Made noises that should have made her ashamed.
But they didn’t, because he did the same. He let out a guttural, near-rattling moan of pleasure, from between his clenched teeth. Almost a grunt of pain, it sounded like—though she knew it wasn’t. He was just coming and coming and coming, hard enough that it hurt.
And she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it was her that had made him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Cassie thought maybe she would feel calm by the time they returned to her house. After all, she’d had that almighty orgasm. And there was a lot to deal with.
There was the dragon scale they had located, that needed adding to the dehornification brew. And now that they had learned that the Jerks were still very much a threat, she definitely wanted to do something about that. She even knew the potion she wanted to brew—something called Forget Me, that would definitely ensure the Jerks couldn’t find them. Or even remember where they lived.
If she did it right.
Which took some doing.
And then there was Pod, who continued fighting with Seth about everything.
She had to listen to them squabbling on the front porch, as she put the finishing touches on her potions. Because obviously, Pod wanted to come inside. In fact, Pod seemed to think he wasowedthe privilege of coming inside. That inside washis,now that he was her familiar.
And although Seth couldn’t understand a word Pod was saying, he got the gist.
And he was skeptical, to say the least.
“You’re basically vermin,” he shouted as he tried to shoo Pod off the porch. But despite the fact that Seth had a broom and Pod was just a raccoon, Seth clearly did not win the battle. A moment later there was a lot of crashing, and running, and gasping. And then Seth groaned, “Oh god, at least use something other than my shoeto make your nest.” Even though there should have been no way for Pod to grab his shoe.
But sure enough, when Cassie turned around from the stove, Seth was wearing just one. While Pod scampered into the cupboard under the stairs with his prize clutched in his tiny hands.
So really, given all the chaos, it should have been easy to avoid feeling the least bit horny.
Yet somehow, she felt as heated as she had in the wardrobe.
In fact, she felt worse. Like she had cracked a door to let one thing through, and now it could not be closed. It was being jammed opened by a million lusty thoughts, and they were all spilling out at once. They were taking her over. She actually found herself stopping the moment she saw him standing there, in the archway between the kitchen and the hall, just to moon over how sweaty he looked. How much his chest was heaving with exertion. How flushed his cheeks were.
And she now fully understood why he kept his eyes above her chin.
Because as he bent over to pick up the broom he’d dropped, her gaze accidentally landed on his butt. And the sight actually made her mouth go dry. She had to take a drink. To force herself to look away. And even after she had, she still couldn’t stop thinking about it. About how round and plump it had looked. How tightly his jeans had clung to it. What it would feel like if she slid her hand over that gorgeous curve.
She even found herself justifying it.Well he touched yours, she thought feverishly. And had to practically yell at herself that this was not a fair thing to say. He had been as much of a gentleman about ass-touching as anyone could possibly be.
But she was not wanting to be a gentleman to him. Oh no, not at all.
She wanted to stuff her fucking hand down the back of his jeans.
Or maybe down the front of his jeans.
Or just take his jeans off, yeah, just—
“You know you’re totally free to go see to yourself, right?”
She snapped a look to him. As if looking was going to prove that he hadn’t actually said that. Or that he’d meant something other than what she thought he meant. But he appeared just as teasing as she’d imagined. He practically had his tongue in his cheek.
And it left her blushing. Then turning away from him so he couldn’t see the blush.
“I don’t need to go to ‘see to myself,’” she said, and knew she sounded way too defensive about it. She had to add something more just to claw back some dignity. “And even if I did, I’ve got things to do. I don’t have time for sexy feelings that I have under control anyway.”
“It doesn’t look like you have them under control.”
“Well then, you’re not looking right. Or you don’t know what control is.”
