Chapter 23 - Above Cursed Winds

Magic , Zia thought. Jeremiah’s fingers were magic.

Eyes closed as she enjoyed the sensual massage against her scalp, she relaxed backward into his chest. After arriving home, he’d whisked her up the bathroom to wash her hair and rinse the silver from her skin—after she’d changed into a silk bathrobe.

She sat, nearly asleep, as those magic fingers worked her hair into a lather, and he gently massaged her roots. Calling him a miracle worker would’ve been nothing short of the truth; Zia had never experienced anything quite so wondrous. The Elemental’s quiet ministrations were akin to a lullaby.

At some point, she must have nodded off, because she woke up snuggled against his chest. Silver poisoning had exhausted her, and even though he’d managed to withdraw a large portion from her lungs, some had still made it into her bloodstream. It’d struck her down.

When he reverently placed her atop the bed, her breath caught in her throat.

Zia didn’t want him to leave; she realized it with crystalline clarity. Every cell of her body yearned for his closeness. If she’d been thinking clearly, perhaps the thought would’ve scared her.

Fortunately, he didn’t immediately move away. Gingerly, as though he thought she’d attack him, he crouched down next to the bed. A look of hesitation crossed his features.

“If you sleep with wet hair, it’ll be crazy in the morning. Shall I braid it for you?”

Zia’s lips twisted in a disbelieving grin.

His chest puffed up, his eyes dancing. “You doubt my skill? Before—well, before all of this, I used to braid my own hair nearly every day.” He chuckled. “Plus, I had four older sisters and two younger ones. All platinum blonde except the one closest to me in age. Ginger babies, the two of us.” His expression softened. “I had to know how to braid to survive, Z. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d very much like to put those vital skills to use.”

Zia twisted around, gathering her hair behind her head, and he went to work.

It was intimate. No doubt about it.

Here he was, in her room, sitting behind her on the bed. His hands were twisting, caressing, touching, and everything in her wanted more. She wanted more of his hands on her skin, more of his mouth on her lips.

More of him.

By the time he’d worked his way down her back, she could barely contain herself. She handed him a hair tie, but was surprised to see one already on his wrist.

Her hair tie, one from another day. The Elemental was a thief, and she was smiling about it. As soon as he had her braid secured, he shifted to stand.

Zia didn’t let him.

When she caught his hand, Jeremiah hesitated. His pulse raced beneath his skin, a staccato song against her thumb. Slowly, he glanced down at her, his summer-blue eyes blinking with uncertainty.

“Don’t go.”

Shock twisted his expression. “I thought you didn’t want a hook up, Z?”

“That isn’t what this is, Jeremiah.” But they couldn’t admit to it as something deeper. Not yet. Being this vulnerable had already cost her so much. “Don’t go sleep on that couch. I could use the closeness tonight. I … I enjoy your company, and I want you here tonight.”

Her attention dipped to where her fingers fiddled with the comforter. Then, finding her courage, she met his gaze.

“Say you’ll stay?”

Slowly, he nodded his head. “I’ll stay, Z, but only on one condition.”

Her eyes implored him, asking, “What?”

“That I can kiss you again.”

Zia would never refuse him. Rising to her knees, she fisted a hand in his collar, yanking him down to claim his mouth without any hint of softness. Everything demanded she take him as hers.

The Elemental responded readily, bending forward to meet her, kiss for kiss, as her mouth moved against his. Desperate for him, she took hold of the other side of his collar, ruthlessly yanking him off balance so that he precariously balanced against the side of the bed, just one tug away from sprawling before her.

One more yank and he tumbled onto the mattress. Success.

Straddling him, her fingers tangled into his silken hair, jerking his head to the side to give her access to his throat. She nipped at the sensitive flesh, earning a shudder from her redhead.

“So responsive,” she whispered against his neck, smugly satisfied at the man below her.

A growl was the only warning she had before he’d expertly flipped her onto her back. Chagrined, she let out a groaning mewl that was a mix between the need for vengeance at her now submissive position and a moan that demanded more.

Jeremiah’s lips were on hers again, making Zia forget any protest. The flame that’d sparked before reignited in a blaze of need, the predator beneath her skin urging her to mark territory. Responding to the primal urge, Zia deepened their kiss, shivering as his gift softly caressed her skin in a whisper of sensation, as his lips worshipped hers.

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she urged him lower, breath stalling in her throat as he gently nudged the bathrobe away to reveal her collarbone.

“And what is this, Z?”

“Ink, Jeremiah.” She laughed at the playful amusement in his eyes. “I have wings. It only makes sense that birds fly their way across my skin, too.”

“Bad girl at heart. Shoulda known.”

“Bad girl, huh?”

“It’s always the ones that look innocent.” He got up on one elbow to gaze contentedly down at her. “So, my rugged good looks and witty charm have succeeded in winning you over? You’re now fully embracing that you’re destined to be mine?”

Choking, Zia could only blink at him.

His contented smile turned melancholic. “Break my heart tomorrow, Z.”

Planting a delicate kiss on her nose, he maneuvered her until she was lying next to him, their heads on two of her many pillows.

Then, with no warning, the man unashamedly claimed her as his own personal cuddle-bunny. His arm tucked in around her waist, and with a single tug, she slid backwards until she was flush against the heat of his skin. Zia said nothing as he nestled in behind her, his lips pressing a kiss to the column of her neck.

“Night, boss.”

The whispered words soothed her spirit, dissipating the tension that’d built up behind his actions. Jeremiah was breaking down every wall she’d erected around her heart, shattering years’ worth of work to keep everyone else out.

For good reason.

Tomorrow, she’d speak with Key. She’d confirm that Jeremiah wasn’t fated to her and that she could move forward with whatever it was they were doing here. Because if there was even a possibility he could be her mate, all bets would be off. She wouldn’t sign his death warrant.