Fading Magic (Book 5 of the Ink Series)

Tools

I stand outside my house watching the storm roll in. Slade is next to me. He's leaving.

And I know it's for a couple of weeks but a part of me is being ripped from my soul and it hurts really bad.

"What a way to leave," he says trying to make light of the moment. He doesn't want me to cry.

I agree studying the clouds as they light up one after another.

"It's sort of magical," I say. The slow rumble builds and more clouds light up.

"I think there is a little bit of magic in everything." He settles onto the porch swing abandoning his bag of gifts I bought for him to remind him what he is missing in Georgia. It's the least I can do.

"Just once I wish we could use it to do something good," I say with a sigh.

"We will," Slade promises. "Everything takes time."

I look away, holding back the tears ready to come out.

"Hope," Slade says. He knows I'm trying not to cry. I make one of those god awful noises burying my head into his chest.

I am trying to be strong and let him leave but I don't want him to go. And I am too stubborn to tell him.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

I nod, wiping at my eyes with the back of my arm. "Just fine."

He rubs my back and lets me ugly cry right there on the porch. I want to scream and plead with him to think about us and forget about his sister. But a selfish person would do that, and I can't be selfish.

I know it's not going to do me any good to voice my sadness. So I force myself to smile and enjoy his kiss. "Call me as soon as you're home."

Slade nods, our foreheads press against each other and he stares me down. "We both agree this is what we want to do right?"

I nod, pushing my mouth against his to avoid dealing with it. I kiss him hard, enjoying the feel of his lip ring, the way his tongue moves with mine, the faint taste of mint gum on his breath.

I hate the thought I won't be able to do this whenever I want for weeks. So I take my time, pulling him close and wrapping myself up in his arms, his taste, his everything.

We break apart. And Slade stands up. "I can't leave like this."

I raise an eyebrow. "What?"

He pulls me up and then down the stairs.

"What are you doing?" I follow him to my backyard and then to the garage. He turns the knob and pulls me inside.

"What are you doing?"

He tears his shirt over his head. And I know the answer.

He walks over to me and yanks me by the shorts to him. Our bodies crash into each other. I smile up at him.

"I need to make love to you one more time before I leave," he says, his mouth moving to mine.

I nod, letting him lead me to my dad's old work bench, he backs me up pressing me against it.

His hands slip down my shorts and he slides them down. I go along with it shaking my shorts free from my feet. He brings down my underwear, his hands traveling back up to my waist. Another kiss and his hands are on my ass, his fingers dig in and he lifts me onto the work bench.

He undoes his pants, his belt buckles banging against the leg of the work bench. I pull him close, and he presses his hips against me. A million sparks ignite outside and in my chest at the feel of him against me. It never gets old, I slip my fingers through his dark hair, enjoying the moment before it's gone and I am miserable.

I locate the waistband of his boxer briefs and tug them down. He kisses my neck and I run my hands down the muscles of his back stopping at his perfect ass. He's every bit my idea of what the perfect guy is.

He helps me out of my shirt, and I take my hands away long enough to get my shirt off before I wrap them around him.

One hand drifts down until I find what I am looking for and I stroke him, each kiss he delivers gets a little more intense every movement my hand makes.

He kisses down my chest, lips and tongue coaxing moans from my mouth. My nipples harden and he sucks sending tremors down south.

I wrap my arms around him, enjoying another intense kiss. Lighting crashes outside the garage, and we attack each other trying to get every last bit of pleasure and comfort from each other while we can.

He pulls me to the edge of the table. I can't believe this will be our last time for a few weeks. I know it's going to be so hard to not be with him.

He grips my thighs and rubs against me up and down over and over again. I am so ready for him. But he continues to kiss my neck and tease me not giving me what my body needs.

"Slade," I groan trying to move closer so he knows I need him inside of me.

"Shh," he says shushing me. Another crash of lighting. His hand runs up my neck and he studies me watching my every movement. He enjoys watching me squirm for him.

"No more teasing me." I kiss his neck. "I can't take it anymore." I wrap my legs around him. He takes me by the chin kissing me and gives me what I want.

He moves at a slow pace. He works in and out of me, taking his time, building me up into a glorious state of bliss.

I stroke his face enjoying our slow pace, enjoying everything. And when I kiss his neck his hips start moving faster. I pull him to me making him go deeper. Something falls on the floor and neither one of us care.

Slade slams into me. "I fucking love you."

***

He's gone and I feel more alone than ever before. I sit in the tub in my bedroom soaking and fighting the tears. I sigh lying back in the water and touch my tattoo.

I swipe two fingers over it and smile. It's not a heart anymore. It says I miss you. That makes me feel a little better.

I close my eyes, taking in the silence, listening to the soft hum, the smell of lavender candles in the air. I know in order for me to survive two weeks without Slade I have to occupy my mind.

And I know just what I needto do.

I need to dance.