacks and assorted spiky thorny things from his grasp, and stuffing them into her increasingly bulging pockets. Acting like this was completely normal and there was nothing unusual what so ever about the fact her son was able to produce a never ending stream of prickly things from thin air.
Gigi had heard on the grapevine that several times Great-Uncle Nestor had tried to broach the subject of Theo’s magic with Gaia, but that she deflected, either by changing the subject abruptly or bursting into tears, seemingly determined to live in denial of her son’s abilities.
Of course Hadleigh didn’t have that luxury with her escape artist son, Asher, and his ability to combine objects into potentially deadly weapons. The issue further exacerbated now that he was crawling. Not that anyone had actually witnessed him do so, but there was no other explanation for how he managed to turn up in places he shouldn’t have access to. His mobility skills perhaps not so surprising, given Asher’s height already, and that his father was a Maat Warrior and his mother was a descendant of Odin.
Nor was anyone shocked that Asher appeared to have emerged from the womb with suped up hunting and superior predator instincts. The grapevine advising Hadleigh had recently purchased a bulk load of Zumba vacuum cleaners, as Asher had developed a fixation; stalking and by all accounts gleefully destroying the automated bots.
It also explained why Asher wasn’t just strapped into his car seat but why those straps were held together by five thief proof high grade locks. Hadleigh appearing to have perhaps unwarranted faith in the new locking system, as all her attentionwas currently fixed upon watching Nell attempt to move her man mountain of a mate. A smile teasing up the edges of Hadleigh’s lips, no doubt thinking about all the times she’d had to deal with her own stubborn ass mate, Vaughn. And how pleasant, just once, it was not to be the one trying to reason with a mule headed Maat Warrior.
“Perhaps we could move the table and chairs closer to the babies?”
