witches of cleopatra hill 04.5 - cleopatra hill christmas Page 7

  Maybe….

  “Are you jealous of the girls I dated before I met you?” he went on. I shook my head. No, I really couldn’t be, since none of them seemed to have mattered anything to him, and he hadn’t seen anyone else after he met me at the Jerome Halloween dance. “Well, then, I can’t really be too upset by a crush you had on someone before we even met. I feel bad for the guy — he’s in a tough situation, and he’s probably giving himself all kinds of shit for getting himself into it.”

  “Are you always this awesome?” I asked, leaning my head against his shoulder. It felt so good to be there, feeling the slight scratch of his wool sweater against my cheek. There was something special about it being just the two of us in that moment, no babies that needed to be changed or fed or comforted.

  “Most of the time,” Connor replied. His hand found mine and tightened around it. “Of course, you make it easy to be awesome.”

  Then he bent down so his lips could brush against my hair, and once again heat flickered inside me. Goddess, I wanted him. I needed him, needed to renew the connection between us.

  Being Connor, he seemed to sense my yearning immediately. Voice quiet, he said, “It sounds as if they’re still asleep.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  He was silent for a few seconds. Without speaking, he shifted so he could put his arms around me, could lift me from the couch. I gasped, but remembered enough of myself to snag the baby monitor’s receiver from the coffee table before Connor carried me out of the room and up the stairs. One of the steps creaked under our combined weight, and I winced, praying the sound wasn’t loud enough to penetrate to the nursery where the babies slept. But I didn’t hear any answering wails, nothing to indicate that the twins weren’t still completely passed out.

  I’d forgotten how strong Connor really was. The weight had started to come off, but I certainly wasn’t back to what I weighed when we first met. That didn’t seem to matter as he carried me into the bedroom and laid me down on the bed. A flick of his finger, and the fire in the hearth came alive, sending a warm orange light dancing on the walls. I dropped the baby monitor on the nightstand as he came and lay down next to me, pulling me close, his mouth finding mine.

  Oh, Goddess, the taste of him. We’d kissed over the past few weeks, but not like this, tongues caressing one another, mouths open, our bodies pressed together as if trying to meld into one. Heat was surging through me, veins on fire, as Connor’s hand moved over my hip and then to my belt buckle. I felt it come loose after he tugged on it, and then his fingers were on the button of my jeans.

  “Are you sure?” he whispered. “Is this too soon?”

  “It’s fine,” I whispered back. “I’m ready. Eleanor’s been helping me along, you know?”

  He nodded and undid the button, then went on to pull down the zipper. In the next second, his fingers were moving under my panties, slipping into me. I’d been worried that my body wouldn’t respond the same way it used to, but in that instant I realized all the warnings I’d read about needing lube for postpartum sex obviously didn’t apply to me.

  I moaned, but softly, not wanting to make any noise loud enough to carry down the hall to where the twins might hear. And then Connor was tugging my pants down all the way, my underwear going along for the ride, even as he pushed up my sweater so he could trail kisses across my stomach. I noticed he was avoiding my breasts, so I whispered, “It’s okay. They’re — I mean, you can kiss them. It’s not like feeding the babies.”

  He let out a soft sigh. “Thank God. I didn’t want to do anything that might — ”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “Please.”

  His mouth closed on me, but gently, tongue soft on my flesh even as he stroked me with his fingers. And there it was, that delicious pressure and heat building within me, the sensation I’d feared would never be the same again.

  I had to bury my face in his shoulder as I came so my cries would be muffled. He held me as I shuddered in his arms, riding the last of the waves until they were done rippling along every nerve ending.

  We stayed that way for a moment, but then I realized that, as good as it had been, I needed more. I needed him.

  My fingers found his belt and undid it hastily. Then I pushed his jeans down, and his boxer-briefs, my hand going to feel the rock-hardness of his erection. He groaned, but softly as well, his cock seeming to grow even more as I stroked it. A minute or so passed, and then he murmured, “Angela — ”

  I knew I was going to make him come if I kept at it. And while that would have been all right if I’d been at all worried about being with him completely, right then I knew I needed more.

  “Now, Connor,” I whispered.

  He rolled over and positioned himself on top of me. His hair had escaped the rubber band that held it back, and sooty black strands fell in front of his eyes. Even so, they weren’t enough to obscure his features, to hide the face of the man who had become everything in the world to me.

  And then he was slipping inside, and I had to let out a relieved breath, because even though I’d been wanting him, wanting this, I didn’t know for sure how well it was all going to work when the time came. But we fit together as perfectly as ever, and although I felt a slight twinge from the mostly healed scar in my lower abdomen, it wasn’t enough to detract from the exquisite sensation of our bodies joining once again, moving together, sealing and strengthening our bond.

  This time the climax was slower, longer, pulsing through me in waves of delicious warmth. Connor came a few seconds later, and I whispered the words of the contraception charm in my mind.

  Blessed Brigit, now is not the time. Bestow your blessings elsewhere.

  True, it hadn’t worked completely in the past. Now, though, I seemed to feel the universe letting me know that the charm would do its job this time. Our miraculous babies had been born, and there wouldn’t be any more until Connor and I made the conscious decision to have them.

  We stayed that way for a long moment, still locked together, neither one of us wanting to break the contact. At last, though, I said, “I love you, Connor, but you’re squishing me.”

  He chuckled and rolled over to one side so I could get up out of bed and head into the bathroom to get cleaned up. All right, I could feel a tiny bit of soreness, but that was all right. The pleasure I’d experienced in exchange was more than adequate compensation.

  I came back into the bedroom, now wearing my robe, which had been hanging from the hook on the back of the bathroom door. Connor had already slipped back into his jeans, although I noticed he’d replaced the sweater with one of his faded old Northern Pines University sweatshirts.

  From the baby monitor came a gurgling little sigh. “Want me to check on them?” he asked.

  “I’ll come with you. I just need to grab my underwear.”

  I retrieved my panties from where they’d been tossed onto the rug and slipped into them. Still barefoot, I padded down the hall to the nursery, Connor right behind me. But when we peeked inside, we could see that the twins still slept, that the funny gurgling sound we’d heard must have been from one of the babies shifting slightly in their sleep. The little lamp we’d left on against the coming wintry twilight cast a soft glow over the room.

  “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” I breathed, gazing down at our children as they slept.

  Connor stepped closer to me, pushing my hair out of the way. He placed a gentle kiss on the back of my neck, lips warm and welcome. Then he shifted his position slightly so he could look down into my face. A quick glance over at the twins, and again his focus returned to me, as if I was the only thing in his world right then.

  Smiling, he said, “Yes, I think I have seen something that beautiful.” His arms went around me, holding me close.

  I breathed in his scent, his warmth. We’d just begun this journey together, and I still couldn’t know all that the future could hold. Seeing what might come to pass wasn’t my talent, after all. Right then, though, it was enough to be
with Connor, to know our love was a shining thing, perfect and strong.

  Yes, we were parents. But, even more so, we were still lovers…and always would be.

  The End

  * * *

  The Witches of Cleopatra Hill series will continue with Impractical Magic, due out in the spring of 2016. Sign up here to be notified of that release and all of Christine Pope’s new titles!

  IF YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK…

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  ALSO BY CHRISTINE POPE

  THE WITCHES OF CLEOPATRA HILL

  (Paranormal Romance)

  Darkangel

  Darknight

  Darkmoon

  Sympathetic Magic

  Protector

  Spellbound

  A Cleopatra Hill Christmas

  * * *

  THE DJINN WARS

  (Paranormal Romance)

  Chosen

  Taken

  Fallen

  * * *

  THE SEDONA FILES

  (Paranormal Romance)

  Bad Vibrations

  Desert Hearts

  Angel Fire

  Star Crossed

  The first three books of this series are also available in an omnibus edition at a special low price!

  * * *

  TALES OF THE LATTER KINGDOMS

  (Fantasy Romance)

  All Fall Down

  Dragon Rose

  Binding Spell

  Ashes of Roses

  One Thousand Nights

  Threads of Gold

  * * *

  THE GAIAN CONSORTIUM SERIES

  (Science Fiction Romance)

  Breath of Life

  Blood Will Tell

  The Gaia Gambit

  The Mandala Maneuver

  The Titan Trap

  The Zhore Deception

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Christine Pope has been writing stories ever since she commandeered her family’s Smith-Corona typewriter back in the sixth grade. Her work includes paranormal romance, and fantasy romance, and science fiction/space opera romance. She fell in love with Sedona, Arizona, while researching the Sedona Files and now makes her home there, surrounded by the red rocks. No alien sightings, though...not yet, anyway!

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  Christine Pope on the Web:

  @ChristineJPope

  ChristinePopeAuthor

  www.christinepope.com

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  The Witches of Cleopatra Hill

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  If You Enjoyed This Book…

  Also by Christine Pope

  About the Author