Protecting His Witch (Entangled Covet) (Keeper Of The Veil series Book 1) (13 page)

Chapter Eighteen

“What’d you think?” Kat asked.

Matt jumped.

She bit back a smile, pleased that she’d surprised him. She couldn’t read anything from him. Hopefully, she hadn’t shocked him too much.

“You guys were…pretty good,” he said noncommittally.

“Pretty good? I guess I’ll take that for now, but I think we were better than that.”

“You’re not supposed to dance in public as a Pleiad. It’s forbidden because of…that.” He waved at the dance floor.

“I don’t know what being a Pleiad means. What was so wrong with it? That took years of practice and a lot of competitions.”

His gaze raked her outfit. A flush highlighted his cheeks. He pulled her tight to him, and there was no question his southern hemisphere was jacked up. “It’s too much for most people to take, watching you move like that.”

“Was it too much for you?” she asked.

He pulled her down a hallway and whirled her into a dark, deserted closet. His mouth covered hers.

She slid her fingers through his hair, the soft strands making her fingers tingle. She loved his unique taste—wild aroused male mixed with Scotch. That, in combo with the endorphin high still circulating in her blood, had her teetering on the edge of wild abandon.

His stiff arousal pushed between her legs while his tongue swept her mouth.

A riptide of lust seized her, sweeping away insecurity and worry about the future. And blinded her with desperation to have him inside her. Maybe that could cool the fever of lust that burned only for him. A low moan slipped past her lips—a husky and helpless sound of need.
Oh God. Yes
.

He lifted to balance her against the wall, grinding his rigid erection against the scant underwear covering her core, which was already drenched for him. Damn him for being like no other—hard, ruthless, and dominant. Damn her traitorous body for desiring only him.

She reached for the fastening of the tuxedo trousers, freeing him. He groaned when she palmed him, and caught her mouth in another deep kiss that swallowed her answering moan. He slid her skirt up her thighs, bunching the fabric in his hand. And fingered aside the wet panties to swirl around her clit. One more pass and she’d explode. But those too-knowing fingers didn’t make that pass. Disappointment soared as she reached for that release.

“Please, Matt.”

“Please what?”

“Stop teasing. I need you inside me.”

He worked off her panties and then repositioned between her legs. He pushed into her slowly—thick, hot, and so hard. Her fingers dug into his biceps as she tried to wriggle to get him to move, to lose control and stop the torment. But his hand clamped her hip and held her in place.

He broke from her lips and whispered, “You shall suffer a bit for what you just put me through.”

“You’re killing me. Matt…please.”

He moved just a little deeper, the sensation setting off nerve ending explosions. “Here?” he asked. And then he moved a little deeper, nudging the section deep inside that sucked the air from her lungs. Fireworks exploded in her brain. Her wild cry gave him his answer.

He chuckled and flexed his hips in what wasn’t so much a thrust as an internal rub. Ruthlessly he stroked that deep zone.

She cried out again under the onslaught of intense pleasure. Her body clenched and convulsed on that edge, but she couldn’t quite get there. She begged, “Please…I can’t take this.”

“You can take it.”

She tried to move, to incite him to lose this vicious control he had, but he locked her pelvis and tortured her with another deep stroking.

Desperate to move, she sank her teeth into his shoulder.

He growled, and his body bowed. His control shattered. After several hard thrusts, her body clamped down and her mind exploded.

She was only dimly aware of the power of Matt’s convulsions as he pumped violently into her.

In the silent afterward, reality returned in bits. First, awareness of a dark closet lit only by light sneaking under the door, and the assortment of mops and buckets surrounding them.

Slowly he withdrew and pressed a cloth she suspected was his handkerchief between her legs, absorbing the wetness he’d left.

They both slowly straightened clothes, while thoughts of
that’d-been-great-but-nuts
swirled in her brain. And yet again, they’d forgotten protection. She needed to reiterate to him her inability to take birth control pills. Even so, the thought of another baby, his baby, didn’t bother her. That spooked her.

The world went blurry and started to teeter.

“We’re going back.” She quickly righted her clothes and then clung tight to him.

Chapter Nineteen

“I’m never getting used to the eyes burning part of this,” Matt grumbled.

Kat stumbled, blind and off-balance, reaching out for anything solid. His arm wrapped her waist and anchored her to his side. She leaned into him with a relieved sigh, impressed that he didn’t waver despite the fact he had to be fighting the same mental whirlybird that owned her mind.

She asked, “Where do you think we are?” Her head hurt too much to try to sense for thoughts or chance squinting for a visual.

“Looks like my house in the Hamptons. In the office.”

“You think it’s safe?” she asked. When he twisted as if glancing around, she gripped his arm.

He murmured, “I’ve got you. Can you see yet?” He enfolded her in his arms.

“No.” She relaxed and rested her ear against his chest, comforted by the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing.

He rubbed circles on her back.

“Mmm. That’s nice.”

Suddenly he stopped. His body snapped taut. “We’re not alone. I’ll handle this.”

“Handle what?” She peeked through cracked eyelids. The light from the windows seared through her skull.

“I knew it would work,” boomed a man with a Scottish accent. “I’ve never done a command summon on a Pleiad before, but this was getting ridiculous.”

Her eyes finally decided they were on board with vision. Four large men blocked the office doorway. One glimpse of the Scott who made that declaration and pain lacerated her mind. Her knees buckled, but Matt caught her before she fell and locked her against him. She gripped her head, hoping whatever had her brain in a vise clamp would halt.

Visions of her real mother flashed in her head. The pictures included the Scott. She remembered him now. Bryce Sinclair.

Daddy
.

Scattered images of him in her childhood replayed as if someone had opened a locked door to memoryville. Despite her excitement at remembering her real past, her head screamed agony while memories poured in.

“What’s wrong?” she heard Matt ask, but his voice sounded faint and far away.

“Head,” she choked out. “Hurts.”

His large palm massaged the back of her neck. All head pain vanished. She took a deep breath and chanced an eyelid crack. No pain. Functional vision. He was her own personal miracle. She glanced up at him. “All gone. Thank you.”

“Did one of them try to hurt you?”

She shook her head and took a step away from him. “I don’t think so. I just remembered some of my childhood. I think it was memory overload.”

The two hulking men beside her father grumbled low to each other. A college-aged guy stepped beside Bryce. And Eli, who she hadn’t gotten a good look at before. Eli was the same height as Matt, and looked almost identical, except for the facial scar and different hair. His brother was a twin. Thank God he’d survived the earlier attack.

They had to be druids. That meant they could potentially hurt her using magic. A sudden surge of aggressive thoughts from the druids hit her frontal lobe. She staggered into Matt and groped for his hand.

“I don’t recall inviting any of you to my house.” He glared at his brother. “Eli. Are you taking sides?”

Eli shifted on his feet. “No. I am but concerned for your safety. And hers. My duty above all else is to ensure her survival.”

Matt glowered.

“I don’t recall discussing you get personally involved with her rescue. That wasn’t part of the deal,” Bryce said.

“What deal?” she asked.

Matt didn’t reply.

Bryce said, “The deal we made where he brings you to me. What the bloody blazes are you wearing, Katherine?”

“Long time, no see, Dad.” She experienced a fleeting nostalgic happiness at a reunion with her father. But terror that he or his friends might hurt Matt killed her joy.

“Dad?” Matt rounded on her. He pulled his hand from hers and stepped away. Betrayal etched his features.

“I didn’t remember until right now. My mother might’ve memory suppressed me when she left me in our alternate. I was only ten. Since I can jump dimensions, I assume those people that shot her with a poison dart didn’t reverse the poison.” She sought Bryce’s gaze and added sadly, “Or killed her?”

The sorrow on her father’s face was enough of an answer. He wasn’t at fault for separating them so long ago. Almost twenty years. A lifetime.

Then, she caught her father’s thoughts.
I’ll see that gigolo in hell before he touches her.

She stepped close enough to Matt to be in contact. He must’ve sensed her fear since he didn’t move away. But tension thrummed through him. She may not understand the undercurrents, but there was some deep, very bad history here. That aside, he’d made a deal with Bryce? What kind of deal? Was everything Matt had said and done just a con? She couldn’t believe that. Just couldn’t. It’d shatter her soul to think he’d gone so far just for a deal. He’d already inflicted so much damage on her heart that if she discovered his complicity in anything like that she wasn’t sure she could recover.

She remembered his wrist tat. And now recognized it as the mark of a Sentry druid. That didn’t mean she trusted him 100 percent with her heart. Her life, however,
that
she knew he’d keep safe. But was his concern about her safety only to complete whatever deal he’d brokered with her father? Or did it have to do with Sentry vows?

“I repeat, what are you wearing?” Bryce demanded.

“She’s the National Amateur Latin Dance champion in her dimension. She’s…” His eyes met hers and went smoky. “Well, she’s a really good dancer.”

Her cheeks burned at the compliment. Warmth tingled her insides.

“Pleiades are forbidden to dance in public,” Bryce announced.

Just as she bristled to defend herself, the college-aged guy stepped forward. She caught some hazy naked images of her from his mind, in some very unoriginal positions, not that that kind of imagery from a barely postpubescent guy surprised her. He pulled her away from Matt and locked his lips onto hers. Revulsion hit hard. She bit his tongue when he tried to push into her mouth.

With a yelp, he pulled away. She palm struck his chin, sending him reeling.

Matt pounced, landing the guy on the floor with a knee to his chest and his hands wrapped around the kid’s throat.

“Release Jason,” Bryce ordered.

Matt gritted out, “The asshole has no right—” He flew off Jason as if tackled by an invisible linebacker. He bounced on the floor and slid until his head smacked against the wall. Then he gasped and clawed at his chest as if an invisible pressure crushed.

“Stop it!” she screamed. She knelt beside him, desperate to help him. “What’s wrong?”

Jason tugged her away from Matt. She struggled to get out of his grip.

“Knock it off, Bryce,” Eli said.

Matt popped upright, took one gulp of air, and lunged for Jason. He landed a brutal hook to Jason’s chin.

The kid stumbled backward, releasing Kat.

Matt threw Jason face-first into the wall. Jason rolled, exposing a bleeding gash on his head.

Matt stepped away. His head snapped around to pin Bryce. “I’m not fixing him. The next time he touches her, I’ll kill him.”

She pointed at Jason, who’d stumbled behind Bryce to rest against the wall. “What the hell was that?”

Jason massaged his throat and slid along the wall farther away from Matt. “Katherine? We’re destined to be together.”

“Who are you? There’s no chance of us doing anything together other than this.” She stalked to Jason and slapped him hard. She reached back to do it again, but Matt caught her hand and pulled her against him. And away from the druids.

He whispered to her, “He’s dead if he touches you again. Don’t give him the opportunity.”

“I can’t believe he did that.”

“Remind me again and I’ll kill him right now.” His deep blue eyes promised death.

“Step away from her, Matthew. Now,” Bryce ordered.

She detected the energy notch up a few degrees in the room. Terror hit hard. In her mind she screamed,
Someone help me. They’re going to hurt him.

Within seconds she heard voices from several women. The most prominent asked,
What’s wrong? Is this my lost sister?

Who are you?
Kat asked.

I’m Charlotte. I saw you at that Wiccan thing. I’m sorry if I scared you. You are one of us, a Pleiades. What’s going on?

The Pleiades were able to connect mentally? Cool. And, she really might be one of them.

She thought back to them,
I’m at Matt’s house in the Hamptons. Matthew Ryan. We were in my world and now suddenly here. I thought I was getting better at this jump thing. The druids here might hurt him.

Did Bryce pull a command summon on you?
Charlotte asked in a tone that suggested she would personally crush him, if so.

Kat replied,
Don’t know. What’s a command summon? I didn’t try to jump. It just happened.

Hang on, honey, I’ll handle this.

Seconds later a cell phone’s electronic chime shattered the tense silence. Bryce pulled it from his jacket. “Now isn’t a good time, Charlotte…” His cheeks blazed red.

Charlotte’s rant was audible to all, “Did you? Did you pull a command summon on her?”

“Yes,” Bryce replied. He held the phone away from his ear. All could hear the ball-busting tirade. When it died down he said, “Okay.” And handed the phone to Kat.

“Hello?”

“Listen, honey, if Bryce so much as twitches to do anything you don’t want, use what you’ve got on him. Forget the fact he’s your father. I never knew what your mother, bless her soul, saw in that overbearing prick. Just remember your gifts work ten times better in this world, the Sourceworld. And they work doubly so on druids. Well, except for your destined, who I suspect is Matthew. I think he’s a good choice for you. He’s got issues, but gracious he’s hot.”

Kat smiled at Matt. “He is that.”

Matt’s eyebrows rose.

“Bet he’s a rocket in bed,” Charlotte drawled.

She choked out a strangled sound. Her cheeks burned.

Charlotte chuckled. “I’ll be there in an hour or so. We’ll clear up some of the confusion. Your ability enables you to connect all of us. If you need us, just reach out again.” Charlotte disconnected the call.

She handed back Bryce’s phone. “She’ll be here in an hour.”

Bryce nodded.

“Please, stop threatening Matt.”

Bryce narrowed his eyes on Matt. “How many times have the two of you crossed paths?”

Matt glowered a silent fuck-you.

“I think we’ve answered enough personal questions,” Kat announced.

“I’ll leave you alone until Charlotte arrives if you tell me how many times you crossed paths,” Bryce demanded. Obviously he was used to being the super shit in charge.

Matt replied, “More than a few.”

“Since when. How old?” Bryce asked.

“Fifteen,” Matt replied.

“I don’t remember you until college.”

“Remember when you arrived wet and shivering? Said something about a boat explosion before you passed out.”

“Yeah, it killed my adopted parents. But you…I don’t remember you that time. I remember a kind man with a lot of facial scarring. I think he healed me when I woke up, but then I popped back to my world…dimension.” She shook her head.

“You pretty much conked out and slept for ten hours straight that first time you appeared. That man was Quinn, my father. I didn’t put all the visits together until after this last time you jumped away.”

“Shit,” Bryce mumbled. “Talk about catastrofucks.” He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and massaged his temple. He pointed at Matt. “You’re not good enough for her.”

Hurt shimmered in Matt’s brilliant blues before it glazed into stoicism.

“Obviously, you don’t know Matt very well.” She marched toward the exit.

As she passed Bryce, he said softly, “He’s not for you, Katherine. He’ll never be able to commit to what you will need.”

At the door, she pretended she hadn’t heard those devastating words that confirmed the fear wedged deep into her chest. “Matt, could you please show me to a room that I might borrow? I’d like to shower.”

He led her to a resplendent bedroom, different from the guest room she’d been in last time—spacious with panoramic windows and a monstrous sleigh bed. This had to be the master bedroom. His.

Kat kicked off her heels, angry at the unfairness of the world. She may not be able to get long-term with Matt, but she sure as hell was getting her money’s worth out of right now. She unzipped. The green sparkly costume hit the floor followed by underwear. Buck naked.

She shot him a smile more brilliant that the midday sun. “Coming?”

By the time she saw his feet hit the tiled bathroom floor, she already had the shower steaming and was slipping beneath the streams of the triple jets. She’d almost given up on him.

When his hand touched the shower’s glass door she said, “You might want to lose the tux.”

He glanced down as if surprised.

He shrugged the jacket and shirt from the powerful width of his shoulders. Muscles rippled. The bullet wound on his side and the gash on his arm had smoothed over, completely healed. Amazing.

Her fingers itched to touch him, to follow that dark trail of hair that disappeared into the waistband of the trousers. He ripped at the pants, his long powerful legs drawing free.

Her lips parted to drag in a ragged breath. He stepped beneath the jets, crowding her in the small space. Dipping down, he captured her lips. The kiss started slow, teasing, but quickly took a sharp left into deep and desperate.

His expert hands massaged southward, hitting her most sensitive zones. Her muscles tightened, indicating just how much she wanted this.

She gasped against the pressure of his tongue circling her nipple. He murmured, “So beautiful.”

“Matt…” Her head fell back against the shower wall.

He worked his way upward. She gazed into his eyes, which were now hooded with anticipation.

Her hands circled him.

He hissed as she tightened pressure and stroked.

She smiled wickedly and started her own southward descent. With a flick of her tongue she circled his tip. He let his head fall back with an agonized groan. After three long strokes along his length, she took as much of him as she could.