kate storm 04 - witches dont back down by meredith allen conner
Authors: meredith allen conner
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bottle on the table and reached over, picking me up out of my chair and setting me down on his lap.
I'm not a small witch. The amount of strength needed to move my body, let alone by upper torso only, almost sent me into a full Victorian swoon.
Ash hadn’t even disturbed Al, who was now snoring in my lap.
Ash stroked one long finger down my cheek. "You worry too much, Kate."
He was right. I did worry. However, given the current state of happenings in my life, I wasn't sure too much was an accurate description.
For the moment though, I was sitting in Ash's lap. Surrounded by his massive chest and his equally amazing love. No worries, simply pure happiness.
I set aside everything on my brain and enjoyed the moment.
7. Un-Dead Best Friends.
Morgan and Drake arrived several minutes early. They were going to watch Al while Ash and I went on our date.
Al didn't need a babysitter. If the hitman had any idea I had asked Morgan to come over and watch him while Ash and I went out, he'd be furious.
And hurt.
It was an issue we skirted all the time. Al refused to acknowledge his canine form and I refused to do anything that might hurt him.
However, he was still a very small Chihuahua.
I worried if he was home alone.
Especially when Ash and I went on a date. Not only could something happen to him, but I also worried he would get lonely. Or depressed.
So Morgan, my aunt and Désirée Norma-Sue took turns watching Al.
It is not easy coming up with plans designed to trick a hitman.
Tonight Morgan had planned a bourbon tasting. She and Drake were bringing the bourbon. Al was leading the tasting.
"Hey, Chickie!" Morgan knocked once and opened the door. "Hey, Al!"
I met her in the hall.
The majority of Morgan's gorgeous red curls were gathered up in a high pony tail. Several perfect coils hung loose on either side of her face. The red emphasized her creamy white complexion and emerald green eyes. She wore a bright green wrap dress held together by one big white button on the left side of her waist with a low neckline and three quarter sleeves. She matched it with white knee high spiked boots. No jewelry. It was simple, stunning and I had to blink several times. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen Morgan in something other than leather.
She usually dressed like a really classy dominatrix. Tonight she looked like she had just stepped off the cover page of a 1970s fashion magazine.
Frankly, it didn't matter what Morgan wore. She was drop dead gorgeous. Period.
Even the movements of her body were graceful and sexy. Like love sonnets being read aloud in a rich Irish brogue. Morgan moved like poetry in motion, sensuous and rich and it made the breath catch in the back of your throat.
She held up two bottles of some sort of bourbon. "I went to Kentucky to get these." She tilted her head towards Drake walking close behind her. "Mr. Connoisseur here had to make a special trip to get his bourbon."
They'd brought four bottles of bourbon? I motioned them into the living room where Ash had moved the kitchen table. Al sat in the middle of the table.
My Chihuahua was going to be smashed by the time we got home.
"Trust me, my love, this will be worth the trip I made." Drake smiled at Morgan and winked at me. I caught a brief glimpse of fang.
Drake was the perfect match for Morgan. He stood several inches taller than her and his coloring was similar with the pale skin and green eyes. But where Morgan had sunset curls, Drake had hair so black I could see hints of blue on occasion. He moved with the masculine equivalent of Morgan's female grace.
Physically they complimented each other. Emotionally they perfected one another.
As perfect as Morgan is physically, emotionally she has scars. Some raw, some scabbed and hardened over. The majority of them can be laid straight at Morgause's feet.
Drake softened those rough spots. He filled in her holes. He treasured her and Morgan adored him.
Drake set his two bottles of
I'm not a small witch. The amount of strength needed to move my body, let alone by upper torso only, almost sent me into a full Victorian swoon.
Ash hadn’t even disturbed Al, who was now snoring in my lap.
Ash stroked one long finger down my cheek. "You worry too much, Kate."
He was right. I did worry. However, given the current state of happenings in my life, I wasn't sure too much was an accurate description.
For the moment though, I was sitting in Ash's lap. Surrounded by his massive chest and his equally amazing love. No worries, simply pure happiness.
I set aside everything on my brain and enjoyed the moment.
7. Un-Dead Best Friends.
Morgan and Drake arrived several minutes early. They were going to watch Al while Ash and I went on our date.
Al didn't need a babysitter. If the hitman had any idea I had asked Morgan to come over and watch him while Ash and I went out, he'd be furious.
And hurt.
It was an issue we skirted all the time. Al refused to acknowledge his canine form and I refused to do anything that might hurt him.
However, he was still a very small Chihuahua.
I worried if he was home alone.
Especially when Ash and I went on a date. Not only could something happen to him, but I also worried he would get lonely. Or depressed.
So Morgan, my aunt and Désirée Norma-Sue took turns watching Al.
It is not easy coming up with plans designed to trick a hitman.
Tonight Morgan had planned a bourbon tasting. She and Drake were bringing the bourbon. Al was leading the tasting.
"Hey, Chickie!" Morgan knocked once and opened the door. "Hey, Al!"
I met her in the hall.
The majority of Morgan's gorgeous red curls were gathered up in a high pony tail. Several perfect coils hung loose on either side of her face. The red emphasized her creamy white complexion and emerald green eyes. She wore a bright green wrap dress held together by one big white button on the left side of her waist with a low neckline and three quarter sleeves. She matched it with white knee high spiked boots. No jewelry. It was simple, stunning and I had to blink several times. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen Morgan in something other than leather.
She usually dressed like a really classy dominatrix. Tonight she looked like she had just stepped off the cover page of a 1970s fashion magazine.
Frankly, it didn't matter what Morgan wore. She was drop dead gorgeous. Period.
Even the movements of her body were graceful and sexy. Like love sonnets being read aloud in a rich Irish brogue. Morgan moved like poetry in motion, sensuous and rich and it made the breath catch in the back of your throat.
She held up two bottles of some sort of bourbon. "I went to Kentucky to get these." She tilted her head towards Drake walking close behind her. "Mr. Connoisseur here had to make a special trip to get his bourbon."
They'd brought four bottles of bourbon? I motioned them into the living room where Ash had moved the kitchen table. Al sat in the middle of the table.
My Chihuahua was going to be smashed by the time we got home.
"Trust me, my love, this will be worth the trip I made." Drake smiled at Morgan and winked at me. I caught a brief glimpse of fang.
Drake was the perfect match for Morgan. He stood several inches taller than her and his coloring was similar with the pale skin and green eyes. But where Morgan had sunset curls, Drake had hair so black I could see hints of blue on occasion. He moved with the masculine equivalent of Morgan's female grace.
Physically they complimented each other. Emotionally they perfected one another.
As perfect as Morgan is physically, emotionally she has scars. Some raw, some scabbed and hardened over. The majority of them can be laid straight at Morgause's feet.
Drake softened those rough spots. He filled in her holes. He treasured her and Morgan adored him.
Drake set his two bottles of
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