Night Witch (Weatherstone College, #2)(13)

It was plain black and large enough to fall to mid-thigh. It smelled faintly like Logan, and I was soothed by the now familiar minty evergreen. His hoodies I slept in no longer held that scent, and I’d been secretly mourning the loss.

Before leaving the bathroom, I brushed my teeth with the spare toothbrush he’d left on the shelf. I also found a brush to run through my long hair—if I went to bed with it wet and tangled, it’d be a bitch to tame tomorrow.

When I’d delayed as long as I could, I exited the bathroom to find Logan sprawled on his bed. There were still no lights on, but the moon had moved out from behind a cloud, and its beams filtered through those amazing windows.

When I crossed to his bed, I noticed his hair was damp and he wore a pair of soft shorts, leaving the full expanse of his muscled chest on display. I’d been desperate to examine his tattoos for almost a year now, and in the low light, I noted a large white tiger, and what looked like a dragon wrapping around his shoulder and down his biceps.

He sat up, and I tried very hard to ignore all those flexing muscles. “You okay, sweetheart?”

Fucker.

“Stop it,” I said, unable to help my splutter of laughter. “He’s a friend.”

Logan’s expression grew darker. “On your side maybe.”

James had been my friend and boss for a long time, and I’d never seen any real indication that he wanted to be more, so I ignored that statement.

“Where am I sleeping?”

Logan patted the bed. “You’re with me, Precious. Where I can keep an eye on you.”

I blanched, even if almost every part of me wanted to dive into this sexy-as-fuck warlock. But I didn’t need him to have a front-row seat to my nightmares. Without my potion and pills, I was going to wake up screaming.

“Maybe it’ll be better if I sleep alone. I have no intention of fucking you tonight.” My tone was bitchier than needed when he’d been nothing short of amazing, but I was half-panicked at being this vulnerable with him. It was too much, and at the same time, not remotely enough.

Logan stood, his energy sweeping out to surround me. “You’re exhausted,” he repeated, and I expected a bite in his tone after my comment, but there was none. “This is not about fucking, Paisley. This is about you sleeping where the monsters can’t reach you. Let me do this for you tonight.”

My eyes burned. My soul fucking burned.

Trying not to let my tears spill, I decided I was too tired to fight him and stumbled forward to crawl onto the huge bed. Logan waited for me to slide under the thick comforter before he got in after me, on the side closest to the door, nudging me over.

“I sleep between you and danger,” he said as he settled under the covers.

There was a moment of tension where I wondered if I’d ever fall asleep with him beside me like this, but then he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his hard frame.

“Relax, Precious,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I’ve got you. I promise that I won’t let the monsters near you.”

The tears I’d been holding back surged again, but only one slipped free. I felt the brush of his fingertip against the moisture, the heat of his power wrapping around me. True to his word, I felt a sense of safety for the first time in weeks.

Seconds later, sleep dragged me under as if it had been waiting for me all along.





Chapter 6




Since the bloom of my power last year, I’d been plagued by dreams. Most of them were sexy. Some were downright terrifying. A lot were both.

The two sides of my world collided in ways that drew screams from my lungs even in the middle of sleep. This night with Logan, though, not a single dream marred my slumber.

I had no idea how long I even slept. I only roused when a phone buzzed on the side table.

Snuggling deeper into the delicious heat surrounding me, I realized I was wrapped around the spellcaster. My head rested against his chest, the low thud of his heartbeat soothing under my ear. His hard thigh was pressed between my legs, and I barely managed not to moan as his muscles nudged against my sensitive core.

My lack of underwear beneath his shirt was never more obvious than when I felt my slick heat soaking his thigh.

Not ready for reality to intrude, I kept my eyes closed, hoping for a few more seconds of peace—a few seconds before Logan returned to being the son of my family’s enemy and I became a witch with an affinity that would get me killed if anyone found out.

The bright light of day would destroy this perfect, peaceful bubble.

I wasn’t ready for that.

Last night, Logan had been open and caring toward me. It had cracked through my walls, and if we went back to hating each other today, it would destroy me.

He’d called me mate.

And told me that this was my house.

“Stop thinking so hard, Precious,” he murmured.

I opened my eyes, needing to see his expression, only for another sight to completely steal my attention. “What in the world?”

My heart slammed hard as I jerked into a sitting position and looked around the semidark room. Blinds covered the windows, but I could still see the mountain lion–sized cat sprawled across the end of his bed.

“Logan . . . is that a cougar?”

He pulled himself up to sit behind me, dragging me back against his body. “Misti likes you,” he said, in his husky, sleepy voice.