against the counter and tried to will my raging hard-on to go down. Fucking hell. The only thing that kept me from slamming my head into the nearest wall was the distinct possibility that I might’ve already been suffering from a serious head injury from the lamp I threw at myself.
There was no doubt in my mind that I was an idiot for kissing her last night.
So what was I now that I’d had my mouth on her pussy?
I licked my lips, unable to stop myself. The taste of her was too sweet for words. Like it was my fucking job to lap her up until she couldn’t remember anything other than my name. Fucking fuck. It had been so goddamn good I almost came in my pants from the taste of her.
She was Kyle’s ex-fiancée. The reason why he was dead. And all I could think about was having another taste. Even now, without my magic calling the shots, the things I’d be willing to do to get my mouth on Jocelyn’s gorgeous pussy again were unspeakable.
I was a fucking asshole.
Running my hands through my hair, I gripped the back of my neck and stared hard at my reflection in the mirror. I looked like a fucking animal. My black hair stood up in a million different directions, my eyes were wild and unfocused and so goddamn hungry I looked about two seconds away from falling to my knees.
This needed to end. Now.
Turning on the faucet, I tried to get rid of the scent of her with a lemon drop soap that didn’t do a damn thing to wash her away. If anything, she burrowed further into my skin. Like a tick. But it hadn’t always been that way. Once upon a time, she’d been my salvation.
I first came to town at thirteen, broken almost beyond repair. The Wilders had pulled me out of the gutters of Boston and given me a home and a name, one of my choosing. I picked Rafe. All because I’d found a book in one of my foster homes with a half-naked woman on the cover getting ravished by a man with dark, windswept hair, so I started reading it. Mostly because I was a prepubescent boy and I wanted to see the word “boob” in print.
But the story ended up sweeping me away. Suddenly, I wasn’t a strange kid with delayed development who no one liked. I didn’t hover in cold and dark corners, fighting for my next meal. I could pick up a book and be a pirate named Rafe. The hero of that particular story was dastardly. He raided ships and made his living stealing from others on the high seas, but he was also loyal and respected and knew how to treat his woman.
He was the kind of man I wanted to be.
The adults in the foster homes I’d been living in had called me John, but that wasn’t the name I’d been given at birth. I didn’t know what name existed on my birth certificate. I’d been found on the side of the road at four, dumped off like a wet sack of free kittens, too old and too troubled for anyone to want to adopt. I couldn’t speak more than three words and I still wore diapers. I didn’t have any memories of my life before I’d been found.
Adoption wasn’t in the cards for me. There wasn’t much I offered a family. I was quiet, mistrustful, and made people around me uneasy with my cold eyes that often stared into nothingness. My difficulty with speech and potty training made me a bother in places that were already overflowing with kids who’d come from bad situations.
Sometimes, I’d still wake up at night burning with the humiliation of pissing myself in front of kids who were older and meaner than me. The memories of those days were grainy and faded, but they were some of my first, so they stuck with me. No matter how much I tried to shut them out. Yet, those times were downright cozy compared to what happened after I’d fallen through the cracks of the system and ended up on the street.
I had no skills and had dropped out of school at far too young an age. But I had a nice face. It was a little thin and a little sharp around the edges, but plenty of adults who had come in and out of my short life had told me I’d be a heartbreaker when I got older. And the city of Boston had a lot of grimy old men with gold rings and fat wads of cash who were willing to pay large sums of money to do ugly things to pretty boys.
Fortunately, none of them had touched me. But more than a few of them had tried. The feel of those sweaty hands on the back of my neck, the yellow teeth and sickly smiles, still haunted me. Sometimes I’d get my hands on their wallets, and I was quick. I knew the streets well. I’d been lucky enough to get away. There were many who didn’t.
Only three months into a life of stealing to eat, Hank and Darla found me and brought me to Zodiac Cove. I shuddered to think what would’ve happened to me if I’d been out there for much longer. There was only so much running a kid could do.
At first, I thought they were a couple of sickos who wanted to keep a stable of young boys on hand. Because that was the world I’d come from, and I didn’t know anything different. It took me time to accept that no one was going to try to touch me here without my permission.
And after Finn, Galen, and I spent a few good months beating our demons out of each other, we learned how to be brothers. With Darla and Hank, we learned what it was like to have good, solid parents. And the island that gave us a home taught us how to be the men we’d become. Mere shadows of the lost boys who had been granted a fate larger than they ever felt they deserved.
Kyle and Jocelyn had been my first friends. The first people who had accepted me, not as family, but as people who chose to be around me.
I was thirteen, alone in the woods because I’d gotten good at relying on myself for company. Kyle rode up on the trail with Jocelyn on his handlebars. It was still early spring, not quite tourist season, and the forest floor was the dry and barren color of harvested wheat.
First, she interested me. She was like a light in the dark. Her strawberry blonde hair whipped around her face, and those golden-green hazel eyes were still too large for her narrow, childlike face. And when she smiled… holy fuck. Her smile was bright and bold and the most stunning thing I’d ever seen up close.
No one had ever looked at me like that before. Like I deserved the name I’d picked for myself. Like I was the sun, moon, and stars all rolled into one.
I fell in love with her right then and there.
But she was too beautiful, too fragile, too protected from the kind of filth I’d bring into her life. So I kept my distance and made friends with the boy who had already set his sights on her, even at thirteen. And I knew that she was never meant for me.
I finished washing up and dried my face with a towel. Time to tuck away those old memories and get on with the now. I wasn’t a thirteen-year-old boy anymore, endlessly fascinated with the gorgeous girl who seemed too ethereal to be real. The girl I’d kept at a distance, preferring the illusion of her I’d created, and never letting myself get too close until she and Kyle became an official couple and it finally felt safe to let her in.
I should’ve kept my distance. Like a fool, I went and fell harder for the real Jocelyn, who felt more like my other half than any illusion of her I’d been able to create in my mind. And here I was, all these years later, still not learning a damned thing from my childhood follies.
As I exited the bathroom, I stopped short at the sight of her curled up on the couch, fully dressed again, with a pillow tucked under her chin. She looked so sad and lost and all I wanted to do was smooth away that worry line between her brows. I wanted to kiss her soft and gentle like she deserved and tell her all the things I’d kept locked up for so long.
Our magic was like a key, twisting and turning inside me, demanding that I unlock the dam and let it all pour out. But I couldn’t do that. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. The only way forward was to form a tentative truce as partners and nothing more.
Which meant I definitely couldn’t put my tongue on her pussy again. No matter how badly I wanted to.
“I see you’ve pulled yourself together. That’s good.” The curt tone of my voice didn’t match the embarrassing whirlpool of gut-wrenching emotions currently pummeling my insides, but I’d always been good at hiding myself.
She turned her head slowly in my direction, her face a perfect mask of cool disinterest. She gave nothing away. It seemed she’d learned a few tricks from me during that brief period when she’d been my closest friend. “As I recall, you’re the one who lost your mind from getting just one look at me. Do you have yourself pulled together?”
No. Not by a fucking long shot. And damn her for calling me on it. I swiped the back of my hand across my lip, swollen and stinging from where she bit me. The sweetest pain I’d ever felt in my life. “I’m fine. It was a slip-up. It won’t happen again.”
The corner of her lip curved, just one side, like she was mocking me. Which only pissed me off even more. Though I didn’t know who I was madder at, her or myself. “Glad to hear it. Now that we’ve got that unfortunate business out of the way, let’s get back to talking about how we’re going to work through this partnership, because clearly, we have trust issues.”
“We’ll just have to get used to each other is all.” If she thought we were going to work through our past, she needed to get over that notion, real fucking quick. I had no intention of digging up the ghosts that were dead and buried.
She threw the pillow at me, which I flicked away with my arm. “We can’t just get used to each other. Don’t you get it? Don’t you have any idea how this magic works?”
Oh, I understood how the magic worked all right. Not only had Finn and Galen been hammering the details down my throat for months, but I’d felt firsthand what it had done to my libido. But I was also certain that we were adults who could control ourselves if we gave it half a try. I wasn’t a teenager anymore. I had some self-control.
I gave her a nasty smirk. “I can keep my hands to myself if you can, buttercup.”
“Don’t call me that.” She stood with her slim back straight and a haughty tilt to her chin. That was one of the things I’d admired most about her, even when I wanted to wring her neck. That stubborn-ass pride that wouldn’t allow anyone to take a bite out of her. Even when I’d tried to have her fired so she’d have no choice but to leave the island, she dug in her heels, refusing to go anywhere. “Let’s go ahead and practice and see how well you do.”
She held her hand out, only the slightest tremor at the tips of her fingers giving away her fear. My gaze zeroed in on those slender fingers that would feel so good wrapped around my cock. Heat bloomed on her cheeks, turning them a lush shade of pink.
I couldn’t keep thinking things like that if I was going to touch her. She’d feel it through my magic and I’d never fucking hear the end of it.
Without a second thought, I took her hand and brushed my thumb ever so slightly against her knuckles because I was a bastard who liked the way she shivered. That white-hot blinding light once again flared from my palm. My magic attacked hers, jumped on top of it and rolled in the dirt with it like a newborn puppy who hadn’t been housebroken yet. Pathetic.
Not even my magic could resist her. Whose side was it on anyway?
I glanced at the broken shards of the two lamps scattered across the floor, answering my own question. Still, my magic worked with me in some capacity, I just had to learn how to control it. The urge to lift something with my mind, to bend it to my will, rose within me.
This was what I’d been born to do. I wasn’t a grubby street kid who pissed his pants until he was five and robbed perverts who tried to kidnap me. I’d made myself more than that. Clawed my way out of the hell of my own mind to become a respected member of a rich tourist island community. I had a good job, a family who’d lay down their lives for me, and magic at my fingertips I’d damn well control on sheer will alone if need be.
My gaze slipped to Jocelyn, fighting her own internal battle. A series of bubbles danced around the room, popping and leaving only the crisp lemon scent of Jocelyn’s apartment in their wake. It might’ve been charming if she hadn’t looked so pissed about what she’d conjured.
As a test, I focused on a book tucked into the cubby of one of her end tables. It was thick and hardbacked. The Complete History of the Legends and Lore of Zodiac Cove. I remembered that book from school. It was a bitch to haul around in my backpack.
“Doing some light reading with your days off?” I taunted her as the heavy book wobbled in the air under my clumsy ministrations.
“I was looking for something that might’ve been missed.” She blew a wisp of golden strawberry hair out of her face. “Unlike some people who weren’t born here, the island means a lot to me, and I actually give a shit about keeping it above water.”
I dropped her hand and the book hit the ground with a heavy thunk. The bubbles vanished without popping and the light from our palms immediately extinguished as my insides turned cold. “That was low, buttercup. Even for you.”
Regret filled those big hazel eyes and she opened her mouth, but I held up a hand to silence her. My cock was rock hard again and she’d landed a blow that never would’ve touched my soft underbelly if I’d had my walls up and my wits about me. It was too fucking much. All of this shit was too much.
I stalked away from her and pounded on the door. “I swear to God, Donovan, if you don’t open this door right fucking now—”
“We can’t open the door. Wes froze it.” Violet’s sweet voice filtered through the thick wood. “I’m really sorry, Rafe, but it’s for your own good.”
I’d always had a soft spot for Violet. She’d been terribly bullied in high school and I understood what that felt like. The kinds of scars it could leave. I’d always gone out of my way to give her a hand when I could, but this was too far. “If you don’t get Wes right now, I’ll evict you from your apartment.”
I was being a childish asshole, but the walls were pressing in on me and the past was breathing down my neck. I had to get away from it all.
Much to my surprise, sweet little Violet let out a harsh laugh. “Sorry, buddy, but that threat holds no weight. The last earthquake took out the credit union and my apartment with it.”
Shit. That was something I would’ve known if Cole hadn’t accosted me and dragged me into this room. I should’ve been able to get away from him, but I’d been standing around with my thumb up my ass, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jocelyn in the crowd. Just one more way I’d gotten screwed by the woman who occupied far too much space in my mind. If I hadn’t been distracted, Cole never would’ve gotten the better of me.
Because unlike the Lathams, I’d been born and bred to know all my escape routes.
“Get Kenna up here.” As much as I hated the idea of talking to the fiery redhead who’d captured my brother’s attention like nothing and no one had ever been able to do, she wouldn’t approve of this arrangement any more than I did.
“Kenna knows,” Violet said. “She said to tell Jocelyn sorry.”
“Tell her she’s not forgiven,” Jocelyn called from behind me.
“The only way the two of you are getting out of there is if you don’t want to, so you might as well get used to each other,” Violet said. “The sooner the better though, because in case you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of on a time crunch here.”
“I knew you couldn’t hack it,” Jocelyn said from behind me, her voice small.
I whirled around on her. “Not one more word from you. You’ve said enough.”
Kicking the frozen-solid door, I moved toward the only other means of escape that I had. The patio. I brushed past Jocelyn, her sweet lemon scent trailing me as I hit the open landing and tilted my head toward the stars.
What the hell had fate been thinking? I could’ve worked with anyone else on the island. Any other Sagittarius, any other Everett—minus Kenna—but the stars aligned with Jocelyn. The only person who made me question myself anymore.
I knew she hadn’t meant it when she implied that I didn’t care about the island. Not only had I felt her remorse filtered through magic, but I’d seen it in those eyes that couldn’t hide a damned thing from me. She was lashing out because I’d hurt and embarrassed her.
Replaying those moments after Donovan stopped us from going too far was like dunking my head into a vat of ice water. I’d been way out of line. That wasn’t how I’d been raised to treat women. My mom would smack the shit out of me if she’d seen that level of disrespect, and she was far from Jocelyn’s biggest fan. She’d loved Kyle too.
But I’d spent so long casting Jocelyn as the villain in my fucked-up story that I never once stopped to consider that maybe I was becoming the villain in hers. Awesome. Now I could add “selfish prick” to my list of gleaming attributes.
No wonder I didn’t have much of a social life.
Lost in my own twisted thoughts of self-loathing and self-pity, I didn’t notice the smoke until it curled over the edges of the balcony and poured over my feet. It formed a funnel that ate up the night, filling the small outdoor space until I couldn’t see my own hand in front of me. Voices hissed and whispered at me in the dark.
“You’re betraying your brother. What will his sisters think? His mother?”
A cold fear settled deep in my bones. Kyle’s home had been a second home to me growing up. Even if it had been invaded all too often by a strawberry-blonde beauty with big eyes and legs that were way too long for her own good.
His mother and sisters had been my other family. I ate Thanksgiving at their house. I paid their mortgage when things got tough in the winter. I went with them to Kyle’s grave every year and mourned with them as if I was one of them.
“They’ll never forgive you. They already lost a son and a brother. You want to take yourself from them too? Over the woman who’s already cost them so much?”
It was bullshit. I knew it was bullshit. This was what the curse did. It seeped into people’s minds and messed with their thoughts and preyed on their weaknesses. It wanted me to stay away from Jocelyn. And by standing out here like a coward, I was playing right into its hands.
“Rafe, where are you?” The tremor of fear in Jocelyn’s voice raised all my animalistic, protective instincts. The curse’s sharp whispers in my ear couldn’t compete when she needed me.
“I’m right here. Stretch out your hand to touch mine.” I reached toward the direction of her voice. “Our light will beat back its dark.”
The very tips of her fingers brushed mine, but that was all we needed. A brilliant blue light shot out of her palms. A figure that moved so fast I didn’t get a good look at it burst from the blue flames of Jocelyn’s powerful light.
The curse scattered, leaving nothing but the copper tang of its fear lingering in the air, and a haunting melody that drifted away on the cool ocean breeze. Whatever Jocelyn unleashed had scared the shit out of the curse, but it disappeared before I could get a good look at it. With the smoke gone, all we were left with was the shimmering moonlight and the gentle lapping of the waves far below our feet.
