Read Spell Bound (Darkly Enchanted) Online

Authors: Stephanie Julian

Spell Bound (Darkly Enchanted) (41 page)

Shaking off that thought, she let Gabriel lead her into the forest. They walked, side by side, not talking, not touching.

His long muscular legs ate up the ground, though he shortened his pace so she could keep up without having to hurry. The tight black t-shirt he wore bared most of his bulging biceps and she wanted to feel the strength of them under hands. The t-shirt clung to his broad chest and tight abs and…

She wanted to pull him down to the ground and make him kiss her, let that amazing body cover hers and block out the world.

As he stripped her, the air would cool her overheated skin and the fading sunlight would eventually give way to an all-consuming darkness that would hide them from prying eyes.

Alone in the dark.

As they headed in the same general direction as Leo and Quinn, the sound of Leo’s laughter echoing through the trees brought a brief smile to her face.

Would there come a day when his laugh wouldn’t be so amazing? When it’d become an everyday occurrence?

Or would they always be on the run?

And would she be here to hear it?

“When did you find out what your mother was?”

The question had been rolling around in her brain for a while, something she hadn’t felt right asking. But out here, under the sky and surrounded by the encompassing forest, it seemed okay.

“I was eight.”

Not much older than Leo. He’d need to know, too. Someday. “How’d you handle it?”

His snort was amused. “Disbelief, shock, denial. But after a while, I figured it wasn’t all that strange, considering all the other shit I’d been dealing with since I was born.”

“Did you go to school?”

Now, he laughed outright and her thighs clenched. “Hell, no. I would have blasted the teachers into walls the first couple of years after I came into my full powers. I did get my diploma. I had a tutor for school subjects, took the GED when I was sixteen. I would have blown it off but my parents insisted. My dad trained me in everything else.”

Gabriel knew exactly what question Shea was going to ask next. He braced himself for it.

And, as fate would have it, they stepped into the clearing at that precise moment.

“What happened to him?”

Someone else might have tripped over the two small headstones before noticing them. Gabriel would be able to find them on a pitch-black night during a hurricane.

As always, the grass around them was neatly trimmed and the oaks Serena had planted the day of their burial more than a decade ago grew strong.

“Dario’s men killed him.” The familiar ache returned to his chest. “They’d come for my brother, Nino. They didn’t want me. I was too old. But I was strong enough that they knew I had to be out of the way. I was stupid. I let them down, and they died.”

Lowering himself onto the ground beneath his father’s oak, he leaned back against the trunk, watched her stand next to the graves.

“I don’t believe that.”

He snorted. “Quinn and I were out screwing around, blowing off steam. I’d had a bad feeling all day. I couldn’t explain it, but it was like…someone had my lungs in their hands and they were squeezing.” He rubbed at his chest, remembering that ache. “I should have stayed home that night. I should have known.”

She sat next to him on the ground, close enough to touch but not.

“How old were you?”

He shook his head. “Just shy of eighteen.” Old enough to know better. “Doesn’t matter how old I was. I wasn’t there when they needed me. That won’t happen again.”

He wouldn’t—couldn’t let that happen again. Couldn’t bear to think about another small headstone with Leo’s name on it. Or Shea’s. “Quinn was only fifteen. We killed our first men that day. And it was too late. By the time my dad knew what was happening, it was too late.”

He still remembered every second of the phone call from his dad.

“Get the hell out of here, Gabriel. You and Quinn, go somewhere, anywhere. Dario’s men are here and I don’t want you anywhere near them. I’ll call you when it’s safe.”

Gabriel had, of course, said fuck that. He and Quinn would be there. “Hold on. We’re coming.”

He’d believed his dad could hold them off. Davis Borelli was the best of the best. The strongest.

But the ten-minute drive from town had been excruciating.

And when they’d arrived, he’d seen Nino’s lifeless body cradled in his father’s arms as a dark-haired man pulled the trigger on the final shot through his dad’s temple.

What he couldn’t remember was exactly what happened after that. Quinn had filled in the gaps, but Gabriel only remembered bits and pieces. Blood, fists. The crunch of breaking bones. Quinn’s growls. And the screams of grown men.

Magic that had seared through his skin like the flame of a butane torch.

Fueled by rage and grief, he and Quinn had killed the last two men his dad hadn’t been able to. And when they were done, there hadn’t been enough left for two body bags for the four men.

He had no regrets. They’d deserved it.

“Gabriel. I’m so sorry.”

Shea’s quiet, sorrowful voice ripped him out of the past.

“It was a long time ago.” But he would never forget. Not one detail.

She shifted closer, close enough for him to feel her, smell her, but still not touching. “Your mom must have been devastated.”

“I think she wanted to die, too, but she had three other children. And Quinn.”

“Who she won’t allow close to her.”

He looked into her eyes. “I can see her point. It’s tough to love someone you’re going to lose.”

She nodded, her expression solemn. “But think of everything she’ll have missed by denying herself. What about you, Gabriel? What are you denying yourself?”

Too damn much.

He managed to keep the words from escaping, but she had to be able to see them on his face.

He wanted her. Ached for her in ways he’d never ached for anyone.

But if he let his emotions get involved, he might slip. Might miss something because he was so focused on her that he couldn’t see anything else.

He didn’t want her and Leo to pay for his fuck-up.

He opened his mouth to say just that but before the words formed, she straddled his lap and sealed her mouth to his. It was lunacy, but the minute her mouth touched his, everything else slipped away.

The woman he wanted more than he wanted to breathe had her arms locked around his shoulders and her tongue in his mouth. His body reacted with a powerful rush of adrenaline, making his cock hard and his brain explode with sensation.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he crushed her against him, smashing her breasts flat to his chest and bringing her crotch against the throbbing ridge in his jeans. He breathed in through his nose, her sweet, subtle scent screwing with his head while his hands flattened on her back and drew her even closer.

She moaned into his mouth, let her fingers slide into his hair and catch. Lust warred with reason, and, for the first time, lust won.

He kissed her, hard, slid his tongue into her mouth to tangle with hers. He kneaded her back like a cat then slid down to cup her ass, pushing her hips into him and rubbing her mound against his cock until he was primed to explode.

Hell, he wanted to, but he wanted to do it inside her.

Untangling her hands from his hair, she moved them to his shoulders in a light caress then stroked down his biceps and slid around his back. Her fingers dug in until she had his t-shirt bunched in her hands. He leaned forward so she could pull it over his head, releasing her mouth only long enough for her to do it.

He reclaimed her lips with a desperation that should have worried him. They were on borrowed time, and he didn’t want to waste any. Leo was out there, running with Quinn, who he trusted to keep the kid safe and occupied for these few stolen moments.

Rolling her under him, soft grass at her back, he grabbed both of her wrists in one hand, drawing them above her head. She arched into him, breasts pressing against his chest, belly to belly, and he let his mouth trace down her neck to her collar bone. He licked the delicate bones there as he heard her breathing shallow out. Slipping his free hand under her t-shirt, already riding above her belly button, he splayed his fingers across her stomach then dragged them up to caress her bare breasts beneath her shirt.

Her nipples pebbled and his hand trembled as he pulled her shirt up and bent his head to suck on her, the salty taste of her soft skin messing with his head, making him drunk. She arched even further, tugging her hands out of his grip to thread her fingers through his hair again and hold him to her.

As he suckled, his free hand moved to the waistband of her jeans. The smooth skin of her stomach quivered and he stopped. Until she lifted her hips, encouraging him to continue. She wasn’t wearing underwear. Hell, maybe she didn’t own any. Then his hand slid into her short, silky curls and he hoped she never did. He wanted unrestricted access to her at all times.

She froze, waiting, and he let his fingers rest there, soaking in her heat. He wanted to slide his fingers into her, feel how wet she was, feel her sex close around him. Wanted more than anything to rip away their clothes and take her, but they couldn’t. There wasn’t enough time or privacy.

Still, he couldn’t leave her until the primal part of him that wanted satisfaction heard her cry out his name. He wanted that. Needed it because they could have nothing else right now.

Sliding his fingers further, he brushed against her clit. Slow and light, he played with her, taunted her, until he felt her body arched into his, her fingers biting into his biceps as she sought a harder touch.

He gave it to her, stroking that little nub of flesh with more pressure until she began to writhe beneath him. His mouth still locked on hers, he stabbed his tongue into her mouth in time with his strokes and ignored the punishing ache in his body as his fingers played over her silky flesh.

Goddess, she was hot and wet and so fucking responsive, his cock strained against his zipper, seeking home.

With a gasp, she broke their kiss, drawing in air as if she were drowning, and he shifted his mouth to her neck, opening on the skin below her ear and reveling in the taste of her.

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