Chapter 10
Cece curled into a tighter ball in the bed and buried her head under the multiple blankets.
She stuck her arm out from under the blankets and groped blindly for her phone on the nightstand, muttering a curse when her numb fingers almost dropped it.
She checked the time before sighing loudly.
It was just after midnight, and she was exhausted, but despite being in bed for over three hours, she couldn’t fall asleep.
She scrolled aimlessly through Facebook, not actually staring at what was on the screen but thinking about the damn polar bear shifter sleeping just down the hall.
She hadn’t expected him to help with the dishes, hadn’t expected to be that close to him, and she’d spent the entire time both terrified that he would accidentally brush up against her and hoping against hope that he would.
If he touched her, it would make him want her as much as she wanted him.
He wouldn’t be able to resist touching her again, fucking her, and if she fucked him, not only would her magic be boosted, but she’d have the best orgasm of her life. She was sure of it.
Her pussy throbbed, and her nipples were tight buds against her pajamas. Her vibrator was still tucked away in the nightstand, and she considered grabbing it. It would relieve her aching need, warm her up, and help her sleep. What was the harm?
Plenty of harm when Briggs hears it. You want to be that desperate girl using her vibrator while he listens in the next goddamn room?
Her vibrator wasn’t that loud.
He’s a shifter. He probably has a crazy sense of hearing and smell. What if he smells your… excitement?
Oh God…that probably wasn’t a thing, but what if it was? She would die of shame. Nope, using the vibrator was not happening. Hell, masturbating with her hand was completely off the table. Not while Briggs was under the same roof.
You don’t need to masturbate. Just go to his room and ask him to fuck you. He will. You know he will. He couldn’t stop staring at your ass earlier.
She pinched her lips together as reality rocketed through her.
Why was she even thinking this way? Briggs only wanted her because of her magic, and it made her a real shit even to consider sleeping with him.
She needed to remember that Briggs wasn't actually attracted to her and stop mooning over him like a bookworm nerding out over the quarterback.
He was way out of her league and always would be.
That thought was depressing, but it did help cool her lust and keep her feet firmly in reality. She put her phone back on the nightstand and tried to ignore how cold she was, but it was impossible.
Her bedroom had officially reached ‘too cold to sleep’ levels. Cece slid out of bed, grateful for the thick socks she wore that protected her feet from the cold floor. She grabbed one of the extra blankets from the bed and headed for the hallway.
Christ, she thought she’d been cold lying in bed, but away from the nest of blankets on her bed and her own pitiful body heat, her body shook wildly, and her teeth chattered. She’d barely taken two steps toward the staircase when Briggs appeared in the open doorway of his bedroom.
Unlike Cece, who wore thick flannel pajamas, a hoodie, and her knitted hat, he wore a thin pair of sleep pants and a navy tank top that clung just as lovingly to his flat stomach as the white one had earlier.
His feet were bare, and his slow up and down perusal of Cece’s ridiculous outfit made her flush.
“How are you not freezing?” she asked.
“Why are you leaving your bedroom?” He joined her at the top of the stairs, and she could feel the heat radiating from his massive body.
She ignored her immediate urge to flatten herself against his body in an attempt to leech some of that enviable heat.
Touching Briggs was a bad idea on so many levels.
“It’s too cold in my room,” she said. “I’m going to sleep downstairs in front of the fireplace.”
“No,” Briggs said.
She blinked at him. “What do you mean, no?”
“You’re not sleeping downstairs,” he said.
“It’s my house, and I’ll sleep wherever I want to sleep,” she said.
“It’s too dangerous,” Briggs said. “The window isn’t secure in the living room, and you’re too far away from me if there’s trouble.”
“The window has locks,” Cece said.
“I already told you they were useless.”
“Fine. You can stay in the living room with me,” Cece said. “I have an air mattress I put in front of the fireplace, and you can take the couch.”
He shook his head. “Until we install better locks on the windows, neither of us is sleeping downstairs.”
“It’s too cold in my room,” she said.
“Put extra blankets on the bed,” he said.
“I have every extra blanket in the house on my bed,” she snapped. “Look, I’m not trying to be difficult, but I can’t sleep when I’m this cold, and I need my sleep. I’m not someone who can go without sleep and function on adrenaline or caffeine, or whatever. I need sleep.”
“Fine. You can sleep with me,” Briggs said.
Her mouth dropped open. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You can sleep in my bed. I throw off a lot of heat, and it’ll keep you warm.”
“Are you insane?” she asked. “We can’t touch. If we do, my magic will… we can’t share a bed.”
“Break the spell you cast on me, and we can,” Briggs said.
“I didn’t cast a spell,” she said.
“Bullshit you didn’t,” Briggs said.
“I didn’t,” she insisted. “You’re my conduit.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
Wishing she had just stayed in bed and risked freezing to death, Cece said, “Conduits are humans or paranormals who increase a witch’s magic.
They’re incredibly rare and only happen to blood witches.
When the witch touches their conduit, it boosts their magic, and the conduit gets a taste of the witch’s magic.
Not enough to cast spells or anything, but apparently it’s a very, um, addictive rush for them. ”
“I am not your conduit,” Briggs said.
“You are. Conduits are rare, but what happened between us that night at the hospital indicates that you’re mine. My magic went haywire, and we were… uh, immediately attracted to each other.”
Do you want to be fucked, little witch?
She pushed the errant memory away, but even just remembering Briggs’s deep voice, his kisses, his hand cupping her pussy, brought a rush of heat to her body that stopped her shivering.
“So, how do I stop being your conduit?” Briggs asked.
“You can’t,” she said. “It’s not something either of us can make disappear.”
“There has to be some sort of spell or potion that will work,” Briggs said.
“There isn’t,” she said. “The most we can do is avoid each other and definitely not touch one another. If we touch, we’ll have sex. We won’t be able to help it.”
Briggs gave her a look. “You think I’m that weak?”
“It has nothing to do with how strong you are,” she said in exasperation. “It’s magic and magic doesn’t care if you can chop up an entire tree in half an hour or that you’re nine feet tall with a body like Thor’s.”
“I’m seven feet tall,” Briggs said.
She waved him off. “Whatever. The point is, if you touch me, you’ll want to have sex with me.”
Briggs studied her for a few seconds before he said, “You’re pretty full of yourself, huh, little witch? I have more willpower than you think, and it’ll take more than fantastic tits and a pretty smile to keep my interest.”
“You’re such an asshole,” she snapped. “I just told you it has nothing to do with willpower or strength. It’s magic, and you can’t resist magic using willpower or your big, stupid muscles.”
He just shrugged. “Sleep in my bed, and I’ll show you how well I resist you and your magic.”
His gaze dropped to her breasts, and she hated the immediate thread of lust and trickle of magic that washed over her.
For one insanity filled moment, she was overcome with the urge to touch Briggs, to show him exactly how powerful her magic could be, and make him eat that smug little grin right off of his own face.
Instead, she glared at him and took a step back. “I’d rather freeze to death than sleep in the same bed as you.”
“Suit yourself, sweetheart,” he said.
Seething inside, her knuckles glowing a soft green as her magic responded to her emotions, she stomped back into her bedroom and slammed the door shut.
“Asshole!” she snapped to the room, clenching her hands into tight fists.
The vine plants hanging from the ceiling shivered delicately, and a few of the vines from the pots closest to her grew in length to gently wrap around her body, squeezing lightly as their ends brushed repeatedly over her cheeks.
Their gentle motion soothed her, and after a few minutes, she took a deep breath. “That’s better, thank you.”
The vines squeezed her once in reply before retreating.
Her magic faded, and Cece blinked rapidly before staring up at the plants.
Holy shit. That had never happened before.
She reached up and touched one of the lowest-hanging vines.
It didn’t grow or respond in any way, and feeling a little silly, Cece climbed under her nest of blankets and buried her face under them as well.
She was already starting to shake from the cold, but she hugged the blankets tighter to her body and closed her eyes. Screw Briggs and his arrogance. There had to be a way to sever their magical connection, and she’d search the ends of the goddamn earth to find it.