Chapter 21
Dina woke up in a bed with sheets that smelled like cedar and fresh soap. Scott’s smell. A sunny haze of light lit the trees outside, turning the evergreen leaves different shades of emerald. The things he’d said to her last night. Wanting to take his time with her. Oh goddess, it was enough to make her tingle with anticipation.
Only she wasn’t in his arms, and his side of the bed was cold. Dina rolled over. A sinking feeling grew in the pit of her belly. This had happened before. She would spend the night with someone, her feelings would get the better of her, and then in the morning they’d be gone.
When was the last time she’d been so gooey over someone like this, over a man especially? She wished she could lie in this bed all day, smelling Scott’s scent and not thinking about why he wasn’t here with her.
It was so peaceful, the bed sheets so soft and warm, maybe she could just close her eyes for a bit longer…
FUCK.
The wedding. The fucking wedding. Immy was going to murder her. Worse, Immy was going to have her hung, drawn, and quartered and served up on a platter labeled “Worst Maid of Honor in Existence, One of a Kind.” Dina hurled herself out of bed and out the door. And nearly careened into Scott who was walking back—deliciously shirtless—with a cup of steaming coffee in each hand.
“Whoa there,” he chuckled. “Where are you racing off to?”
“What time is it?” she squeaked. “We’re so screwed.”
“Dina, we’re fine. It’s seven-thirty. You just slept through the alarm. We have like two hours to get ready.”
“It’s seven-thirty…I slept through the alarm? I’ve never done that before.” Dina stopped in her tracks. What magic had this man performed on her last night to transform her into a heavy sleeper?
“Well, you did have quite a late night,” Scott said, barely able to keep the smugness off his face.
It was a good thing he had such a handsome face, otherwise pre-coffee Dina might have been tempted to wipe that smile right off. How had she never noticed the small scar above his right eyebrow before? Oh crap, she was mooning over him.
“Please say one of those is for me.” She eyed the steaming mugs in his hands.
“Short answer, yes. But I wasn’t sure what kind of coffee you drank, and you looked so cute sleeping—and snoring, by the way—”
“I do not snore.”
“Sure. Well, you were asleep so I didn’t want to wake you to ask, so I made, uh, a few different options.” Scott shrugged, handing Dina a mug. “This one’s just black, and there’s a latte and a cappuccino waiting for you in the kitchen.” She could get used to being treated like a princess. Wordlessly, Dina put down the cup of black coffee—her preferred form of coffee for first thing in the morning—and wrapped her arms around Scott’s neck, leaning in to meet his mouth with hers.
Scott let out a surprised groan of delight as she kissed him, and hastily placed his own cup of coffee down so he could fold Dina into his arms. Like she belonged there.
This kiss was different to any of last night’s. It was slower, deeper. Both of them taking their time, getting to know the touch of each other’s lips, breath mingling.
Scott broke away, placing a flurry of kisses along Dina’s cheek and jawline and neck, sending shivers through her that rolled right down to her toes. This kiss was sweet, and caring, and it was making her heart beat at a pace it only tended to reach during a heavy gym session.
“You smell like chocolate,” Scott murmured against the hollow of her collarbone. “Is it magic?”
Dina let out a laugh of delight. This man…this man was going to end her, he was so fucking cute.
“Not magic. Just cocoa butter. But we should probably talk about the magic.” She leaned back, but Scott’s arms remained wrapped around her, one hand slowly caressing the small of her back.
“Okay, we can talk about it.” His hands moved to grab her ass and scooped her up. Without thinking, Dina wrapped her legs around him.
“Scott, I said we need to talk about the magic!” She laughed as he carried her into the living room.
“We are, I just wanted to make you more comfortable,” Scott replied as he plonked Dina down onto a pile of cushions on the sofa.
“And you needed to carry me?” she called after him as he went to fetch their mugs of coffee.
Scott handed her the coffee, and she noticed that his hands were so large that his fingers enveloped the whole circumference of the mug. And she knew what those hands could do…
He looked at Dina, his eyes darkening as he sat beside her on the sofa.
“Yes,” he said responding to her question. “I—I can’t stop touching you, Dina. I don’t want to. I’ve wanted to touch you since, well, since we met.”
“Since we met? I wasn’t exactly at my best when we met at the café,” she said.
“Well, I wasn’t on my best form that day either, but that didn’t stop me noticing how beautiful you were.”
God help her, she was blushing. Dina tucked one of her curls behind her ear.
“The magic,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Right. Are you going to make me guess what you are in some kind of convoluted Twilight -style reveal? I can do the whole spider-monkey thing if you’re into it.” Scott grinned.
“I’m sorry, but are you insinuating that you’ve seen Twilight ?”
“I have two mums, of course I’ve seen Twilight. ”
“Consider me impressed. But no, I wasn’t going to make you guess. I think it’s fairly obvious—I’m a witch.” Dina exhaled. Just saying the word in front of Scott felt like a weight being lifted.
He knew now; he knew the secret she only shared with a select few. Maybe this was self-sabotage, and he was about to run a mile. But then again she’d already shown him her moonlight spell, and he hadn’t run away from her then.
“I know you’re a witch, Dina,” Scott said, his voice low and soft. She looked up and met his eyes. Warm, inviting. He wasn’t pushing her away. “And I hope you know this, but your secret is safe with me. I love that you have magic, and I love that you trust me enough to share that part of yourself with me.”
She squeezed his hand and he let out a hiss. Dina looked down, noticing an angry burn on the back of Scott’s hand.
“What happened?” she asked.
“It’s nothing, I just burned myself with the kettle this morning by accident.”
“Well, it doesn’t look like nothing. Here, let me…” She placed both hands over the burn and muttered a small spell in Darija. A warm light glowed against Scott’s skin for a moment, and she heard him sigh. When she lifted her hands the burn was healed to a silver scar.
It was just a burn, she told herself. It couldn’t be the hex. Not yet. It was too soon.
“You beautiful witch,” Scott growled, and pulled her onto his lap. Dina’s legs straddled his waist, and she became acutely aware of the fact that she was wearing nothing but a cotton camisole and a pair of knickers.
Scott’s palms trailed down her arms, sending shivers across her back—and lower. Her nipples hardened to points, arousal flaring inside her.
“ How am I supposed to go and get ready when you’re over here looking like this?” he said roughly, his eyes dark. His thumb stroked her nipple over her top and she let out a soft moan.
Scott tugged down her camisole and his lips found her breast, his warm tongue caressing her nipple, before he bit her ever so gently with his teeth. Shockwaves of desire rippled through Dina, her back arching.
He ran his hand over her knickers.
“So wet for me already,” he hissed.
The prospect of getting ready for the wedding felt far away as she pressed herself close to Scott’s chest, feeling the fast thrum of his heart. He was as wild for her as she was for him.
Her fingers teased their way down his chest and the line of dark hair that disappeared into his jogging bottoms.
His cock was already hard, and the feel of it pushing against his trousers, solid and thick, left her panting.
“Dina, let me taste you again,” Scott rumbled, his face buried between her breasts, his fingers tugging at her underwear.
“Yes,” she whispered back. She couldn’t get her knickers off fast enough.
And then, at the worst possible moment, just as Scott’s fingers teased the entrance of her swollen pussy, there were three knocks at the door. A shadow was visible through the small convex window that was set into it, but Dina couldn’t tell who it was.
Scott groaned and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, his fingers reluctantly sliding away from her pussy to rest on her thigh. Oh, she was aching for him.
“Who is it?” Scott called out with gritted teeth.
“It’s Martin. I’ve been sent to, er, deliver a message. From the bride and groom.” For a moment, panic flushed through Dina and she looked over at the clock that hung above the fireplace. But no, it was only seven forty-five—she still had ages to get ready before she needed to go and help Immy with her dress.
“What’s the message?” Dina asked. She was glad that Martin hadn’t asked to be let inside; she didn’t feel like getting off Scott’s lap just yet. From the way his arms grasped her ass cheeks, she was sure he didn’t want that either.
“They wanted me to say, and these were their words exactly: ‘Just a reminder that you can’t spend all day bonking, because you have a wedding to attend.’?”
Dina barely stifled a laugh.
“Was that it?”
Martin cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yes, that’s all.”
“Well, thanks for checking in, Martin. You can tell the bride and groom not to worry, we’ll save our bonking for later,” Scott said.
“Right. Good.” And then Martin’s shadow was gone, and they heard his shuffling footsteps heading back along the path.
Scott turned back to Dina.
“Who says ‘bonking’?” He exhaled a laugh.
“That would be Immy.”
“Ah, I should have known. It seems like we have our orders.” He stared at her breasts mournfully.
“Did you mean what you said?” Dina asked.
“About what?”
“About saving our, um, bonking for later.”
Scott smiled, and moved his head toward Dina’s, meeting her lips with his own. She savored the warmth of his mouth, the taste of him. Scott tipped her face to the side, his mouth meeting her ear.
“Oh, believe me, I meant it.”