13. Allan

Chapter thirteen

Allan

D addy Patrick had gone off to visit his friend again while he left me with strict instructions to finish the book I was reading on divination. It was dry as hell. Next to me lay a stack of more studying. The Runes of Mystery , Tarot Cards for Beginners , and Herbaceous Plants of Alberta , none of which sparked any joy within me.

I closed my eyes for a moment, waiting for the darkness behind my eyelids to stop the swirl of anxiety in my stomach.

I still couldn't wrap my head around any of this. I couldn't deny the existence of magic, and clearly, I could make it happen. I just didn't know how .

And that frustrated Patrick so bad, which made me feel like a complete failure.

After a week of getting rocks hurled at me and becoming angry daily, then having Patrick trick me into a ferocious rage, which sparked the magic, I still couldn't find the spot within me where the damn thing lived. It evaded me.

Patrick had the patience of a saint.

And damn, after a week of being in his presence, all I wanted to do was make him happy and proud, and for him to smile.

I saw it occasionally, but I wanted more. That toothy grin he made when something pleased him created dimples on each side of his cheek, and it warmed my chest and stiffened things below.

Not that I would have let him know I liked his smile.

Or his body.

Damn, his body. He might have been older than me, but his muscles didn't know that. He was rock solid, and so wonderfully furry. I wanted to touch him. Just the sight of his stretched shirts across his massive chest pulled me away from any focus on casting.

Patrick's introduction into my life hadn't been a great one. I still thought of Shawn and Dylan, what I had done, and the guilt always overwhelmed me, which also shut down any magic that may have been swirling about.

I was growing fond of Argus, who always kept close to me, but the damn velociraptor of a bird could just stay the hell away from me. Damn thing gave me the creeps.

It did fascinate me though when I watched how Kaos and Patrick got along. The bird was noisy, but that didn't seem to bother Patrick, and I had never seen a bird ask for belly rubs. Patrick spent an hour last night with the bird lying upside down in his lap, while he read and absentmindedly stroked the creature's feathers.

I kinda wished it had been me lying cuddled up with Daddy Patrick and getting those rubs.

So many fantasies had been born in the space of one week.

At first, it had been pure attraction—so damn good-looking—despite the fact he was way beyond the age I would have considered acceptable for dating.

I couldn't help stealing glances. His body was slammin', and the hair, which he kept short, drove me wild. Of course, there was also his propensity for walking around naked.

I mean, yeah, I get it, no body shame (hard to have any shame when you're rocking muscles like that!) and the whole no-barrier thing with the magic. But still, the distraction was in watching his cock bounce while he was trying to get me to cast some sigil, or looking at the giant, low-hanging nut sack while he went on about the properties of some bush he had in the backyard.

I hung my head over my book and ran the palm of my hand across my face.

This was pointless. I slammed the book shut, and the noise elicited a jump-start reaction from both the dog, and the damn bird.

"Sorry! Sorry." I put my hands up to hopefully quell any violent reaction—especially from Kaos.

I decided that study hour had reached a conclusion, and I needed to do something to clear my head. A walk down the beach was in order.

Slipping on a pair of flip-flops that Patrick had bought me, I walked out through the back door, Argus following obediently behind but deciding the edge of the deck was as far as he would go. I continued, crossing the lawn and the myriad of gardens Patrick tended that brought a riot of colour to my eyes.

The summer air hung heavy, oppressive, and cruel. The late season scent of phlox made an odor within the immediate vicinity of sickly-sweet honey, but the big showy blooms in pastel pinks and light blues were stunningly pretty against the tall spikes of a million tiny blossoms on the goldenrod.

Huh, maybe I was retaining some information after all.

The humidity had increased over the course of the morning, and if I didn't know any better, I would have sworn we were going to have a late day thunderstorm.

I could feel the encroaching energy, the anger embedded within the heat, and as I broached the shrub line that marked the edge of the backyard, passed down the sandy path between the vegetation, and broke through to the beach, I could see the building clouds, rolling, dark and threatening.

Yup.

We were going to be in for another good storm.

"There you are!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Pellets of water formed all around me, coalescing out of the air, as I swung around to face the direction of the voice.

Daddy Patrick stood there in tight khaki shorts, obviously not wearing underwear, and a loose-fitting, unbuttoned short-sleeved shirt that had an abstract flower pattern.

The cleft of his pec muscles prominently on display made me melt, but as he saw the imminent threat of being doused or pummeled with water, he took a few steps back.

I relaxed, not wanting to hurt him…again.

The water droplets fell to the sandy ground, disappearing as they were absorbed by the sun-drenched substrate.

"Nicely done. You managed to call off the magic before pelting me with it. I'd say that's progress."

"You have to stop scaring me like that."

"I didn't mean to."

"I know, but still. I don't want to hurt you."

"Aw, that's nice." He smiled and I melted. "I can look after myself." Patrick winked at me, and I swore my knees went weak. "Besides, after all the terrible things I've done to you this past week, I'm surprised. I'd have thought you'd be happy to return the favor."

"Oh, my gods, no."

"Oh!" Patrick gasped, his hand clutching the imaginary pearl necklace around his neck, seemingly mocking me.

"What?" I stared at him, eyes wide. "What did I do?"

"You used the right term."

"What?"

"Gods, not god. I'm so proud."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm trying, Patrick. I really am. I get that I could be a danger to others."

"More importantly, to yourself," he waved a finger at me.

"I'm less concerned with that, to be honest. My brain keeps bringing up images of Shawn and Dylan's dead bodies."

"I told you that wouldn't be a good idea."

"I know, but…well…I kinda needed to see it. Now I wish I hadn't, but then, if you hadn't taken me, showed proof to me, would I be here? I doubt it."

"I'm sorry I haven't been able to pull out your abilities yet. But you are getting better. Just, you know, slowly."

"I feel like I'm failing you. Like I'm lacking all the qualities needed to be a good witch like you." I turned away from Patrick, unable to look at him.

"Woah. That's not fair. You are progressing. Most fledglings get a whole year's worth of training before they must take their first exam."

"Really? A whole year of this? But you said I was only going to be here for a month."

"Let's walk. I have some things I need to say." Patrick's face took on a shadowy demeanor.

"Oh, my gods, I'm in shit, aren't I?"

"Stop putting this on you. I'm afraid the problem lies with me."

As we started to stroll down the beach, the clouds rumbled.

"Think we're going to get another storm," I said.

Patrick glanced into the distance, "I'd say you're right, but not for a couple more hours, so we have some time."

Daddy Patrick then did something he had never done before. He threw his arm around the back of my shoulder and pulled me in tight. The sides of our bodies pressed closely against each other as we sauntered down the beach. It was awkward, at first, but the close contact made dragonfly wings beat furiously against my ribcage. I wasn't going to pull away for anything.

"I must apologize to you. The friend I visited this morning is a colleague, and a witch like us, but he holds a lot of power in his position. He's a good guy to go to for advice. He made me see a few things from a different perspective. I haven't been completely honest with you, and I need to come clean about a few things. I'm hoping you'll understand."

"Ah, okay." My guts churned. I wasn't sure what Patrick was about to confess, but I felt certain I wasn't going to like any of it.

"I don't know where to start." He scrunched his mouth over to one side.

"From the beginning is usually best," I said.

Patrick chuckled, "I'm the one who's supposed to be giving sage advice. Not you."

"Hey, I'm not incapable."

"No, you certainly are not. Okay, how do I do this?" He stammered for a bit as we continued our stroll, his hand had slipped from my shoulder to my waist. His fingertips glided back and forth across my rib cage. "Allan, despite the fact that I'm supposed to be mentoring you, I have to tell you…"

He stopped walking, let me go and turned to face me.

"What? You can tell me. I think. You're making me really nervous."

"I'm sorry, that's not what I wanted." He stopped breathing for a moment, and closed his eyes, then blurted out, "I like you."

"Well, I mean, you can be a bit of an asshole at times, but I like you too."

"No, I mean… I like you, like you. I find you extremely attractive."

"Oh. Um, okay. Thanks, I guess. Me too."

"You too?"

"Well, if we're being honest." My stomach had tightened up. I was equal parts giddy and terrified. "You seem like a nice guy and all, but I don't know you that well yet. And you're practically naked all the time. I've seen everything, and you're… I mean…well…goddamn it, you're really fucking sexy."

"Godsdamn it."

I punched him in the arm, in his big, beefy bicep. "Fuck off, already." The muscle was solid, and Patrick didn't even flinch, although I didn't really put any energy into the punch.

Patrick chuckled. "Really? You really feel that way about this old guy?"

"Have you looked into a mirror? Jeez man, the number of times I've thought about feeling up that chest of yours…"

Patrick grabbed my hand and placed it directly in the center of those gorgeous mounds of muscle covered in fur.

"Be my guest. Besides, I had one glorious morning waking up with you cuddled up behind me and your fingers running through my chest hair. Not to mention your boner pressed into my backside. Won't lie. Kinda liked it. It's been a very long time since anyone has spent the night in my house, let alone in my bed."

I whimpered a little as he flexed his chest muscles.

"Go on." A mischievous grin grew on Patrick's face, and if I didn't know any better, I'd have sworn his eyes twinkled. He unbuttoned his shirt while my palm lay flat against his skin and my fingers made little circles in his fur.

With much more access now, I hitched a breath in and ran my hand over his entire chest. The dense coat covering him had been trimmed, making it prickly, but the coarseness to it made me hard instantly.

I grazed over his nipples, which had turned to tough little nubs, and then pulled up my other hand to run them both down the sides of his torso, toward the waistband of his pants.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked.

I nodded.

And there we stood, in the late August afternoon sun, thunder rolling across the sky from the distant storm approaching. My fingers continued to dance across Daddy Patrick's massive muscles as we leaned forward and met each other's lips.

His beard had the same roughness as his body hair, but his lips were soft, warm, and with a little tongue added in, very moist.

He tasted sweet, and faintly of coffee.

Patrick pulled me in until I was wrapped in his arms, surrounded by this bear of a man who had saved me from myself and was now trying to teach me how to enter the next chapter of my life.

I melted.

My knees wobbled.

I shivered in delight as his needy hands slid their way down to my butt cheeks. He gripped them and squeezed them, then lifted me up off the ground as we continued our deep and sensual kiss.

The sky darkened and more rumbles echoed across the sky.

I didn't want to pull away.

This fantasy, kissing Daddy Patrick, was finally coming true.

There was no way I would have ever made the first move toward him. And in all my wildest dreams I never imagined this would happen. I counted my blessings as Patrick's tongue licked across my teeth and over my tongue. Our hips ground against each other's, desperate to quench a thirsty need, the desire to feel and fulfill unsatiated fantasies that were now coming to life.

His excitement was very evident as his steel rod pushed into my thigh.

I pulled away, reluctantly, for a breath of air. Patrick acquiesced and did the same, but his eyes, half lidded, regarded me in a completely different light. I could see his desire and want for me.

For me!

Thunder roared above us.

Patrick put me down, and I almost lost my footing, so he continued to hold me.

Thunder cracked right above our heads.

We both glanced up.

Tendrils of clouds had snaked away from the main thunderstorm and wound themselves across the sky in a most unnatural pattern, converging directly above us where they swirled and circled.

"Oh, that's not good." Patrick stated. "I think we found another trigger for your magic." He smiled.

"That looks sinister," I said.

Patrick smiled, "We'll be fine, but would you like to take this back to the house?"

"I most definitely would."