MakeMeWet Read Online Free

must have managed well enough because
she smiled back.
    “Tell me which way, love, and I’ll get you home.”
    “I can walk—”
    “Forget it.”
    The human form he took when coming ashore was always the
intended’s fantasy man, a vision straight out of her wettest dream—guaranteed
to make her weak-kneed and pliant. For Maille, a man big enough to carry her, a
strong take-charge type to look after her, was part of that fantasy.
    She pointed toward a cottage up the beach, near the rising
wall of cliffs.
    He marched between dunes and skirted saw grass. The scent of
trampled beach heather mingled with the breeze. Something in a circle of dunes
just the other side of a tide pool caught her attention and he had to scramble
to keep from falling when she twisted suddenly in his arms.
    Ronin felt telepathically, rather than by any scent or sign,
the presence of a mare. A stallion, atop dunes farther down the beach, stood
guard. And while Maille was too far off for human ears to catch the greeting,
Ronin was certain the quick tilt of Maille’s head in that direction meant the
stallion’s welcoming nicker hadn’t escaped Maille’s notice.
    The stallion’s attention on Maille sent Ronin hustling
through the loose sand. Like the wolves up on the cliffs, the stallion was a
shifter. Shifters should be expected, he supposed, with Shadowling so close.
They could take those seductive greetings elsewhere.
    The cottage sat on a rocky shelf in the shelter of the
cliff. Maille directed him toward the backyard, rather than up the wide porch
at the front. In the midst of a well-tended herb garden, a redwood structure
with a stained-glass dome ceiling sat in the center of tiled paths.
    Maille squirmed and he put her down.
    “This is the sauna,” she said matter-of-factly. “There are
probably fresh towels and robes just inside the door. There’s a lovely shower
room behind the sauna, just follow the path around the back.”
    A sauna? It had the feel of a church or temple.
    Probably towels and robes? She didn’t know?
    She reached for the wrought iron latch on the door, but her
hand stopped short. Her fingers curved over an emblem of a cresting wave carved
on the door.
    “Maille?”
    Her hand dropped quickly to the latch and the door popped
open. Her tour-guide voice was back. “Yes, sorry. Towels over there on the
bench. Robes on the hooks here by the door.”
    She had the bored air of someone bent on making the unusual
seem un-notable. As if it were ordinary to have black silk robes embroidered
with silver crescents or purple velvet robes embroidered with gold six-pointed
stars hanging in your sauna. As if everyone’s sauna had stacks of towels
arranged in the perfect order—red to violet—of chakra colors. Surely a
pentagram stained-glass ceiling was standard.
    Why fill a home with elements of magick when—if the hint of
rose staining her neck and cheekbones were any indication—the sacred objects
embarrassed her?
    It wasn’t his job to probe her beliefs. His assignment
involved probing meant to be pleasant. Not that you could tell that from her
eagerness to escape him. She’d started backing up as soon as he stepped inside
the sauna. She hovered on the path, half turned toward the house. His little
sandpiper was back. Passion had fled.
    “If there’s something you need that you can’t find, I’ll be inside.
The kitchen door is just there.” She pointed to an area obscured by a rose
trellis.
    He caught her wrist before she escaped and gave a gentle
tug. “Come on, love. I’m feeling a bit dizzy yet. After that bashing around out
there on the rocks, I’m sure I need watching. Can’t have me fainting in the
shower, can you?”
    “Well…” She wouldn’t look at him. As if that could change
course, undo what had already been set in motion.
    He trailed a finger along the sensitive skin where he’d
sealed magick with kisses.
    She looked up into his eyes then. Hers were startlingly
clear, as if she were somehow