Page 33 of Resurrecting the Witch
“Nope, you’re coming with us, Tonya.” Drew threw his arm out around her shoulders to lead her out of the room. Drew had always been the best wingman when we went to Seattle for a night out before everything went to shit.
I tuned out the rest as the Hemlocks and the council all filed out of the courtyard.
“You really don’t have to walk me to the shoppe, Patrick. I can meet you there with the others if you—”
Patrick’s lips slammed against mine before I could finish. He was aggressive yet gentle as he moaned at the contact. His tongue wasted no time swiping at the opening of my mouth. I may have been caught off guard, but I let him in quickly and moaned at the unexpected turn of events. His tongue slid into my mouth and caressed mine, playing with my piercing in a way that showed how much he hungered for me the past six days without me.
He was needy as he desperately invaded my mouth. One hand gripped the nape of my neck while the other slid down my lower back, slowly inching toward my ass.
I had read so many romance books where the male characters growled. I never understood what a growl would sound like until I heard Patrick release one when I tried to push him away for air.
He released his lips from mine, and I was panting. “What was that for?”
“I’ll never be goin’ six feckin’ days without yer mouth on mine again, female. I won’t be a distraction, but I swear I’ll make me self a part of yer day, no matter if it’s just bringing you coffee or walking you to and from work. I was tryin’ not to be overbearing, but I am done with that. I amdesperate. I amfamished. I need you.”
I gulped at how Patrick’s thick Irish accent became more pronounced when he was in the thick of emotions. He pressed his lips to my forehead and then took my hand, placing it on the front of his jeans.
He was hard, his need evident. I gulped at the length I felt.
Well, fuck.
I grabbed his hand and led him out of the courtyard. We walked at a faster pace than usual to my shoppe which was across the street and only a few doors down from The Witch’s Brew.
“Surprised to see you here, High Priestess,” a familiar and welcomed voice called as we approached the door.
“You know I’d always make time to say hi to you, Bert.” I leaned over and gave him a hug. We had been neighbors since I opened my shoppe. I had a feeling he thought of me like a daughter since he had no family here in Haven Pass.
“You better.” Bert was locking up his barber shop as we approached. “I take it you’ll be at the open mic night?”
“Of course, just need to check on some of my seedlings and get the night watering done.” Technically I had systems in place to care for my plants, but I wanted some alone time with Patrick before we got to the others. I hadn’t made time for him all week. Part of that was intentional because I had a tiny bit of fear about what our quick relationship would amount to, the man had called me his freaking mate the last time I saw him, but I also had been busy beyond reason.
“How ya doing there, son?” Bert greeted Patrick, and I raised my brows.
“Hey, Bert.” Patrick walked forward with his hand outstretched toward my neighbor. “I’ll make sure Cliona gets to The Brew safe in a little bit.”
Bert nodded at him and then walked toward The Witch’s Brew.
I used the skeleton key to open the front door and took a deep breath in of one of my favorite places. My herbs smelled so fucking good. The soft lighting I had installed illuminated the small space as I invited Patrick in.
“How do you know Bert?” I asked.
“He was one of the first friends I made when I moved here.”
“Oh?” I knew Bert often volunteered in Orientation since he was extremely personable, but I hadn’t realized he’d helped Patrick.
I walked behind the counter and took out the seedling trays under the heat lamps to check on them. I used my magick for a lot of the maintenance, but I found my magick was best to coax the earth and not completely overwrite the process. It also helped to siphon some off into the soil. Patrick’s touch had already helped tonight, but I didn’t need or want any hiccups with my power for the Samhain festival next week.
“He’s a good male.” Patrick spoke in a way that made you trust his words. He didn’t speak in half-truths or riddles. He didn’t offer too many words to say something small. He was direct.
“He worries about me too much.” I touched my fingertips to the soil and felt the small energy building in my veins. I had to pull my magick back from pushing too much into the seeds, but I did give each sprout a little boost so they could grow just a teensy bit faster. This current batch was basil, and Drew was going to be thrilled he’d have his next delivery earlier than expected.
“You have a lot of people who care about you here and worry.” Patrick walked around the counter and approached me. “You deserve to be cared for, my busy little witchling.” I stared up at his eyes. Only the faintest blue was visible in the soft light around the shoppe. His lips pressed against mine quickly before he pulled away. “What can I help with?”
That small little kiss had me wanting to explore his mouth with my tongue and touch him all over. I shook my head slightly, which made Patrick smile. He knew what his lips did to me.
“If you want to fill up the watering can in the back, I just need to take some measurements.”
Patrick nodded at my request and made his way to the back.
