In the middle of the screaming and yelling that emanated from the two women, he managed to get them to get on his back. As soon as they were settled, he felt the one he had been attracted to—and still was, no reason to lie about it—clench her thigh muscles down on his flesh. An immediate bolt of desire hit, threatening to distract him. He had to focus his eyes on the castle and tell himself, over and over, that he was no way getting involved with her or Heather. That he was going to cast that forgetting spell and get them back to their world as soon as possible and forget that any of this had ever happened.
“My name’s Christy, asshole.”
It just kept getting better, and he meant that in as sarcastic a way as he could muster. Blake eyed Christy carefully. He’d stepped into the room to check on her, and so far, she’d thrown a chair at his head, called him so many names he’d been stunned into speechless, and now she was mad because he hadn’t known her name. Okay. “Christy.” He gave her what he hoped was a charming smile. “That’s a beautiful name.” Her eyes rolled around in their sockets. Her lips parted, probably to send another stream of profanities at his head, and Blake decided to beat a hasty and ignominious defeat. “Okay, so um…yeah. I’ll just let you, um…” He edged toward the door. Her words stopped him cold.
She said, “Where the hell is Heather? That asshole took off with her, and she hasn’t come back.”
That asshole being Max, who had flown off with Heather right after dinner. He said, stiffly, “I do not know. Sorry. I just knew you were alone and it’s a strange place, and I was just thinking…”
“Divide and conquer? Is that it?”
Boy, she was even more beautiful when she was mad, and the dress that she’d been given, a loose and flowing thing in a shade of crimson, really was playing havoc on his body and mind. It clung to every inch of her body, and his erection was starting to poke up against his trousers, something he was sure she would not miss. He stepped toward the door, his emotions in a tangle. “No. I mean, yeah, in war, but you’re guests and…and I should go.” Preferably before she actually managed to cave his skull in with a piece of furniture.
She stepped toward him. The gown swirled and clung. He got harder still. He grabbed the frame of the door and managed to get his lower body behind it just before his erection became blatantly obvious, and she said, “If he hurts her, I will kill you. I’ll kill you a hundred times.”
She was serious. He knew they were friends, not relatives, but she was clearly protective of Heather. She had accompanied her on that date after all. He cleared his throat. “Duly noted.”
He fled before she could slam the door. His footsteps echoed down the hall as he went to his room. He was swollen and thick with need and blood, and he glared down at it, his eyes resting on that thick bulge that was pushing up against the fabric.
He headed for the small bathroom, determined to use some cold water and maybe his fingers to tame that problem of his down. He’d just finished stripping off when there was a tap on the door, and then it opened. He stood there, his mouth hanging open and his staff jutting out at a sharp angle as Christy’s face appeared and was followed by her body.
She was still mad, and she had already said, “You know what? You’re taking me to…” That was when it hit her. He saw it happening. Her eyes flicked downward. Her face went scarlet, and her eyes went wide. She took a step back and then she stuttered out, “You’re naked.”
He glanced down. He was harder than ever. The heavy shaft, wrapped with blue veins, was throbbing visibly. His head was a dusky purple, swollen with blood. He said, “I was about to take a bath.”
She squeaked out something. His head came up. Their eyes met. He felt a wicked grin start up when he saw the points of her nipples, stiffened and shoving against the thin material of her dress. So, he wasn’t the only one feeling the heat? Good.
She was gone in a single second. The door slammed shut behind her with a loud bang that made his hardness wilt just a bit. He glared from the door to his rod and back to the door. “This is insane. I’m casting that spell as soon as I get myself under control. Swear on all that’s holy I am, and screw Max.”
Max, who’d taken some kind of shine to Heather and had decided to fly off with her, while leaving Blake there alone with a human woman who was either flat-out crazy or dangerous, or both.
Scratch that, he thought. She’s definitely dangerous. A woman like that could do a lot of damage, to his heart, to his soul, and to his main goal—which was to save his line from extinction.
