Free Power (Soul Savers) by Kristie Cook

hard, beautiful thrusts. I covered my mouth to muffle the scream of
pleasure from the deep penetration. My back arched on its own, and his mouth
latched onto my breast, his tongue flicking over my nipple and then caressing
it as he sucked. I closed my eyes, losing myself in the bliss, and met his
rhythm with my hips. But right when I was about to explode again, he growled.
    We both froze. My eyelids flew open. His face twisted in a
mix of heated passion and … agony? Then I saw what I hadn’t seen in so
long—a flicker of flames in his eyes. What
the hell? Before I could even finish that thought, the spark was gone.
    He closed his eyes and exhaled the breath he’d been holding.
He still throbbed inside me. I flipped us over, wrapped my hands over his
forearms and pushed them against the bed, holding him in place as I rode him again,
looking into his eyes the whole time, mind-sharing everything I felt right now
with him. His eyes filled with love. And intense desire. And then rolled back.
    “Oh, fuck , Lex,”
he groaned as he came inside me.
    We silently lay in each other’s arms afterwards, not
mentioning what might have happened. I told myself nothing had happened. It was the heat of the moment. He loves me . I felt his love flowing
from his warm, strong embrace now. At least, I thought I did. Once he drifted
off to sleep, it really came pouring out of him. And that bothered me. Why
would he be inhibited while we made love? Afterwards, when it was only him and
me, basking in the beautiful moment we’d just shared?
    Something was changing between us. Hadn’t we already been
through enough?

 
    ***

 
    Tristan was right about Heather. She knocked on our door
bright and early the next morning, which wasn’t a bad thing because it
distracted Dorian from the fact we’d broken our bed. Again. We’d also left an
indentation in the drywall from my head and torso, and Owen wasn’t here to fix
it all for us, forcing me to make an embarrassing request of Blossom.
    “So where did these come from?” I asked Tristan as I picked
up the stilettos to put them away before going out to greet Heather. I
certainly never owned shoes with these kinds of heels. “Did you pick up a new
hobby of women’s shoe shopping while I was gone?”
    He shrugged casually, but his face remained smooth. “I guess
you could say I’ve developed a new fetish.”
    I stared at him for a long moment, not knowing what to think
or say, but mostly fighting hoots of laughter at the thought of big, powerful
Tristan— Mr. Beautiful —browsing
the women’s shoe section. But if this was really his new thing, I didn’t want
to laugh in his face. He could develop worse fetishes.
    “Um … well, okay …” I stammered.
    Then he was the one to burst into laughter. “Joke, ma lykita .” He pulled me into his arms
and whispered against my ear, “Just like any part of you, I’d rather see your
feet naked.”
    I sagged against him with a bit of relief. I couldn’t help
the thought of there being something wrong with the “ultimate warrior” having a
thing for women’s shoes.
    “So where did they come from?” I asked, the shoes still
dangling from my fingers.
    “Blossom.”
    The sense of relief disappeared faster than a warlock could
flash. What the heck were Blossom’s sexy
shoes doing in my bedroom?! I stiffened in Tristan’s arms.
    “She said she accidentally bought the wrong size, and she
thought you might like them,” he explained.
    “Seriously?” I asked with a forced chuckle, trying to cover
up my idiotic reaction. What was up with all the unwarranted jealousy? Sure,
Tristan had been acting strange lately, but not in a way that made me suspect
his faithfulness to me. But something had apparently crawled under my skin and gnawed
on my nerves. Perhaps the depleted Amadis power made me so cynical. “She
thought I’d like these ? To wear around town or something?”
    Blossom knew me better than that—flip-flops or combat
boots were the