Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
QUINN
I wish I had a relationship road map. All this jumping around we’re doing is making it hard to figure out exactly where I am. Or where I should be. We’ve mixed up all the steps and added in a few extra.
Business associates.
Dating.
Not speaking.
Sharing our most intimate, supernatural secret.
Avoidance.
Seduction.
Sex in his ice cream shop.
More avoidance.
Making out in a parking lot.
Flirty date that cannot lead to more.
At least not yet.
I thought I had a handle on the situation, but then we sat down at this restaurant, and I can’t help wanting to fast-forward. Or maybe rewind. Whatever gets me back to August’s hands all over me, like we’re alone in Land of Ice Cream and Snow again.
So you can melt everything? Or maybe you’ll just fully commit and set this building on fire.
These diners did not pay for those kinds of pyrotechnics.
Luckily, shortly after our food arrives, August asks me about my work. I love my career, but math doesn’t make me horny in the slightest. Plus, my date doesn’t seem to mind as I prattle on about spreadsheets.
There are some exciting aspects to my job though.
“I ran the numbers five times, and they didn’t change. The owner had hired me because he was worried one of his employees was skimming off the top. The guy set up hidden cameras. Turns out, all his employees were on the up and up.”
“So, who was it?” August leans forward in his chair.
“His wife! Since she knew his schedule and had keys to everything, she snuck in when he was gone and took cash from the safe and altered the receipts.”
“Wow. That’s some sneaky shit.”
“I know! There’s an Airhead in town who works as a PI.
I gave the owner her card. Apparently, the wife had a boyfriend on the side with gambling debts.
” I fork up a bite of my spicy corn dish, enjoying August’s baffled look.
After a swallow of wine, I smirk at him.
“Bet you thought the job of an accountant was boring.”
The Ice Elemental grins at me across the table. “Nothing about you is boring.”
And there he goes again, heating me up. His words are like a hand reaching inside me, throwing another log on my internal fire. I down half my glass of water, hoping it’ll help.
Since him complimenting me is having such a dangerous effect, I decide to shift the conversation his way.
“Enough about the exciting world of accounting. Let’s get back to what’s important.” I point my utensil at him. “Ice cream.”
August chuckles. “What do you want to know?”
We’re getting to the end of the meal, which means I’m craving dessert. If I am being honest, I don’t want to bother with whatever this place has on its menu. If I could choose, we’d pay our bill and head to Land of Ice Cream and Snow.
But I can’t go there anymore. Not until I get control of my powers.
Hopefully, that happens in my lifetime.
“Flavors. How do you think of them? Any major fails? What are you working on now?”
My date’s smile widens, and in between bites of his taco, he waxes poetic about his culinary craft.
And I’m simultaneously fascinated and pissed at myself.
Why did I think this direction of conversation would help put a restraint on my attraction?
Would it be weird if I dumped the rest of my water on my lap to cool down my lady parts?
Probably. This joint is too classy for that.
The waiter must somehow telepathically pick up on my neediness because he chooses the moment August is going into detail about the strawberry rhubarb sherbet he’s crafting to deliver us the dessert menu.
Since I know a visit to his shop is out of the question—as well as licking every inch of the man—I search for the most decadent item available.
Chocolate lava cake.
Fitting, seeing as how if anyone were to puncture me with a spoon, they’d discover my middle was a melted mess too.
August opts for the tiramisu.
The man lets out a happy hum when he spoons up the first bite.
I, meanwhile, squirm in my seat and shuck off Cat’s cardigan in an attempt to cool my skin.
“This is on my list of flavors to try creating. Just want to choose my favorite local coffee shop first and buy a few bags of their beans.” August explains all this as he studies his treat, picking apart the layers with a keen eye.
“Sounds delicious,” I murmur, my gaze tracing around the room until I spot a guy chewing with his mouth open.
Gross.
Perfect.
The sight of a stranger’s saliva mixing with soggy food bits quickly stifles my arousal, and the magical pulse slows from a rush to a trickle.
But what really helps is the blast of chilly air I’m hit with.
Glancing across the table in search of the source, I realize August has lost interest in his dessert.
The Ice Elemental is staring at me, and despite the huge meal we just ate, he looks hungry.
“You took your cover-up off,” he rasps.
Damn the gods.
My sex doesn’t interest me shield is down, and now August has an unobstructed view of my perfect cleavage.
My internal heat picks back up again, which causes the skin of my chest to flush red.
August’s swallow is visible and has me longing to lick his Adam’s apple.
“I need to pee!” The proclamation comes out in a panic, and I almost knock over my chair as I stand up and stride toward the restroom.
Multiple people give me strange looks as I dodge around tables in a desperate bid for the restroom.
Alone in the tiled space, I turn the cold tap on the sink, thrusting my hands and then my forearms under the stream.
I wish I could douse my entire body, but trying to climb into a sink is a good way to get booted from this fancy restaurant.
Instead, I splash my neck, the cool droplets sizzling immediately, like grease on a hot grill.
“Damn the gods,” I mutter out loud this time, glaring at my reflection.
“Don’t fuck this up. You’re a badass, and badasses don’t burn down buildings.
” Shutting off the water, I pace and fan myself while sucking deep, hopefully calming breaths.
“He’s attractive, but you can handle it. Just focus on his flaws. Like how he …”
…
…
I got nothing.
“Come on. No one is perfect. Flaw … flaw … think of a flaw …”
He’s related to Sammy.
But that’s not really August’s fault.
He was just staring at my chest for a good minute.
But who can blame him? My boobs are awesome.
I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel of what can be considered a failing when my memory snags on something.
“Socks!”
The woman who opens the restroom door the same time I shout the word gives me a startled look and hesitates to move forward. Like she’s scared to use the facilities if there’s an odd woman yelling out clothing items in the same room.
Whatever. If she doesn’t need to pee bad enough to ignore me, then she can hold it.
I return to the sink to dunk my hands under cold water again as I focus on August’s flaw.
The guy dressed up for this date, wearing nice slacks and a button-up shirt that stretched over his chest in a beautiful way. He even had on a shiny pair of black dress shoes.
That he paired with white socks.
The faux pas!
When August sat down and his pants legs inched up, I saw the color clash and dismissed it. Now I focus all my attention on the one thing August tripped up on.
White socks with black dress shoes? So not sexy.
The woman eventually decides to join me in the restroom, so I can’t give myself any more pep talks. After drying my hands off, I head back out to the dining room. When I reach the table, my date gives me a concerned look.
“Everything good?”
Forcing my eyes away from his caring expression, I drop my gaze to below the table, getting a clear view of his ankles.
Look at those white socks. They’re so bright. I bet he’d wear them during sex.
Stop thinking about sex!
“All good!” I decide the best course of action is to simply not look at him, focusing on my dessert instead. The problem is, combining the taste of chocolate in my mouth with being near August is a new equation that equals inferno disaster.
“They came by with the check while you were in the restroom. I hope you don’t mind that I paid.”
This catches my attention, and I pop my eyes back up to scowl at him. “I do mind. Tell me how much I owe you.”
“Would you believe your meal was free?” His attempt to appear innocent fails.
“No.”
“Even if it’s Redhead Day?”
That has me fighting a smile, and I twist my lips to the side as I try to maintain my indignation. Before I tamp it down enough to respond, August holds up a staying hand.
“How about, since I chose this date, I cover it? You choose the next date, and you cover that one. Does that work?”
Scooping up the last of my dessert, I ponder the offer, then nod. “Acceptable.”
His wide grin is a warm glow in this dim lighting.
“What’s got you so cheerful?”
August reaches a hand across the table to snag mine. “To me, it sounds like you just agreed to go out with me again.”
“Well, duh.” Even white socks couldn’t keep me away.
But the way my internal flames respond to the teasing of his hand tells me this date should probably wrap up soon. We’ve risked enough tonight, and I need to recuperate.
Seeming to think along the same lines, August rises from his chair and scoops up my cardigan, holding it for me to step into. When we’re back in his car, he doesn’t start it right away, turning toward me like he plans to say something.
In a panic, I speak first. “I have an early meeting tomorrow.” Not a lie, as long as you consider nine a.m. early.
“No worries.” August gives me a small smile, then buckles his seat belt and starts the engine. “I’ll take you home.”
Damn. I sounded way too eager to be done with this date. When, really, what I’m anxious for is figuring out some method to control my powers when I’m in his presence so I can rip his clothes off whenever the urge takes me.
“Are you free on Thursday night?” I ask. “For our next date?”
August pauses with his hand on the gearshift, tilting his head to look at me. “Let me check with my staff. Just need to make sure someone is at the shop.”
Okay. That’s kind of a yes. A responsible I have other responsibilities yes.
But, gods, I’m so in my head about stepping the right way, saying the right thing, not thinking too many dirty thoughts. Our communication suddenly seems stilted, and I worry we’re moving in the wrong direction on the relationship map that I don’t have access to.
The drive back to my house is quiet. I keep opening my mouth to start a conversation, but I’m concerned that the more I learn about him, the sexier he’ll become, and then I’ll accidentally melt his tires in the middle of the highway.
I know from personal experience, that is no fun and not something AAA is used to dealing with.
When we reach the street in front of my house, I breathe out a sigh that is half relief, half disappointment. Then I want to stab myself in the leg when I glance over to see August’s tight mouth.
What is he thinking?
Probably all the wrong things.
When his car rolls to a stop, August lets out his own sigh. One of defeat.
Oh no. No, no, no.
“Listen, Quinn—”
“No,” I say the second before I lean over to his side, clasping his sturdy jaw in both my hands.
Tires be damned.
When I press my mouth to his, August doesn’t respond at first. That is, until I lick his lower lip.
Then he’s all in. Suddenly, I’m sucking on the most delicious Popsicle stick, the chill seeping through the whole of my body, taking the strain off all the internal muscles I used to stifle my heat for the last few hours.
As we make out and August gets turned on, everything becomes easier.
It would be great if I could count this as a solution.
But it’s not.
I need control all the time, not just when I’m pressed up against a lusty Ice Elemental.
Still, I allow myself this treat, shivering as he groans. The sound reverberates down my throat, and I want to consume more of him.
That’s not smart though, so I pull back. Retreating is difficult to do. Partly because I only want to get closer, but also because there’s a strong arm wrapped around my waist.
“Gods, Quinn,” August moans, dropping his forehead to mine.
The longing in his voice matches the twisting in my chest, but I also find myself smiling with hope.
“You’re bordering on blasphemy,” I murmur.
“You’re a goddess,” he responds.
That has me chuckling, the sound deep and husky. “Okay. Now I definitely need to get out of this car before they smite you with a bolt of lightning.”
The Goddess of Fire can be a jealous bitch, or so the legends say.
With reluctance, August lets his arm fall away, and I reach for the door handle.
“Did you have fun?”
The question comes as I’m about to step out, and I can’t help thinking his voice was tinged with a note of doubt.
Another reason I despise the wall my power erects between us. I never want August to question how much I want him. Glancing over my shoulder, I let my desire show. The eager force curves my lips in a wistful smile.
“More than you know. And more than is safe.”
Then I leave, exhaling in relief when I spot a set of four fully inflated tires.