Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOUR
Tripp Nightshade.
Here! In her storeroom! Okay, not hers , but she worked here, and that sort of made it her space, right?
And he showed up in the middle of an embarrassing conversation! Although, it hadn’t been thoroughly humiliating until Elara realized he’d been lurking in the shadows and probably heard everything.
With a box full of dildos staring her in the face!
OH, GOD! OH, GOD! OH, GOD!
Don’t speak, Elara! Don’t speak! Keep your trap shut, or who the hell knows what will come out?
His lips quirked as if he guessed her struggle, and her hard-won cool deserted her. But if she were honest, she’d never ever maintained a hard-won cool in her entire life. Hell, she’d never even experienced one, much less maintained it.
Glancing at Florence, Elara experienced a moment of surprise. Her boss’s scowl wasn’t standard irritation and appeared as more of a worrisome frown.
What did she have to be concerned about?
Tripp?
In fairness, the power radiating off of him was intense. To a witch of Florence’s standing, his presence had to feel like a challenge, especially if she hadn’t known he was planning to pop in. Although Tripp frequented Never Too Many to pick up his weekly book order, he didn’t linger, and Florence rarely spoke to him other than a grudging “Thank you for buying local.”
“Uh…” What could Elara say? Ever since the moment he left her in her apartment, in a pool of delirious desire, her ability to speak had been severely hampered. Even on her best day, she wasn’t a grand conversationalist, but now? Yeah, well, she was snowed under by all her insecurities.
Seeming to ignore the vibe, he squatted down and fisted a hand in her hair.
“Go away, Flo,” he ordered.
He could’ve knocked Elara over with a heavy sigh when her boss left them alone.
Tilting her head back, Tripp stared moodily at her lips before muttering, “Aww, fuck it.”
His mouth covered hers, and it didn’t occur to her to object or take offense. Not when she wanted him to kiss her as badly as she did. Like last week, lightning flashed, thunder rumbled, and the earth quaked, but she figured it was her brain exploding inside her skull. Because never in her wildest dreams had she imagined he tasted so wonderful. Or that every delicious swirl of his tongue would bring the decadent flavors of espresso and dark chocolate brownies.
She moaned her pleasure, leaning into him. Before she could register the position shift, she was straddling him and gripping his head hard enough to snap it off his shoulders. The last part was made clear when he reached up and gently tugged her wrists. With a gasp, she rocked backward and stared into his smoldering eyes.
“Is this why every woman throws herself in your path? They’ve experienced this… this…” She gestured between their faces. “You know. This .”
His bemused expression transformed to amused, and he grinned.
“Elara, my dear flitter-mouse, what is it you believe I do all day long? Drag unsuspecting townsfolk into dark alleys and kiss them senseless?”
When he put it that way…
She scowled. “No! But I thought maybe a few, and that people liked to brag, so word spread.”
“There are rumors about me dragging people into alleyways?”
Narrowing her eyes, she flicked his ear. “You are purposely mocking me.”
“Yes, and it’s wildly amusing,” he admitted, settling his hands on her hips.
“Well, knock it off. I’m not an uptight virgin.”
His lips compressed, and she was shocked to see dimples etched in his cheeks. After a yearlong study of his features, she thought she knew every square inch of his face. How the hell had she missed those delightful dips?
“When did you develop dimples?” she demanded, disregarding both the fact he was laughing at her and that he’d labeled her a mouse. He wasn’t the only one to ever do either, but his teasing wasn’t malicious.
“What?” He didn’t bother to hide his humor-filled snort.
“Have you always had them?”
“Always.” His gaze grew tender as he stroked the skin along her jawline with his thumb. “Maybe you’ve simply never seen me with my guard down.”
He was right.
“Why? Why is it you’re never relaxed enough to laugh or smile?”
“I have. With you,” he replied in a patient, wait-for-it tone.
“But…” Thinking back, she recalled that she avoided looking at him whenever she’d believed she’d made a spectacle of herself. Of course she’d missed seeing him amused! She’d been afraid of his mockery.
Cradling the nape of her neck, he drew her in for a quick buss on the lips. “There it is.”
Heat surged into her face.
“Never be embarrassed for being who you are, Elara. You’re beautiful.”
She froze.
He’d just lied to her.
Baldfaced.
Looking her right in the eye.
Shoving his arms away, she scrambled off him.
“Elara?”
Halfway to the door, she turned back, lifted her chin, and glared. “You’re a dick.”
“What just happened?” he asked as if he were walking through a wildflower field planted atop landmines.
“You lied!”
Losing his neutral expression, he stared in apparent shock. “What?”
“I’m plain, not beautiful. And you can take your stupid games elsewhere, Tripp Nightshade! I won’t be made fun of.”
She ran.
“Escape! Escape! Escape!” drummed through her mind, drowning out everything but her panicked need to flee.
Left sitting next to a box of super-sized dildos, Tripp was stupified.
“Well, don’t you feel like an asshole?” a female asked him.
He glanced up in time to see Elara’s sister lean away from the wall she’d been resting against. With one leg propped up and the other swinging back and forth alongside the trunk she perched upon, she blew a giant pink bubble. When it popped, she peeled it off her face, shoved it in her mouth, and masticated the gum.
“Yes, and I don’t understand why,” he agreed with a head shake. Drawing his legs up to hide his semi-erection from making out with Elara, he looped his arms, clasping his hands together. “Got any clues as to why your sister doesn’t believe she’s worthy of praise?”
“Plenty. None I’m willing to share with you.” Payton rose and sauntered around the room.
“How long have you been sitting there? Cloaked, if I’m not mistaken.”
And how the hell had she managed to avoid detection? Surely he wasn’t so distracted by Elara to leave himself vulnerable? Recalling their kiss and her swollen, glistening lips, he had to allow he might’ve been.
“Not long,” Payton admitted. “About the time she said she wasn’t an uptight virgin.”
She cast a significant glance at the box and smirked. The look was telling.
“Your sister’s a virgin?” He wanted to slam his head against the wall as penance for being stupid.
Payton rolled her eyes. “Dude. Is any female a virgin over eighteen?”
“Don’t make it sound like she’s promiscuous,” he growled, irritated on Elara’s behalf. “She’s not.”
“Sorry.” Contrition was reflected on her lovely face. “I didn’t mean it that way. Just that I don’t know any person who hasn’t had a sexual encounter. Elara included.”
He nodded but found his irritation had increased instead of dying away. The idea of Elara with anyone but him was triggering.
“Right. Well, I’ll leave you to… uh, all this…” Tripp stood, barely catching himself from gesturing to the adult toys. Something like that would go over like a lead balloon, especially when he only meant for her to tag and ship them.
Her expression turned uncomfortable, and she opened her mouth twice before closing it again.
“What is it, Payton?”
“Could you, um, not let anyone know you’ve seen me?”
“Dailey doesn’t know you’re back?” he asked.
“No, and I’d like to keep it that way.” Her chin pointed skyward, and in her defiant gesture, he saw the resemblance to Elara. That, more than anything, had him agreeing.
As he turned to go, he remembered what he’d come for. Tripp scanned the rickety old shelves until his gaze touched on the magical objects that had called to him.
Those blasted boots!
They equaled catastrophe.
Reaching for them, he received the shock of his life.
Literal electrocution.
And the zap sent him flying backward, straight into Elara’s box of dildos.
They scattered, and everywhere one looked, there was a plethora of pleasure sticks.
Payton stared in horrified amusement. With her palms pressed to her mouth, she did her damnedest not to laugh.
“Did you do that?” he growled.
“What?”
“Charm that package.”
Her gaze followed his to the bane of his existence, and she shook her head, eyes wide with wonder.
With a savage curse, he rose and approached the box addressed to Elara, then swore again. Twice as long and three times as loud.
His hiding spot was blown, and it meant disappearing.
Pronto.
But he couldn’t leave this mess at Elara’s door. Mother had not only found him , she found the one woman who would destroy an entire town if he left her with the fatal footwear. It wasn’t the first time Brelenia of Messia had sent them to a female she believed Tripp was interested in, but this time, he intended to see they were weighted in cement and deposited at the bottom of the ocean. Elara wasn’t equipped to deal with the fallout if he didn’t.
He was gearing up to attempt another snatch and run when the bloody package vanished with a poof of smoke. The sinking in quicksand sensation he experienced stole his breath, and he feared hyperventilation.
“What was in that box?” Payton had enough presence of mind to be wary of him and the item he’d fixated on.
“Something that I should’ve destroyed a long time ago.”
“Why was it addressed to my sister?”
He met her worried gaze. Payton was right to be fearful, and he appreciated the hell out of her instincts. “We need to get to your sister before she opens it. Come on!”