Chapter Twenty
The downside to amazing, blow-your-freakin’-mind sex was the inevitable morning-after regrets. And oh boy, did she have them in truckloads.
Moving with exaggerated caution, she lifted onto her elbows and inspected the whiskered jaw nuzzled against her arm. She stared at Aiden’s sleep-relaxed features. Longing, sharp and intense, erupted inside her. Every inch of her body tingled with the desire to touch him. Swallowing hard, she forced her attention to the provider of the toasty warmth blanketing her right side. Jace lay sprawled on his stomach, one leg flung over hers and the other one half falling off the air mattress. The riotous sensations playing havoc with her body still made their presence known while she eyed him, but they’d mellowed significantly. Testing her body’s reaction, she returned her focus to Aiden. The craving renewed itself in an overwhelming surge.
What the hell was going on?
Her caution taking a permanent hike, she scrambled out from between the sleeping brothers. Aiden roused with a raspy grunt. He blinked at her blearily before letting his smoky gaze travel over her in a thorough sweep. “G’ morning.”
Just the sound of his husky voice stoked the embers of her lust into a raging inferno. Embarrassed and edgy, she reached for her discarded underwear. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Levering onto one elbow, he cracked a wide yawn. His hand came up to scratch absently along his sternum. “Any idea what time it is?”
Gulping, she tore her scrutiny from the lazy motion of his fingers. Yeah, time to get the hell out of here. “My guess—not yet six. It’s still fairly dark out.”
“Hmm, then why don’t you come back to bed?” He patted the spot next to him invitingly.
“I…uh…need to shower and get dressed. I have to be at the festival fairgrounds early today for set up.”
Aiden thudded backwards onto the mattress with a groan. “I forgot you’re working the festival this weekend.”
She wiggled into her panties and he stacked his arms behind his head, making no pretense about ogling the show. His cock stirred beneath the cover of the blanket. “I suppose it’s not necessarily a bad thing. If Morgan shows up, we’ll be able to nab him pretty easy in your booth.”
“Yeah, that would certainly make things simpler.” Twisting into her bra, she bundled her remaining clothes together and streaked from the tent. By the time she reached the bathroom, the strange sensations overtaking her body had subsided. Pushing aside the towel hanging on the back of the door, she checked herself in the full-length mirror, half convinced she’d find her body glowing like a nuclear reactor. Whatever the claim mark had done to her, it didn’t appear to have left any visible evidence on her exterior.
Grateful for that welcome news, she jumped into the shower and endured the icy spray until her teeth began to chatter and various body parts went numb. Hopefully that’d put a damper on things for a while.
Her brilliant plan stayed in effect through five cups of coffee and an excruciating car ride. The aggravating sensations returned around the same time her bladder started bitching about the five cups of coffee. Not exactly convenient, considering it forced her to use the port-a-johns. Try squatting without touching any surfaces while wearing a bulky skirt and petticoat. Fun times.
After wrestling her way from the cramped john, she slathered on the disinfectant provided at the wash station. Aiden escorted her toward her booth. During the walk, she stared at the tips of her kidskin boots, trying to get her mind off the lustful urges crawling beneath her skin. It didn’t work. Nothing did. “What the hell did that claim mark do to me?”
She didn’t realize she’d spoken the question aloud until Aiden jerked to a halt. The tree canopy diffused most of the early morning sun, throwing his face in shadow. Still, she could detect the concern lurking in his eyes.
“What do you mean? Are you having a bad reaction?”
A humorless laugh escaped her. “Yeah, you could definitely say that.” She crossed her arms to hide the stiffening of her nipples. “I’m turned on. Constantly.”
His gaze automatically drifted to her chest, making her glad she’d opted to conceal her arousal. He massaged the back of his neck. “The claim mark often has an aphrodisiac effect. That’s why it’s used prior to the binding ritual. It’s a guaranteed way to earn the sacrifice’s cooperation.”
She glared at him. “Thanks for mentioning this sooner.”
“It honestly didn’t occur to me. Some people experience no side effects at all. Or so I’ve been told.”
Gnashing her teeth, she swooped up the hem of her skirt and marched to her booth. Haddie met her outside the entrance with the deck of tarot cards clutched in her wrinkled hands. Just what she didn’t need. More advice from the oracle regarding her disastrous life.
“Haddie, could we do the reading another time? I really need to get set up.”
“Oh pooh. That’s what your strapping young lads are for.” Snatching Dana’s arm, Haddie dragged her toward the tarot booth. She was surprisingly strong for a seventy-plus-year-old woman.
Heaving a sigh, Dana dropped into the provided chair and went through the required rigmarole. Haddie flipped over the first card. The Lovers. Dana made a grumping noise beneath her breath. “I already got that card.”
Haddie gave her a peevish look. “Obviously the oracle feels the need to hammer the truth into your stubborn head.”
“What truth? That I’m destined for a dead-end relationship with a pair of dragons?”
“Dearie—”
“Let’s just move on to the next card.”
Wearing an expression like she’d rather argue, Haddie turned the middle card. Dana took one glance at the grim-reaper-looking dude on the front and gave a triumphant snort. “What did I tell ya? Dead end.”
Haddie clucked her tongue in exasperation. “You know, most folks don’t act all excited when they draw the death card.”
“Death shmeth. With everything going on right now, a visit from ole skeletor is the least of my problems. Speaking of which, could we speed things up before the sickle wielder comes to cart me off?” She drummed her nails impatiently on the velvet-draped table, drawing a weary exhale from Haddie.
With a suitably dramatic flourish, Haddie revealed the final card. A knight on horseback, carrying a sword. From what Dana could see, there wasn’t anything the least bit scary about the card. So why did Haddie jerk away from it like it’d zapped her?
“This isn’t good.”
“What, the card?” Dana frowned. “How bad can it be? I already drew freakin’ death, for Pete’s sake.”
“A nasty enemy has been hiding in the shadows. He isn’t to be trusted.”
The pronouncement brought on a creepy sense of awareness. Was Haddie talking about Morgan? Had she somehow seen him in the card? A part of Dana wanted to scoff at the notion, but she’d witnessed too many weird things lately to doubt anything at this point. She reached out and patted Haddie’s trembling hand. “It’s okay. Aiden and Jace are well aware of the danger. They’re doing everything they can to protect me.” Including shooting me up with their liquid Spanish fly juice and turning me into a horny slut.
Pasting on an overly perky smile, she excused herself and went to check on Aiden and Jace’s progress in her booth. She had to admit they were doing a great job shelving everything. Still, to keep things in perspective and enact a wee bit of revenge for them turning her into a raving nympho, she made them change the rear display three times. Yes, it was devious. But highly satisfying.