Chapter Thirteen
Ryder
It isn’t that I like Senán.
Why would I? They’re arrogant and moody, and they clearly think they have me completely under their heel, which is definitely not true. I’m just looking for some fun, and Senán is providing it. When I can find them, that is.
I’m normally not a fan of playing hard to get.
Mostly because I’m not very good at it. But I don’t want it to look like I’m trying to turn our…
whatever, arrangement into something it isn’t.
It’s a fling—an opportunity for both of us to work off a little steam.
But I still have an awful lot of steam left, and now, with only two more days before my flight back to DC, I find myself spending most of my time patrolling the grounds of the resort, trying to look casual while hoping to catch a flash of black fabric whipping around a corner or an electric rush prickling on my skin.
I check my phone as I wander through the empty pool area—nearly ten PM.
I’ve always thought of Witches as being nocturnal, but a lot of my thoughts on Witches have been challenged the past few days.
Just as I’m wondering whether Senán has gone to bed for the night, I feel the familiar warm chill seeping into my spine, and I scan my deserted surroundings.
There are countless places they could be hiding, even if they didn’t have the power of literal invisibility on their side.
They could be behind a hedge, or in one of the cabanas…
As if on cue, the lights and jets in the jacuzzi turn on at the same time, beckoning me into its steaming, enticing depths. I smile. Sure, I could go for a dip.
I undress quickly and climb into the hot tub in my underwear, taking only a passing notice of an odd shadow underneath the surface.
The water is the perfect temperature, and my body starts to relax immediately, my eyes closing with a long sigh at the feeling of water jets massaging my back and fingernails dragging up my legs.
My arms stay draped over the sides of the tub as two slender hands creep past my knees, kneading the flesh of my thighs, fingers sliding under the hem of my boxer briefs. I move my knees further apart to make room for shoulders to settle between them.
I slip my arms into the water to cup the cut jawline, brush my fingertips over soft lips that open to bring my thumb inside the warm, waiting mouth.
I wonder idly what sort of Magick would allow someone to breathe underwater, but the thought drifts away as the hands start to fondle me through my underwear.
With the combination of deft hands working me up and the tongue swirling over the pad of my thumb, I can already tell I have little hope of keeping myself quiet or restrained.
Fingers curl over my waistband and I lift my hips to allow them to be pulled down and off, feeling a shuffle as Senán tucks them under his knees to keep them from floating to the surface.
I move my thumb out of the way—an invitation—and try not to think about whether my moan can be heard over the sound of the water jets as Senán takes my cock slowly into his mouth.
I lean my head against the side of the tub, giving myself over to the wet heat all around me and the talented tongue working its way down my length.
Senán is taking his time, which is absolutely fucking peachy because I am in no hurry.
All the other hotel guests seem to have gone back to their rooms for the night, and Senán and I have the pool area entirely—
Incoming call:
Work
I jump at the sound of my phone ringing, which is immediately followed by an even harsher jolt of anxiety at the sight of the caller ID. It’s after midnight at the office—a call at this hour isn’t a friendly check-in.
The warm mouth and hands leave me as Senán pops his head out of the water. I look at him and blink, still trying to navigate the mental shift of getting a work call mid-blowjob.
“Your hair’s not wet,” I say stupidly.
“It’s called a dry spell. Water doesn’t affect me from the neck up—that’s also how I’ve been able to breathe down there, thank you for your concern. Are you going to answer that?”
I look back at my phone, still ringing with the caller ID very clearly visible.
“Seems important,” Senán says. I look at Senán again, then at my phone, then pick up the call, clearing my throat before I speak.
“Ryder,” I say in the most professional voice I can muster in all of my anxiety and horniness.
“Wow, how come you’ve never answered the phone like that for me before?”
I relax immediately when I hear whose voice it is. “Nix, why the hell are you calling me from the office line?”
“I’m in the copy room. I get no reception down here.”
“Okay, but why are you still at work? Isn’t it, like, one in the morning there?” Feeling much more comfortable now that I know this isn’t actually a work call, I reach out to Senán, trying to pull him closer, but Senán backs away.
“Oh, fuck, you’re right,” Nix says. “I’ve been in paperwork hell for hours. Ever since Ash left I’m having to make all my own copies, so since I’m stuck here it seemed like a good time to call you with some good news.”
I try to signal silently to Senán that I’m talking to a friend, that there’s nothing to worry about, but he just eyes me dubiously and stays hovering a yard away from me in the center of the hot tub.
I glance at my phone, trying to think of a not-suspicious-sounding way to end the call, and I get an idea.
“For sure. Hey, Nix, I’m actually out by the pool right now, can I put you on speaker? Don’t wanna drop my phone in the water.”
“Huh? Oh, sure—can I talk about work, though?”
Maybe it’s my hard-on talking, but I can’t think of any work conversation I’d feel the need to keep secret from Senán at this point. I hit the button for speaker and set my phone down next to the tub. “Go for it.”
“Sick. So, yeah, I just wanted to be the first to tell you that the Fae have officially unionized.”
My face lights up. “That’s great!” I say earnestly.
“Unionizing” is the term we use at the Bureau for a certain legal process—a group of supernatural entities joining together to lobby for representation and produce changes in regulations they have a problem with.
The Witches were the first to do it, in the 1970s.
Next were the Werewolves, at the end of the 20th century.
Unionizing is, as I’ve learned in my years of public service, the only way that any of the beings we govern are able to maintain a decent level of agency over their communities, and the only way they can address the countless ways our government can be unjust or underserving.
I’ve been working on it for months—years, really, if you consider the amount of time I spent researching precedent.
The Fae were initially cagey about outside help—from a Bureau Agent, no less—but I stuck with it.
Obviously, it’s bigger for the Fae than for me, but I can still be a little proud of it.
And now, Senán looks—impressed? Hard to say, seeing as I don’t think I’ve ever seen Senán look impressed before, but “impressed” seems like an accurate description.
“I know,” Nix continues. “Happened this morning—well, yesterday morning, now, I guess. Just thought you’d wanna know since that project was kinda your baby.”
Senán slides closer and plants one knee on either side of my hips, and I’m starting to think my work with the Fae might be paying off even more than I’d anticipated.
“I appreciate the call,” I say, hoping to end it soon and get back to what I’d been up to before my phone rang.
“Yeah, like I said,” Nix says, oblivious, “I wanted to be the first to tell you. So how are things going with The Wicked Witch of West Hollywood?”
… Fuck.
“Uh…”
“Did you two hook up yet or are you still being a moron?”
Fucking hell, Nix. I glance at Senán, expecting him to slap me, or worse, leave. But he only looks amused, smirking down at me and tilting his head to one side, like he’s waiting for me to respond.
Well. Senán does seem the type to enjoy being bragged about.
“I’ve made some headway,” I say, wrapping my hands around his hips, which are hovering just far enough away from my dick to drive me insane in the best way.
“Thank fucking God. I was worried you still had your head up your ass. You’re having fun, though, right? It’s going good?”
“Very.”
Senán preens and twirls a loose curl of my hair around his index finger.
“‘Very good,’ how? Like, I don’t need details, just gimme the headline version.”
I take a second to find the words, thinking back on the week and a half of chasing and catching and commensurate rewards, the excitement and the release, the elfin features hovering over me with a look that says I know I’m in control of this situation and I know that you like it.
“High maintenance, but worth it,” I tell Nix.
Senán beams down at me and presses his body close, close enough that my cock rubs against the tiny swim shorts he’s wearing.
My mind flashes back to the wall of the bathroom by the pool, and suddenly I can’t think of much else besides getting off the phone with Nix and getting back to business with Senán.
“Sorry about the paperwork,” I say quickly, “I’ll let you get on with it.”
“I’m just waiting for the copier to finish, but it’s gonna take, like, half an hour.
” Nix has a lot of strong points, but knowing when she’s overstayed her welcome is not one of them.
I guess Senán doesn’t want to wait for the call to end because he immediately sinks back into the water and, like the beautiful maniac he is, takes me into his mouth again.
I make a choked-off sound and cover my mouth with my hand. “And before you start nagging,” Nix continues, “I would have gotten Paige to help, but she’s out on a field assignment. And Sieger’s off on some classified cross-country bullshit.”