Turning Tides (19 page)

Read Turning Tides Online

Authors: Mia Marshall

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Urban, #Contemporary, #General

Josiah’s actions didn’t just save me from myself. They bought me time. I didn’t know how much, but I wasn’t going to waste a minute of it.

“I need to go.” They both looked surprised, and I knew I only had a second before they began making reasonable arguments why I should stay with them. I didn’t give them the chance. “You don’t need me. Besides, this way you’ll have privacy to better plan my future, which I know you’re both dying to do.” Neither could argue with that.

I took off running for the western side of the island and the houseboat that was anchored half a mile offshore.

I ran to Mac.

Chapter 18

The rowboat wasn’t tied to
the cottage. Simon or Miriam must have returned to the

houseboat, and I wasn’t going to waste time phoning them to bring it back. I left my shoes on the rocky beach, my cell phone tucked into the toes, and I jumped into the water fully dressed.

My water magic came eagerly. It was stronger than I’d felt in a long time, as if seeking to obliterate the memories of the fire. I welcomed it, wrapping myself in its power and asking it to speed me toward the boat.

It didn’t take long before the houseboat came into view. Though it was afternoon, thick clouds covered the sun, leeching color until the sky and sea appeared to be the same shade of gray. A few interior lights were turned on inside the boat, beacons calling me to Mac.

I hauled myself up the ladder and stood dripping on the deck. It had stopped raining, but the open sea offered little protection against the breezes whispering against my damp skin. I pulled the water from skin and clothes. Once I was mostly dry, I stepped into the houseboat’s sitting room.

Simon and Miriam played cards at the dining table. Based on Simon’s intent expression and the fat pile of chips in front of Miriam, I guessed she was winning.

There was no sign of Mac.

They glanced up when I entered and nodded. “Any news?” asked Miriam, placing a card on the table.

“Um, yeah.” I barely looked at them, my attention already fixed on Mac’s door. A light shone from underneath. I walked toward it, calling over my shoulder. “Josiah killed Rachel Strait and confessed to all the murders, so Sera’s trial is canceled and she’s being released. And my sentencing will be delayed till the council again has a quorum. Also, we destroyed the drugs they planned to use as my punishment.”

The silence behind me was heavy. If I turned, I suspected I’d see two confused shifters.

I would fill them in on the details later. Right now, I had better things to do.

I didn’t bother to knock. I simply strode through the door and closed it behind me before Simon and Miriam had a chance to find their voices.

Mac was sitting up in bed, one of the mysteries I’d snagged from Grams’ library in his hands.

I reached one hand behind me and locked the door, never taking my eyes from him. He closed the book but kept his thumb holding his place, as if he would return to reading soon.

It only took three steps to cross the small room. His eyes followed me, dark and curious, but still he said nothing. I plucked the book from his hand and set it on the bedside table.

“I know you’re upset. I know you’ve spent a lot of your life fending for yourself, and you don’t want to be dependent on anyone.”

He watched me with cautious eyes, but he didn’t interrupt.

“And maybe it’s worse when you have no way to fix this and no one to blame. Hell, I’ve been mad at Carmichael for weeks, but we both know he was trying to protect me. We also know, if I hadn’t saved you, you’d be dead now, and don’t you dare tell me that’s a better option than being tied to me.”

He shook his head, a minute movement.

“But I’ve got enough going on right now, and my brain is full of more than I know how to handle. I can’t deal with you being distant on top of everything else. As soon as I feel anything close to stable, I’m going to find a way to fix you. You know I will. So, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart, whatever anger you’re feeling, get over it.”

At last, I stopped speaking, waiting for the rage I knew lay just beneath his skin to erupt.

Instead, his mouth curved into a warm smile, and I swear I felt my soul lighten. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. I know you didn’t do this, and I’m sorry if I was an ass. I just needed to work things through for myself. And hell, I’ve been sick off and on for the last week. I haven’t really been at the top of my game. We’re okay. We’ve always been okay. I just needed to sulk for a while.”

I exhaled in relief. “Good. Look, today was a doozy and then some. I don’t dare try to focus the magic. Tomorrow?”

“I can wait. Want to talk about it?”

I sat next to him, my hip brushing against his thigh, and I forced the memories of Rachel’s death from my mind. I’d have plenty of time to relive them later. “I really don’t. So I was thinking. You must be going stir crazy trapped on this boat.”

He gave a rueful laugh. “You have no idea.”

“You probably want to throw some more things, feel your muscles working. You haven’t shifted in days, and you have all kinds of energy you need to release.”

He raised an eyebrow, wondering where I was going with this.

I leaned toward him, letting every wicked impulse show on my face. “Want to release some energy?”

Our eyes locked across the small space. We let the awareness build, the knowledge that it was just the two of us, alone in a room with a double bed. His nostrils flared, and I knew his shifter nose picked up my desire. We were barely touching, and already it was building, electricity humming across my skin.

“What are you up to, Aidan?” His voice was low, with more than a hint of a growl.

I’d said all the words I had to say, and I didn’t want to talk anymore. What was the point in dating a strong, silent type if he didn’t know when it was time to shut up? Instead of answering, I placed my hands against the headboard, on either side of his shoulders, and pulled myself onto the bed, straddling his legs with mine. I drew my thigh muscles toward each other, gripping his body. It was a promise of what was to come.

Mac’s breath caught, and I watched the expressions dance across his face, lust and uncertainty and something so warm I dared not name it. His brown eyes heated, but they stayed locked on my face, and we held the gaze as I reached forward, running my hands from his broad shoulders down his arms.

I threaded our fingers together and stretched my legs behind me, leaning forward to balance on top of him. I aligned my body against his.

I paused, almost afraid to move. Already, I was flooded with sensations that were distinctly Mac. He was the strongest man I’d ever known, his body offering a safe harbor. There was little give in his chest muscles, his abs and thighs, but his skin was soft and warm. I took a deep breath and imagined I could scent his need. Not that I needed to imagine much, with some mighty compelling evidence pressing against me.

“What are you doing, Aidan?” Mac asked again, his voice thin and strangled.

“I’d think that was obvious.” I unwound our hands and reached up, gripping the thick muscles of his shoulders. I pulled myself along his body, one slow inch after another, until our faces met. I smiled then, a smile as full of promise and hunger as any I’d ever allowed him to see. He strained toward me, but I pulled back, dropping my face into the curve of his neck.

I inhaled the warmth, the scent that belonged to Mac alone, and skimmed my lips across the skin. My tongue darted out, tasting, but it wasn’t enough. It was too slow, too deliberate for the hunger claiming me. One nip, then another, then I sank my teeth into his skin. He gasped, a mix of surprise and pleasure, and I fought the voice telling me to deepen the bite. To mark him.

Reluctantly, I released his neck, soothing the teeth marks with my tongue. I lowered my head until my lips met the neckline of his white t-shirt, and I tugged it with my teeth. I wanted nothing between us. I needed to feel his skin, warm and sweaty, pressed against mine.

“Take it off,” I said.

His voice was strained. “I don’t want you to think I’m complaining, but what brought this on? Are we done waiting?”

“Fuck waiting,” I told him. “Off.”

I watched the smile spread across his face, the slow grin I sometimes hoped would be the last thing I saw before I died. He placed one enormous hand high on my chest and pressed gently, lifting me off his body.

I reached out to him, resenting the distance. The whole time, Mac watched me, his gaze intent, loaded with thoughts I could only begin to guess.

“Aidan, I’m not sure this is the best idea.”

“I am.” I tugged at his shirt again, wondering why it was still on his body. “I’m tired of thinking, Mac. I’m tired of waiting for some perfect moment that seems unlikely to ever come. I know this isn’t it. I know I still need to undo the magic. But that’s in the future, and I’m so tired of waiting for the future. We only get so many chances in life. Can we stop screwing this up?”

I had no warning. One moment I was straddling him, my hands sneaking underneath his t-shirt to feel the heated flesh. The next I was on my back, my wrists held in one of his hands and pinned above my head. He braced himself on his other forearm and his knees, sparing me most of his weight, but I still felt the press of his body, a welcome heaviness pushing me into the mattress.

“I don’t plan on screwing anything up,” he said, lowering his head to my neck and speaking the words against my skin. I squirmed, trying to get even closer to him. If I could have climbed inside him, I might have tried.

I arched my neck, giving him better access. “Do you plan on screwing anything else?”

I felt the rumble of laughter that started deep in his chest and moved outward, ending on the lips now pressed against my collarbone. “Classy.”

My wrists were still pinned, and I fought against him, wanting his skin beneath my hands. His grip didn’t lessen, but the effort raised both our shirts, pressing an inch of my bare skin against his.

“You know me. I’m classy lady.” I undulated, urging our bodies closer together, the heat from that small contact moving through me.

Mac’s lips slid upwards along the column of my throat. He grabbed my jaw between his teeth, holding my face in a soft bite. At last, he released my hands, running his own down the length of my arms, a slow caress from wrist to shoulder.

One hand moved to my face, cupping my cheek, while the other slid along my ribs, When he reached my waist, I fought for breath, unsure how much lower he’d send that hand. Instead, he slid it underneath me and lifted me toward him, fitting me tighter against his body.

He stared at me the way only Mac did, as if he saw things no one else ever would. I refused to look away. Whatever he saw, it was his, if he wanted it. I wouldn’t hide from him.

“This isn’t…”

I didn’t let him finish. Whatever protest he was about to make, I had no interest in hearing it. I covered his mouth with my own, silencing all doubts.

The kiss radiated through my entire body until all I knew was Mac. I met his tongue and rocked my hips against his, wanting him more than I’d ever wanted food or warmth or air. His body and his touch, his lips and tongue and breath, they were everything. Absolutely everything.

When he pulled back, I chased his lips, a whimper escaping as my head rose off the pillow. Again, he captured my wrists, preventing me from touching him.

His breathing was ragged, his body as desperate as mine, but he fought to regain control. I writhed against him, reminding him how overrated control was in this particular situation.

He groaned, a low sound of pain and regret, and rolled off me in a single motion. He leaned against the closed door, putting painful distance between us.

I sat up. Frustration coursed through me, and it gave my words a sharper bite than I intended. “What? Seriously, what the hell is it this time?”

He didn’t look offended by my anger. If anything, he seemed to share it. “I think you’ve forgotten something,” he said. He shut his eyes tightly, as if even the sight of me was too much.

“Condoms? You know full-blooded elementals aren’t that fertile.” It wasn’t the most compelling argument, I had to admit. Teenage boys in the back seats of their cars had come up with more convincing excuses. “But if you’re worried, there are plenty of other things we can do.” I let my eyes drop to the front of his jeans, where there was still evidence that part of his body was open to hearing arguments.

Teenage boys had nothing on me.

His face contorted at my words, the battle for control still being waged. “No, not condoms,” he said. “We’re on a boat. Rather close quarters.”

“I can be quiet,” I said, lying through my teeth.

“Well, I can’t be. And even if we could, that’s not the problem. We’d still have to deal with, you know.” He jerked his head toward the door.

“With what?”

“Shifter ears,” said Simon, as clearly as if he were in the room with us.

No cold shower had ever been so effective. I flopped backwards on the bed and pulled a pillow over my face, hoping that would hide my humiliation. “They heard everything?” I whispered.

“Yep.” Miriam sounded far too amused by my pain and suffering.

That was it. I didn’t want much in life. A pony, sure. World peace, okay. But right then, more than anything in the world, I wanted some quality naked time with Mac before the madness consumed me, and this was one obstacle too many. I jumped to my feet and flung the door open, glaring at the two friends I kind of hated at that moment.

“Can you please leave us alone for an hour?” Mac muttered something behind me. I was underestimating his prowess. “Two hours?”

Simon looked at me, expression wry. “Let me be sure I understand this. You are asking me and Miriam to take the rowboat out in orca-infested waters just so you and Mac can finally consummate your relationship? This despite the fact that the two of you spent weeks actively
not
having sex when you could have done so in relative privacy?”

I nodded. “Exactly.”

Simon gave me the look I probably deserved. “No.”

Miriam shrugged. “Sorry, Brook. I hate to cock block you, but the cat has a point.”

I grumbled, loudly. I could accept their reasoning, but that didn’t mean I had to be gracious about it.

“We can take off for a bit tomorrow,” Miriam volunteered. I resisted giving her a grateful kiss. Just.

My joy was short lived as reality came crashing down. “We can’t. Tomorrow night, I have to try to cure Mac. This has gone on long enough. And during the day I should probably try to clear my father.” I was surprised to discover I meant that, too. Our relationship was complicated, to say the least, but Josiah had saved me today. I needed to try to repay that gift.

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