“My mother always supported me, of course, but she never put pressure on me. She’s a marine biologist who works with animal rescue programs. She always told me to follow whatever path I wanted, magical or not.” He leaned back in his chair and sighed. “But from the day I was born, my father said I was destined to be a powerful warlock. He couldn’t have been more wrong.”
Not powerful? In the day since she’d met him, he’d opened a witch portal, set fire to her garden in a devastating but impressive blaze, burned her rug with a kiss, slowed time to save a child, and created a book tornado while levitating off the ground. If that wasn’t powerful, what was?
Calli leaned forward and put a hand on his knee. “The problem isn’t power, it’s control. Because you don’t have control, you avoid using your power, and that makes you think you don’t have power in the first place.”
“But if you don’t have control, then it really doesn’t matter how much power you can tap into,” Malcolm countered. “You still can’t use it.”
“Yes, but you could. Confidence is your enemy here, not magic. I think maybe you became afraid of the power, and if you could get over that… well, who knows what you could accomplish?”
The shadows in his eyes receded slightly. “You think so?”
“I know so.” She nodded. “Your magic is very powerful. It radiates off you like a pure light that is capable of so much good. Believe me, I can sense it. It just needs some direction.” Calli possessed a gift for sensing magic, and just how much they could tap into when they focused.
Malcolm leaned closer, lifting her hand from his knee to hold it. He stared at their connected hands.
“Do you know what your magic feels like to me?” he asked, his voice low and slightly rough like he’d been drinking whiskey.
Her heart danced in her chest as his dark lashes lifted when he stared up at her.
“It feels like the earth, like the trees. I can feel the very planet breathing. It pulses like a beating heart whenever I get close enough to see or touch you. That must be the elemental magic. That connection to everything around you… it feels beautiful.”
Calli swallowed hard, because she could have sworn he almost said, “you’re beautiful.” She tried to focus on something other than his hand holding hers. His touch was as electric as a thunderstorm building upon the horizon and rolling through the valley toward her.
His eyes darted to the left of her face as he spoke. “Your books…”
“My books?” she echoed in confusion.
“They’re floating off the shelves.”
She turned her head to see the books. A dozen were coasting through the air, split open, their spines flapping slowly like the wings of enormous butterflies. It wasn’t like the tornado earlier. This was gentle and soothing… beautiful. Was she doing that? No… she wasn’t.
“Am I doing that, or you?” he asked.
She knew when she was using her powers, could feel it almost every single time, and she was certain this wasn’t her…not entirely. It almost felt like her magic and his were working together, but at his subconscious urging, at least this time.
“It’s you,” she turned back to Malcolm. “It’s not me, it’s you.” His eyes drifted from her face to the books with a look of puzzled wonder.
“If it is me, it’s only because I’m touching you.” He narrowed his eyes a little as if concentrating. “I wonder if…”
Before she could ask him what he wondered, he had risen from his chair and was leaning over hers, one hand cupping her chin, tilting her head up as he covered her lips with his.
This kiss was a bolt of lightning that shot straight through her. White-hot power moved between their bodies. His lips parted and her tongue reached for his, leaving her feeling like she was flying as he deepened the kiss, like the first broom ride she’d ever taken.
It was pure magic.
She felt Malcolm lift the sleepy kitten from her lap and set it on the floor, then pulled her up to stand in the circle of his arms. Lights danced, sparkling across her closed eyelids as he leaned into her. Then they were falling, laughing, still kissing as she dropped onto his lap as he fell into the armchair. He fisted a hand in her hair, his long fingers threading through the strands. She sighed in blissful delight at the hot press of his mouth on hers. Then his lips left hers to trail down her cheek to her ear. He nibbled on her earlobe, sending pulses of pleasure straight to her core.
Touch me, she silently begged. The thought seemed to pass from her to him, because his other hand settled on her lower back, before moving down to cup her bottom and trace her hip. Through her jeans, the warmth of his exploring touch was a wild, erotic thing. She dug her hands into his thick dark hair, the harsh breath of her own excitement accompanied by the whisper of paper and wings fluttering just behind the infinite world of Malcolm’s arms and that perfect kiss.
“When I touch you,” he rasped against her throat. “It’s like I spent my entire life asleep until I met you. I feel awake. Alive.” His mouth pressed fiery kisses to the hollow of her throat. “I didn’t know a person could be a sunrise, but you are mine.”
She needed more. More of his touch, his kisses, and those words which cut to the core of her soul. She wished her sweater would disappear, then heard Malcolm gasp. Now she felt his fingers against her bare skin, and suddenly felt…exposed. She looked down and giggled breathlessly as they realized at the same time that her sweater had vanished.
“Fuck… I think I love magic now.” He nuzzled the valley of her breasts and cursed when her bra got in his way. “Go away…” he whispered between kisses. A sizzle of magic in the air was Calli’s only warning before her bra joined her sweater in the land of missing clothes.
With nothing left to stop him, Malcolm’s mouth covered one peak, his tongue laving the nipple into a tight bud. She clung to him, her head thrown back as sensation after sensation, like the endless waves of a vast ocean, rolled through her.
She writhed on his lap. “Malcolm… Oh God…”
