Coveted - Book 3 in the Gwen Sparks Series Read Online Free Page A

forward. Punch, block, punch, block. It was a never-ending battle. His soft chuckles taunted me, driving me forward and making my anger skyrocket. Finally I decided to take my own advice—play dirty or die. I directed all of the magic flowing through my body to both of my hands. They lit up like I was holding two balls of bright, blue light. The hesitation in Dorian’s steps was the confidence booster I needed. Flinging my hands in front of me, I cast my magic out and towards Dorian’s chest. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would sting like a son of a bitch.
    The magic smashed into his stomach, throwing him back a couple feet where he landed on his side. I was breathing so hard I had to concentrate on slowing the rapid intake of air. When Dorian didn’t move, didn’t pop up and make some sarcastic comment, fear replaced my exhaustion. I rushed towards him, falling on my knees to inspect his body. His chest still rose and fell with steady breath.
    “Dorian?” I shook his shoulder. Fisting his jacket, I turned him over so that I could see his face. His sunglasses had flown off and his eyelids were closed. I leaned down to listen to his heartbeat. The calming thump of his heart echoed in his chest. Leaning back up, I shifted my eyes to his face and then to where I’d hit him. With nervous fingers I lifted his shirt up to reveal his taut stomach. There wasn’t a mark, not even a scratch from where my magic had blasted him.
    “Dorian, wake up!” I tapped his cheek soft at first and then harder. His eyes flinched, a smile lifting his mouth up. Relief washed through me, and then anger. How dare he pretend to be knocked out. His little stunt had about given me a heart attack. I leaned back on my heels, ready to stand up and leave him lying in the field, when he reached out for my arm and I lost my balance. I fell on top of him, his arms encircling my waist and holding me prisoner.
    “Let go,” I warned.
    He snorted, that damned smile still holding strong. “I said no magic.”
    “And I said there are no rules when it comes to fighting. Now that we’re caught up on the conversation, let me go.” I struggled against his body, trying to get my hands underneath me to lift myself up, but Dorian’s hold was unyielding. I was in an awkward position, half on top of him and half off. My legs weren’t any good because if I tried to use them to push myself up, my face planted into Dorian’s chest. I kept my face turned away from him; otherwise we’d be nose to nose. I could only imagine what I looked like. Luckily there weren’t any other witnesses to my shame.
    “You can wiggle all you want,” Dorian said. “I’m rather enjoying it.” At that I stilled, my body going limp and melting against his. Now that I’d calmed down, I noticed the scent of his cologne—woodsy and clean. I wanted to inhale deep, take it into my lungs and store it in my memory, but that would have defeated the point I was trying to make. I was mad, reeling and frustrated beyond belief. But man, did he smell good, and the feel of his body just beneath mine threatened to penetrate my determination.
    His fingers flexed on the small of my back. Frustrations gone, I was hyperaware of those hands and the path they were beginning to follow. I held my breath as they slid across the hollow of my back. My shirt had come up a little bit with my earlier struggle, and the warmth of Dorian’s fingers on my bare skin was making me forget why I was mad in the first place.
    “Don’t you think we should talk about what happened in Massachusetts?” Dorian’s voice was low, smooth and raspy with his inner thoughts. Given what question he’d just asked, I could guess what he was thinking about.
    I released the breath I’d been holding, unsure how to respond. We’d come so close to sealing the deal and now it was the constant elephant in the room. Dorian wanted to discuss it while I wanted to ignore it. I wanted to flirt and train with Dorian, not categorize