Chapter 18 Ezra #2
Quinn flushed but crawled onto the bed. Unlike Xan and me, with one leg out and the other bent toward the middle of the map, Quinn tucked her legs tight, carefully not to touch. She looked so small between us.
Xan shifted, giving her space. I did not.
“There are four families who control Edinburgh and surround my castle.” Xan pointed at different sections of the map.
“The McDonald Clan has the largest area, including farmland to the south. The Abernathys control the castle at the bottom of The Mile and all of Holyrood to our west. The Griersons to our north hold Leith and most of the coast, though most of the old city is abandoned between us and them.” He cleared his throat.
“Finally, the Westwaters control central Edinburgh and skirt the edges of The Green.”
“What about the Tate family and the Moores?” Quinn bit the side of her lip. “And the Lawsons?”
I held back a growl at her reference to the other men in her life.
“The Moores’ control is in London,” my lover explained.
“Which technically means little here, but overall, their family has more power and money than those just in Edinburgh.” He pointed to a single spot on the northern outskirts.
“The Tates trace their roots from before BT. But they’ve fallen.
They still own their family home and have enough wealth to survive, but their relevance has vanished.
Rowan’s exit from his unfulfilled contract has sealed their fate. ”
Quinn wrinkled her nose and dropped her gaze.
My lover opened our carefully curated book of scrawl, detailing family connections, and put it on top of the map. He gave me another little nod of thanks for including it, and I pointedly looked at Quinn.
Xan took a breath and gestured to the first page. “We’ll start with the Abernathys…”
Quinn’s breathing was steady, if a little shallow, as she leaned closer to the glowing scrawl and listened.
Xan’s lecture on the families naturally transitioned into the source of magic itself.
Her fidgeting between us eased the longer Xan talked, and she slowly relaxed her legs. Her knee brushed mine.
She needed to know how I felt. I needed to know what my lover wanted. If either of them said no, I’d back away.
But someone had to break this endless stalemate.
I set my hand on her thigh. Calluses against cream. She didn’t flinch.
Xan’s voice caught, and his next word came out as a squeak.
Quinn flushed and didn’t look at me or my hand. “Is the theory, then, that the tremors created magic? Or is magic a natural part of evolution?”
Xan took an almost desperate breath before controlling himself. “That’s a hot debate. I prefer the idea that magic had been evolving inside humans for years before the tremors. Others believe magic is a direct result of the tremors.”
Quinn’s gaze unfocused.
My hand stayed on her thigh. I slid a finger under her tunic.
Her blush was the only sign she felt it.
She didn’t stop me, just leaned forward, pointing at the Lawson bloodline, what little of it we knew.
I looked for any sign to stop, any minute discomfort, a word from my lover who could feel what she felt. Nothing. My heart hammered in my chest.
“The Lawsons have built a massive wall around their compound, though their lands are expansive, stretching far south. But yes, compared to the other families, we have little information, and it’s the root of the rumors about their inbreeding.”
Xan’s gaze drifted to Quinn’s crisscrossed legs and my fingers. Each pass made me braver until I slipped a finger under the boxers she’d borrowed from Xan. My gaze dropped to the sweet junction between her legs. I hadn’t taken my time with women before. Quinn made me want to.
I glanced at my lover, only to find his face the color of a tomato as he pulled out our map of the Lawsons’ borders. I willed him to follow my lead, to move closer or tell me to stop, any clue of what was going through his mind. But like Quinn, he focused on the map.
“The Lawsons are both in control and not.” A husky tremor shook his voice. “Very little is actually known about the family. But they are wealthy, and one of the few producers of wine on the island.”
I didn’t want to be talking about her too-close friend anymore. I ran my palm up her thigh, tantalizingly close to that sweet junction, and up her hip, tracing its shape and memorizing it.
Quinn didn’t pull away; if anything, she leaned toward me.
“…they keep to themselves,” my lover continued.
“But I estimate their fortune to be bigger than the rest of the families combined, as well as their numbers. Based on Cayden’s abilities, the family’s magic has not diminished at the rate of the Abernathys or the McDonalds.
But Cayden is the first Lawson to leave the compound in… ”
I could feel her attention split between my lover’s words and my motions. I slid higher. Under cloth. Heat waiting.
She closed her eyes, her breaths speeding up.
“…the placement of the families…”
I looked pointedly at my lover, who glanced at me and then at her, his lecture never stopping. I needed to know he wanted this too.
‘Touch her. Or stop me.’
For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t. He turned back to the map.
His hand joined mine.
Blood rushed. Weeks of tension cracked open.
“Quinn, are you paying attention?” he asked.
Quinn opened her eyes, studying my lover’s hand, then mine, before turning her attention back to her studies. “It’s just a lot of names. Can we go over it again?”
She hadn’t asked him to remove his hand either, nor had she commented on my hand, which was still under her tunic, running up and down her spine. My lungs fought for air. We had to go slow. Quinn’s first instinct was to run; I couldn’t give her the chance.
“Of course.” My lover rotated his palm and caressed the inside of her thigh, just like I had.
I dragged my nails lightly down her back, out from under her tunic, over her hips, and down, this time brushing her junction so lightly the fabric didn’t even dent. My nails skimmed her back. His palm pressed her thigh. She trembled between us, caught in sync.
Xan caught my gaze and held it. I’d watched and waited long enough. It was time to move, to act. If he didn’t want this, if she didn’t want this, it would stop.
We hovered, all three of us, on the edge. No words. Just breath. Just want.
She pressed her hand to the map, shifting her hips. “The four families, again?”
“McDonald…” my lover started, still copying my motions as he explored under her tunic.
I purred. Xan pressed closer, squishing her between us as she learned.